Page 187 of Own It

“Other than losing Zaire? I’m lonely as fuck. But I don’t crave to be in a relationship, especially not right now. I crave brotherhood. I see niggas all the time enjoying that shit, and I had to ask myself why I’m sitting there wishing I had it when I had three brothers all my fucking life. It took me to lose one, which I hate with everything in me, to utilize that shit. Don’t mean to sound like a broken record, Rah, but like I said, I’m exhausted of this one-sided ass beef.”

I pondered on his words for a minute, thinking of how I wanted to speak my piece to him. While I appreciated this shit, it would take more than one remorseful monologue to erase decades of betrayal and jealousy from this nigga.

Additionally, Ayan turned into a terrible fucking person the older we got, and not just toward me. He began to exhibit traits of our father, and now that I knew the muthafucka was capable of murdering his own son, I didn’t want anybody like Nate Godfrey close to me.

“I’m gon’ be honest with you, nigga. I can’t be sure if we’ll ever be like whatever brothers you been witnessing, because too much shit has transpired, but if you keep this mindset, you never know. At the end of the day, I don’ murdered niggas for less, so that tells me I got some love and respect for you despite how you’ve moved. But if you truly are done with that bullshit you been on . . .” I shrugged. “Stranger shit than two brothers making up has happened. Same time, if this is some ploy Nate don’ sent you to put in place, I won’t hesitate to make you disappear.”

Ayan asked, “Why would Nate send me to do this?” He frowned, and we weren’t cool or close enough for me to reveal the shit I’d found out about our father, so I remained silent. “You know he prefer for us to be at odds. He never liked when we banded together.”

This was true, and part of our divide began when Ayan had become so fearful of our father that he started to work against Zaire, Josias, and me to be sure he didn’t get punished or beaten anymore. That ranged from snitching on us or even making up lies to cover his own ass. Even now, Ayan was a kiss ass and my dad’s favorite puppet.

“Real shit.”

“I took our relationship—not just ours but mine and Josias’ as well—for granted, thinking we had years to make up. Thinking I could correct all my shit once Nate was dead and gone, not looking over my shoulder or watching me closely. I know I’m his favorite because I’m on his side and against y’all. But now that Zaire is gone, I think God is telling me life is too short, and you never know when it’s a muthafucka’s last day,” Ayan explained, eyes spilling with distress and torment. “I don’t wanna be on that nigga’s side. I don’t belong over there.”

I knew he cared about Zaire, and with the way he was crying like a widow at the funeral, I figured it’d affected him. But seeing and hearing it right now was a pleasant confirmation. I think it didn’t hit his ass how much he loved Zaire until he was gone, sadly.

“I hope this turn of a new leaf includes how you treat LaMia,” I said, watching Ayan glance off for whatever reason as if he was contemplating. “I know you don’t love her and you never did, but she birthed ya kids, some shit you have confirmation of, though you ain’t need it, and she deserves respect which includes not putting ya hands on her. Pop influenced that violent nature in us both, and we gotta be the ones to end it. I don’t want my son murking a nigga in the middle of a party, and I’m sure you don’t want AJ putting his hands on women. That generational shit gotta cease with us.”

Ayan bobbed his head to cosign. “You right. You know we ain’t ever been raised or taught how to respect women.”

“We haven’t, no, but I made sure to learn. You in ya thirties now, Ayan. That can’t be no excuse. It ain’t that hard. All you gotta do is keep ya hands to yaself and talk to her calmly. Then pay her what she need to make sure ya kids is good and comfortable, especially while you on the road.”

He nodded, palming his knee as he stared at the floor of my office.

Picking his head up, he said, “I’m sorry for taking her. To keep shit a buck, as much as I threw the shit in ya face, it was torture behind closed doors. Every time she zoned out or we fucked, I wondered if she was thinking about yo’ ass.”

Ignoring the last part of his statement because, what the fuck did he expect, I said, “Wasn’t mine to begin with if she could be taken. In hindsight, you did me a favor. I might’ve taken that girl all the way, started a family and shit, and never met Daylin, or met her while married to a woman who meant me no good and with a couple kids.”

Every time I thought about what life would’ve been like had LaMia and Ayan never got together, I shuddered. I thanked God I was single, childless, and unattached when I met my lady. As hurt as I was when all the shit went down with my ex and twin, I was now a firm believer that God worked in mysterious ways and to trust his work and path, even when it might not make sense yet.

“Daylin.” Ayan smirked. “Got you one that a nigga can’t even get a pleasant conversation out of this time, huh?” he jested.

“Absolutely.” I smiled, thinking of my baby. “What’s going on with that other baby mama?”

“Who?” Ayan froze, brows furrowed.

“The one LaMia fought, nigga. You got that many bitches hollering that they’re pregnant by you?” I stared at him, concerned slightly.

I never understood niggas who were reckless with their dicks or their sperm. I’d kill a bitch if she burned me, and my worst nightmare would be bringing a child into a broken home or giving them a mother that didn’t have good sense. Josias was a fool as far as Tarin was concerned, but at least he’d done somewhat well with Kasia. Ayan had lucked up with LaMia because despite her semi-manipulative behaviors and disloyal actions romantically, she was a good mother.

“Oh. She got that womb scraped the fuck out like I told her to. Females like her don’t give a fuck so long as you break ’em off. Knowing her, I wasn’t the only potential father, so she made out like a bandit on the money tip.”

I nodded, and he took that as a sign to leave.

I could only hope Ayan was genuine and I didn’t have to put him in the ground next to his father, but time would tell.

TWENTY-THREE

zaire godfrey

WHAT REALLY HAPPENED . . .

I perused the aisles impatiently, feeling slightly skittish like I always was around my father. Shit was hard to explain because I wasn’t exactly scared of the nigga and would fight his ass if needed, but the pain and torture he’d inflicted on my brothers and me coming up still taunted a nigga and gave my dad a haunting ass nature.

There was a feeling in the pit of my stomach as I tried to busy myself inside of the Vitamin Shoppe as he scoured the shelves looking for Ayan’s preferred protein powder.

“Fuck,” I mumbled, hating that I’d agreed to kick it with Ayan for the day, which led to me being at the Godfrey Boxing Gym with no whip.