Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
“Me fuck up,” Cooper said again when he saw that I was awake now.
I blinked and blinked again before sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “The fuck? How did you get out of your crib?”
“Me fuck up.”
Shaking my head, I grabbed my phone to check the time. “Shit.” It was after ten in the morning, but since it was Sunday, I had the day off—at least from work. My chaotic home life, however, was a different story.
Atlas must have known I was exhausted and had let me sleep in.
After reopening Harry’s, I’d gotten that itch to expand my empire and make sure any kids Atlas and I had together would want for nothing even after I was gone.
I’d bought out the vacant properties on Temperance Street and opened a second shop specializing in customizing cars as well as a tire shop. I’d leased out the other properties, and now there was also a tattoo parlor, barbershop, nail salon, and hair depot bringing life back to that once dying corner of Idlewild.
Atlas had convinced me to partner with Demi on the latter, and I admit it had been smart as fuck since it was next door to Demi’s salon, and I knew nothing about weave or selling it. To my utter fucking annoyance, those two had become thick as thieves after finding out they were second cousins, and now it was Demi this and Demi that—and vice versa.
Atlas had finished her fellowship training not too long ago and was now working for a practice in the city until she was ready to start her own.
I yawned and stared at my son as I listened to the pure chaos happening on the other side of the cracked bedroom door. “Where’s Mommy, Coop?”
“Me fuck up,” my son repeated louder this time.
“Aye, watch your mouth, boy.”
“Me fuck up.”
“You got me fucked up,” I said, frowning now. “What did I tell you about repeating what Daddy says?”
“Me fuck up.”
“Say it again, and no story for you.”
Cooper glared but was silent as I picked him up and placed him on my lap. He handed me the book I’d just read to his ass last night and rested his head against my chest as I began to read.
I used to do the funny voices and try to make it fun like I had my other kids who had eaten that shit up at his age, but Cooper would just mean mug me until I stopped and read normally. Even now, he frowned at the page in concentration while I read as if there would be a test after, and he didn’t want to fail.
Once I finished, I carried him into his room, where I gave him a bath and put him in his play clothes. He was more settled now that he was getting what he wanted. My youngest was a bit of a control freak and didn’t like to stray from his routine at all.
He woke up at the same time every day and liked a book before his bath, then juice, playtime, nap time, another fucking book, juice, playtime, nap time, and…you get the idea.
If we deviated from that routine even slightly, he’d get upset and tell us we had him fucked up.
His mother hadn’t found that as funny as I did when we first heard him say it and would catch an attitude with me every time. Now I couldn’t get his ass to stop.
I was carrying Coop out of his room to go downstairs for his juice when the door across the hall flew open. “Ooh, Dad, you’re awake! Can I have twenty dollars?” my begging-ass daughter asked.
“For what, Yas? And why didn’t you get Coop out of bed? You know how he gets.”
My eldest shrugged and crossed her arms. “I didn’t know he was awake. He wasn’t even crying.” Because Coop never cried. He just sat and plotted his revenge like a psychopath in the making. “I need the money because my school trip is tomorrow, remember?”
“Nope,” I lied and kept walking. I had no doubt she’d already fleeced the money from her mom. Just the other day I saw her lift a hundred out of Joren’s wallet when he came over to watch the game.
I swore my damn kids were some crooks.
Two more of them appeared out of nowhere as I started for the stairs.
“Hi, Daddy!” Malayah, my youngest daughter and only semi-good child, greeted me as she raced past.
“Yeah, what’s good, homie?”
I stopped and spun around to regard my eldest son. “Excuse me, little boy?”
“I meant, good morning, Pops!” Sincere darted into his room and slammed the door behind him.
Coop and I went downstairs, where I sat him at the table and gave him juice and dry cereal before continuing my search. I checked the living room, where I found two more of my kids. Kyreem was standing against the wall wearing a devious grin as if there weren’t three steak knives embedded in the wall next to his head, while Kashton held a fistful of knives in one hand and was frowning in concentration as he held one raised in his other hand.