After about three days of all-nighters—and still pushing bricks on the darknet—I finally managed to find where my mom was staying. It looked like her and her husband still lived in the hood, but a slightly better part of the hood. You know what I’m talking about? One of those areas that’s suburban enough to cost a lot of fucking money, but still close enough to the trenches that if you cross the wrong intersection, it’s straight-up active territory.
Her house was pretty nice, though. It had a decent-sized yard—about two thousand square feet of land. I still didn’t make enough legal income to buy a new car without raising some serious red flags with the IRS, so after some careful money laundering, I just got an Uber to her address. When I pulled up, there were three cars in the driveway.
Oh, okay,
I thought, straightening my clothes.
Seems like my mom was expecting some guests today. Nothing too crazy.
I walked up the porch and knocked.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
While I stood there waiting, I adjusted my collar to make sure I looked presentable. I’d spent about thirty minutes debating whether to wear my nice traditional Muslim thobe or just a basic-ass suit, but I was already here, so fuck it.
The door finally cracked open. I looked down at a girl standing in the entryway. She looked mixed-race, with curly, textured hair and pale caramel skin. To top it off, she had piercing blue eyes. I told myself she wasn’t even my type, but she was fine as hell.
Yep, she’s gorgeous,
the voice in my head whispered, immediately perking up.
Let’s try to rizz her up a little bit. Being locked up with all those niggas for so long has us starving to see some fine shit again.
“
Yo, gorgeous,” I said, leaning against the doorframe with a smooth grin. “I came here looking for the most beautiful woman in the city, but I think she’s already standing in front of me.”
She giggled, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “Hmm. Smooth talker, huh? You say that to all the girls?”
“Nah,” I said. “I always try to make up my lines on the fly. Being generic is boring as fuck.”
“I see,” she smiled, offering her hand. “My name is Sofia.”
“Rico,” I said, taking her hand and gently kissing the knuckles. “Sofia is a beautiful name.”
She started giggling so hard she literally snorted.
Yep. I still got it,
I thought.
“
So, how can I help you?” she asked, her blue eyes shining. “Other than being called pretty, I mean.”
“Yes, actually,” I said. “I’m here to see if Zola Kovacs is in. I looked up her address, and I was hoping to speak with her.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sofia said, stepping back. “She’s in her room changing. Would you like to... come inside~?”
Aww, I see,
I thought, my chest puffing out.
She is fucking with me heavy. I see you.
“
Hmmm, I wouldn’t mind that,” I said, walking through the doorway. “As long as I can walk through the back door, too, sometimes.”
“Depends on how much you want to,” she said, walking right next to me. “But I prefer mostly inviting my guests inside traditionally.”
“Okay,” I grinned, letting my voice drop low. “As long as the pipes aren’t leaking, I can fix some plumbing.”
She bit her lip, her eyes locked on mine. “So you’re very experienced at cleaning pipes, then?”
“Nah,” I said, leaning closer. “I like grabbing my sledgehammer and destroying walls. That way, I can get better access to the sinks and lay down some new pipe.”
“Mmm, really~?”
“The hell are y’all talking about?”
We both looked over. Standing in the hallway was basically the male version of Sofia, only he was decently built, with long dreads hanging over his shoulders.
“Who’s this nigga?” he barked, checking me on sight.
Oh, he’s trying to press me,
the voice in my head hissed.
“
What’s up, man?” I said, holding out my hand. “The name’s Rico. What’s good, twin?”
SMACK!
He slapped my hand away so hard it echoed.
“You ain’t my twin, Unc,” he sneered. “Fuck is wrong with you?”
“Tariq!” Sofia gasped, her face flushing.
I just held my hand up to stop her. “No, no, it’s cool. Some random nigga in your house, he has every right to act like that. But I’m not here for your sister, bro. I’m trying to talk to Zola Kovacs.”
Tariq looked me up and down, his eyes suspicious. “For what?”
“Tell her Rico is here, and you’ll find out.”
He hesitated for a second, contemplating whether he should try to fight me or not. Finally, he turned and yelled up the stairs.
“Mom! Some nigga named Rico is here!”
“Thank y—wait, what did you just say?” I blinked, the gears in my brain suddenly grinding to a screeching halt.
“Nigga, you heard what the fuck I said,” Tariq muttered.
Wait. Hold the fuck up...
I slowly turned to Sofia, a cold sweat breaking out on my neck. “Are... are both of you named Kovacs?”
“No,” Sofia said, looking confused. “He’s named Kovacs. Mine is my father’s Swiss last name, Müller.”
...Oh my God... Oh, sweet baby fucking Jesus.
“
The hell is wrong with this nigga,” Tariq muttered, looking at my pale face.
Before I could even process the fact that I’d just been aggressively dropping sexual innuendos on my own half-sister, my mom finally walked down the stairs.
“Rico?!”
“Hey...?” I squeaked out.
She quickly ran over and threw her arms around me, hugging me tight. I stood there stiff as a board, awkwardly patting her back.
“Ohhh, my baby is finally out!” she cried, before pulling back and looking at me. “Wait... who managed to actually bail you out?! Your bond was a million dollars!”
“Million-dollar bond?!” Tariq yelled, his eyes popping out. “Wait... is this nigga our brother?!”
“Brother?” Sofia whispered, her blue eyes widening as she stared at me.
“Yes, he is,” my mom said, beaming. “Say hello to your big brother, Rico Kovacs.”
Tariq’s face was as shocked as you’d expect. But I was more worried about Sofia. She was staring at me, her face completely pale, like she was desperately trying to calculate something in her head.
Well...
the voice in my head whispered, sounding utterly horrified.
Let’s just hope to God she’s not thinking, “Oh, well, we’re only half.”
Fuck no. Oh, fuck to the no! I am not doing that anime bullshit. I refuse to get mixed up in some incest shit!
We all sat down on the living room couch, and the vibe was instantly, painfully awkward. I sat there in my traditional thobe, feeling like a complete idiot. My mom tried to break the ice, explaining that her husband, Thomas, was at work but had always wanted to meet me.
Tariq was still shaking his head, completely blown away that I was even sitting in their living room.
“I’m still surprised you got out in the first place,” Tariq said, leaning back. “I mean, a million-dollar bond? You must know some high-level cartel kingpin who bailed you out or something.”
“Tariq, shut up and leave our
Big Brother
alone,” Sofia said, turning to him.
The way she heavily emphasized the words
Big Brother
made me cringe. My skin literally crawled, and I shifted uncomfortably on the cushions.
“
But really, Rico,” my mom asked, her eyes filled with concern. “How did you actually get out? Where did that kind of money come from?”
I didn’t want her to know I was currently pushing bricks of cocaine on the dark web as payment to get out of jail. So, I kept it as vague as possible.
“A shady businessman I helped in the joint gave me the cash,” I said. “We had a mutual agreement.”
Tariq let out a loud scoff. “I don’t buy that shit for a second, bro. Nobody helps someone out for free over a million dollars. You definitely had to do some illegal shit for that.”
I looked over at him. “Look, just because I embezzled some money from some banks and scammers doesn’t mean I’m a bad person overall.”
“You’re fighting a first-degree murder charge, nigga!” Tariq pointed out.
“Yeah, I might have killed somebody,” I said, my voice dropping. “But I’m not evil. I just hated the person I killed.”
Sofia leaned forward, her blue eyes wide. “Why did you kill him, Rico?”
I looked at her, then at my mom. I took a deep breath and laid out the whole story. I told them about Juliet. I explained how Nathan had taken advantage of an autistic girl and blackmailed her, which ultimately drove her to suicide. I told them about the leaked pictures, and how he’d shown absolutely zero remorse for any of it.
By the time I finished, the entire living room was dead silent.
They looked completely disgusted. But they weren’t disgusted at me. They were disgusted at Nathan.
“Man, fuck that dude,” Tariq gritted, shaking his head. “You made the right call to murk him, bro. He deserved to get clapped.”
I thought about it. My little brother actually had a valid point. At best, I’m looking at voluntary manslaughter. At worst, maybe second-degree murder.
When I went to that coffee shop, I hadn’t planned on killing Nathan. It just happened. I let my emotions take the wheel and snapped. If I was going to turn him into Swiss cheese, I’d preferred to have done it on my own terms. I like my Swiss cheese fresh, not moldy from being baited.
“But I don’t even know where she lives,” I said, looking at Tariq. “And even if I do find her, her life must be hella secure now. She’s probably living in some gated mansion, and the second her security sees my face, they’re gonna send my ass packing.”
“Baby, I know this is going to be difficult,” my mom said, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “But doing the right thing sometimes means you have to walk the rough road to make things right. I do feel sorry for her children, though. Imagine being born to a monster like that.”
“Don’t even get me started,” I muttered, my chest tightening. “Just thinking about those kids is pissing me off.”
Sofia moved closer on the couch, gently rubbing my back. “It’s okay. We’re family, Rico. We’ve got your back, and we’ll do everything we can to help you.”
Before I could say anything, they all leaned in and pulled me into a tight, warm hug.
And honestly? It felt really nice.
But before I got up to leave, I looked at all of them sitting on the couch.
“Hold on a second,” I said, standing up. “I need to show you the real reason why I came here today.”
I walked over to the front entryway where I’d left my heavy black suitcase sitting by the door. I dragged it back into the living room, lifted it onto the coffee table, and unzipped the lid.
Inside were stacks of neatly banded, crisp hundred-dollar bills. Exactly four hundred thousand dollars in cash.
My mom’s eyes went completely wide. Tariq and Sofia looked like their souls had just left their bodies.
“Rico...” my mom whispered, her voice shaking. “What... what is this?”
“This is for you,” I said, looking her in the eyes. “I want you to use this money to buy this house and the land it sits on outright. Get your credit score up, take out a small loan of about a hundred thousand if you have to, but buy this place so y’all own it. No more renting. No more landlords. This land is yours.”
“Where the fuck did you get this kind of money?” Tariq yelled, his voice cracking in sheer disbelief. “Rico, you literally just walked out of jail a week ago! How the hell do you have four hundred grand in a suitcase?!”
“Don’t worry about any of that,” I said, my voice low and firm.
I looked at my mom, then at Tariq, and finally at Sofia.
“My mama was abusive,” I said, letting the words settle in the quiet room. “But she got better. She’s trying to do right. And I’m a big brother now. It’s my job to make sure my family is straight. So don’t ask questions. Just make sure Mom is taken care of, and I’ll make sure you guys are taken care of next.”
I patted Tariq on the shoulder, turned around, and walked toward the front door.
My trial was still pending, and I was still pushing bricks on the dark web to pay off a million-dollar cartel debt. But right now? None of that mattered.
I had to go find Jasmine.
I stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind me, ready to take on the world.