Page 2 of Ony If It's You
“Aight, aight, I know.” I nodded. “I know you got me.”
“Always.” He smiled and dapped me up before pulling me into a hug. “Where you headed?”
“Pops’. He said Tandy cooked and he wanted to run something by me.”
“I see.” He eyed me skeptically. “I won’t hold you, but nephew, if he’s trying to make you fight someone? Don’t accept it without me being there. Jerry only—just don’t agree to it without me, okay?”
“I got you, Unc,” I said before dapping him up one more time then heading out to my car.
Tossing my duffle into passenger seat, I started my car and pulled away going in the direction of my pops’ crib in Crescent Manor. Over the last few years that I’d been fighting he’d made some decent money, but for whatever reason he’d never moved. His reasoning was he didn’t want to ever forget where he came from. I thought it was some bullshit, but I knew it was a shot at my uncle because when Pres got some bread, he’d moved to Crescent Pointe.
I had too though. There wasn’t shit in the hood for me other than trouble. Dominique was always into some shit and because he was my nigga, I was always there too. I couldn’t afford that when I’d started to move up the importance scale. He didn’t take it to heart though because he fully supported my career. He also knew that if he needed me or if he was ever in trouble, I would be there, ten toes down.
TKO was in the middle of the two neighborhoods, so it didn’t take me long to get to my pops’ crib. Throwing my car in park, I killed the engine and climbed out. The front door was wide open which wasn’t a surprise considering that Tandy was probablyselling plates since she was cooking, so I pulled the storm door open and entered.
There were niggas at the dining room table playing cards when I entered. I tossed them a head nod and went into the kitchen where I found my father surrounded by his women minus Tandy who was standing by the stove.
“My favorite son!” my father bellowed and grinned. He was clearly drunk.
I’d be more surprised if he wasn’t.
“I’m youronlyson.” I laughed and dapped him up. “What’s good, ladies?”
Both Jessica and Rhonda were on each side of him cleaning his nails, while Ms. Phyllis was seated on a stool giving him a pedicure. Since I could remember the four of these women had stayed with us and helped take care of me.
Ms. Phyllis was the oldest of the four of them, and the one that reminded me most of a mother, so I treated her with more respect. The other three were straight, bops for sure, but straight. I’d hit all three of them before too, so treating them like anything more than my pops’ women was a no go.
My mother had died while giving birth to me, so I’d never met her. My pops never talked about her and he didn’t have any pictures of her either. All he ever offered me was that she was his bottom bitch but died on him.
Coldblooded.
“You hungry, JV?” Tandy asked.
“Yeah.” I briefly looked her way. “Fix my shit to go though.”
“I got you.” She nodded and took a pull from her cigarette.
I couldn’t help the disgust displayed on my face. I hated a female that smoked anything. It was unladylike and unattractive as hell. I almost told her not to worry about making me food, but she’d fried fish and that shit smelled good as hell.
“Where is Zoey and Kecia?” my pops asked, referring to the two women that I dealt with.
Because of what I saw growing up I followed down the same path as my father when it came to women. The only difference was I had no desire to be with either of them exclusively, together or separate.
Since I could remember, my father had instilled in me that women were a distraction because they were too emotional. We needed them because they were valuable assets, just not valuable enough to deter me from being a successful boxer. I couldn’t afford to be in the ring and worried about my woman having an attitude and shit. My mind needed to be on the fight and the bread that I was collecting after.
“Probably at the crib.”
“And you need to take a plate from my house? What are they at home doing?”
“I don’t know because I’m not up their asses all day. I was training before coming here.”
He thought because they were women they were supposed to cook, clean, and be at my beck and call all day. For the most part, they were, but I didn’t clock their moves when they weren’t. All four of his women were running around all day doingsomethingthat was beneficial for him that nine times out of ten he could do on his own, but I didn’t care for that. I just wanted mine to be available when I needed them.
“Just make sure that your home is in order.”
“My crib is good, Pops. Why you needed me to come over here?”
“My partner down in Atlanta reached to me.”
