What's Really Hood?

What's Good For Me

Hey, my loves! I'm trying, so don't be mad at me! lol. But, All previous chapters have been edited and changed a little bit, and chapter 6 in a new chapter, along with this one. The only major change is that Ni'Andra now has a daughter. Other than that, there have just been editing changed. My question for my babies is, should I go ahead and post the next chapter also since I've been MIA?

I couldn't even lie. I was ecstatic that Mitch hadn't been home when we showed up. At the same time, I knew my brother; he had a temper, and he'd certainly go back to handle the situation. It was obvious he was pissed because his hands were tightened on the steering wheel, and he kept clenching his jaw.

"So where you been staying?" he asked, and I ignored his question, continuing to stare out the window. "I know you hear me."

I let out a deep breath, turning my attention to him. "I've been staying with a friend," I replied unenthusiastically.

"Do I know this friend, and does this friend have a dick in between his legs?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes in annoyance. He always did this kind of thing.

"Mozart, the last time I checked, I was grown as fuck," I said, huffing and folding my arms across my chest. I shot daggers at him with my eyes while he kept his on the road. I only blinked for a half a second, and the next thing I knew, his open palm had found my chin, and my mouth fell open in utter shock.

"Watch yo' mouth. Who is this nigga?" he asked, not at all concerned with the fact that he'd slap the piss out of me. My mouth was stinging, and I wanted to slap him back, but he'd pull this car over and take off his belt. Having an older brother was a pain in the ass.

"I told you; he's a friend," I reiterated.

"Well, I need to meet 'em," he said, glancing at me.

"Bro, it's not even that serious," I said, shaking my head.

"If it ain't that serious, it ain't a problem."

That was why I hated and loved my brother. I loved that he cared so much, but I hated that he never knew when to leave well enough alone.

"Man, I swear—"

"Man, you swear what, Ni'Andra? Say somethin' else to get yo' ass slapped. This ain't up for discussion, debate, none of that. Call that nigga up right now," he demanded, and my mouth quickly fell open before I clamped it back shut.

"He's at work."

"Where's he working at?"

"He owns a line of hotels," I answered, and my brother nodded approvingly, almost making me smile. "They're called Magnum Living. He also has a little soul food spot over in his hood and a clothing store that he's about to start expanding," I explained, and my brother smirked.

"I think I know him," he said, and I looked at him curiously.

"How?"

"Well, I don't know him, but I know of him. He's deep in the streets too," he told me.

"That can't be right. He's always either home or at work," I explained, not believing what Moses was telling me—not about my Zorian. He had to be confused.

"He don't get his hands dirty, but he has a tight lil' operation going for himself. I ain't mad at the nigga," he said, rubbing his chin.

"What's his lil' operation," I asked with finger quotes, staring hard at my brother. I needed to be for sure that we were talking about the same person. I didn't need my daughter around someone who was deep in the streets.