HARDAWAY | trilogy

V3 - Chapter Fourteen.

𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎 "𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐓" 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐒

               The Roku smart flat-television sitting on top of the espresso colored dresser had my undivided attention, watching the well-fitted gentleman with skin the color of cinnamon and freshly tapered waves; low-trimmed beard and a thin, connecting mustache in a blue, wool-blend suit, shake hands with another man while cameras flashed on them. That man being apart of my bloodline; my mother's half-brother, Dwight Washington, or to my brother's and me, Uncle Gunplay or GP.

No one knows about him having family outside of the family that's on television right beside him looking like the perfect political family — A wife with pecan brown skin, standing to his left in a ivory colored skirt suit and two young children in front of them; two boys that almond brown skin, seventeen and thirteen. All wearing their fraudulent smiles; perfect for the cameras.

But two people were missing, which was to be expected.

My mother and her half-brother grew up close. They were all they had. Identical ways of surviving in the streets, but different paths in life. When my mother turned to the becoming the biggest Queen-pin in the U.S., Uncle GP went off to graduating the top of his class at Columbia University as well as Harvard Law. Polishing himself to be the perfect Politician; but like every Politician comes secrets, untold truths.

"Since when Gunplay get into Politics?" Mercedes asked. She, being the only to know about Dwight being apart of our family since anyone has no clue.

"He been in politics for years, Cedes."

"Well, I don't follow politics." She muted the television, "Just find it strange that the Governor gets shot two weeks ago and out of nowhere Gunplay is taking his position." She squinted at me skeptically.

"Why you lookin' at me like dat?"

She shrugged, crossing her arms. "Just find it funny. . ."

"Don't start wit yo theories. He in office cause it's where he deserve to be." I say just as my phone vibrated. I took it out and read over the text from Camila. "I gotta bounce. I'll have that brand new Mercedes GLE picked up in the mornin'. You know you can still keep."

"Thanks, but no," She stood from the mattress while grabbing the key-fob to the Mercedes and pressing it onto my chest. "I'll walk you out."

I grab ahold to the key-fob, following her out of her room. Approaching the front entrance, the door opens to Giovanni dressed in a oversized, long sleeve graphic shirt and cotton shorts; wearing Birkenstock Arizona sandals. Her keys jiggled in her hand as she laid eyes on her and holding the door open.

"Oh. . . hey."

"Waddup, Gio. I ain't seen you in a minute."

"Giovanni," she corrected. "And not speaking to you has been intentional."

I raised my brow in question, "oh really? You got sum'n you need to get off yo chest?"

Before she could respond, two people staggered in; a heightened white boy with an almond brown arm hanging over his shoulder to hold the person. When brushing her hair from in front of her face, I realize that person was Courtnee, who I haven't seen in years. I made it my priority to steer clear of her.