HARDAWAY | trilogy

V2 - Chapter Twenty Four.

𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐙 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐒

"This is fucking pointless; why are here?"

Annoyed, My twenty-three year old sister Valentina trudged in the grand modern-style living room. She inherited our mother's round face and big, chocolate doe orbs shadowed by neatly threaded eyebrows. Her skin tone was warm, golden tan and solid black hair that recently chopped into a bob. She had a yellow, spaghetti-strap dress and silver, studded sandals. Carrying a wine glass containing red liquid she sat on the big couch beside Camila.

"Ion' know as much as you," my twenty-five year old brother Brayden responded, sitting on the arm of the couch. He had almond brown skin and temple fade, sponge twists. A trimmed goatee and dark brown eyes shadowed by thick eyebrows. Dark blue shirt with rolled sleeves, distressed dark jeans, and Dolce and Gabbana Sorrento Graffiti kicks.

"Then why are we here?" She asked once more, "I have fucking shit to do. If I came all the way to here on a dry-ass mission because of y'all Dad I swear God—"

"Val, do us all a favor; shut the fuck up." Brayden calmly voiced; exasperation written all over his face.

Val whipped her head in his direction, "no; you shut the fuck up."

"You the only one complaining around here. You shut the fuck up."

"You shut the fuck up," She retorted, pointing her acrylic nail at him.

"You shut the fuck up."

"No, you—"

"How bout both of y'all shut up?" Chiming in vexation I looked at them as Val waved him off dismissively, "Pop on his way. He gon' let us know."

"I-Is he dying?" Camila quizzed as she seated beside me.

Peering back to her fear written over expression. "He ain't dyin' Cam."

"And if he was; it would just be his karma." Val mumbled and alerted question on Camila's face. She raised the glass to her lips, but Brayden snatched it from her hand before she could and footed towards the kitchen, "Hey!"

"You had enough wine Val. You already drunk."

"Can you blame me? I'm finna see your drug—"

"Shut up Val," I intervened with gritted teeth.

One thing Val tended to do when she drank to much is talk, too-fucking-much.

"You shut up. Camila is at the age of knowing by this time. She Daddy perfect little angel," She twirled Camila hair around her finger, "Until you graduate. He just go throw you to somebody college and treat you like shit."

"He loves me and he would never do that." Camila defended him as Brayden joined us once more.

"He loves me and would never—" She partially mocked Camila, but she guffawed. "So innocent and so, so, fucking retarded. Rico gone do whatever he want with you. Throw you away in dumpsters, wrapped in plastic and live another day with a smile. You have no idea who yo Daddy really is. Go to Lyrewood and ask everybody. They will damn sure tell you. Oops, I forgot, they will the next mufuckas in the dumpster."