End of the Road • D. Swing

Chapter 13 | Rude Brother

DeVanté

I was checked out of the hospital three days ago. I've been staying at my parents' house, because I'm still shooked from my house being invaded.

Them niggas lowkey got me scared for my life. Ain't no telling who they was or if or when they'll be back for me. All I know is, I can't stay with my parents for long. I'm a grown man, DeVanté Swing at that. What I look like staying with my parents because I'm scared to go back to my house? That's a bitch move and one thing I'm not, is a bitch.

"Donald, can you take the trash out for me please?" Mama yelled from her and my dad's room.

I sighed and lazily got up then put the trash in the trash ben in front of the yard. I was going to sit on the porch for a little while, just to get some fresh air. Dalvin pulled up though, so I decided to go back into the house.

"Aye, DeVan-"

"Goddamn, can I get in the house first?"

"Man," he smacked his lips. "Okay."

I stepped into our parent's house and went into the kitchen to find me something to eat. I didn't find anything good I wanted.

"Rude ass bi-," I heard him mumble before I cut him off.

"Shut the fuck up."

He didn't say nothing, I knew he was going to though. Dalvin can never stay quiet for long.

"Where is my Mama?"

"In her room," I said before sitting down on the couch.

"Thank you," he said sarcastically and walked upstairs to where Mama was.

Dalvin

I looked back at DeVanté, who was watching TV, and mugged him. I walked into my parents' room and closed the door. "What's his problem?"

Mama shook her head as she folded clothes, "That boy always like that. Just rude, for no reason."

"I know, but it's worse now." I plopped down on her bed.

"Boy, get up. You're in the way."

I smacked my lips and sat in the computer chair instead.

"But about your brother," she started putting the clothes in drawers, "I'm pretty sure his house being invaded got him like that. He's probably not taking his medicine either."

I nodded, agreeing with her. "Well, I came to get my stuff I told you to wash," I said.

Yeah, I'm twenty-one years old and I still have my Mama do my laundry. So what?

"It's over there," she pointed to a clothes basket in the corner of the room.

I picked up the basket. "Thank you, Ma," I said before kissing her cheek.

"Mhm. That'll be the last time I do your laundry, unless you start paying me,"

I chuckled, "I love you."