"Bitch I'm from a gang, homey what choo claim??... You know I got that thang... you can charge it to the game..." Diablo
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RAIN'S POV
Always observing, I watch the lawn crew a few feet away. And I notice the Diablo Familia tatts on the backs and shoulders of a few of the Mexicans, as one of them slowly pulls off his tank top.
Hot muscular and sweaty, I realize that I need some dick when that mothafucka catches me watching him and waves. Mexican Mafioso gone always fuck with the Carter, and now we're deep in their territory. My Auntie Keesha waves at the Diablo Familia driving that tractor, and then holds my hand while we walk back inside the main house, and into her sunroom. Here in Holmby Hills, California.
The Carter taking over LA. Yep, my aunties and my mama Toyia finally did it. They moved our whole Carter family to Cali, just like my Uncle King Ced and my big cousins Tobias, Kimani, and Grip, always dreamed about. But King DJ had a lot to do with the decision of course.
DJ and Cutta enlisted the help of our uncle Grip, and all the main crew did some type, huge investment and real estate development deal, and they built all these houses in this neighborhood and killed the architect. DJ don't be givin' a fuck, he believes in killin' a muhhfucka quick, but he's brilliant. This house is amazing, and these bushes are perfectly sculpted, rising up about twenty feet tall blocking the privacy fence, so reporters can't climb a tree and get a glimpse. And besides Diablo Familia, my Auntie Keesha literally got a fucking army of Zam Nwa and some of her and Baby D's crunk ass African children guarding her.
My adopted cousin Omi lived. He's from the Congo jungle, and we all thought he was killed but he's here with us now, and that nigga don't play dat shit about my auntie. At all. And we're safer here, after all the ATL gang shit we pulled, I know that much.
I watch my Auntie Keesha in that rainbow-colored Versace dress, with pockets on the sides, fitting her booty and her waist, my auntie fine as hell. And she know it too, I smile at her when she sits down across from me at this glass table, complete with Mimosas. I reach over and grab a glass, and start searching my Birkin for my blunt.
"I'm glad I can finally get this shit off my chest, because I now know that you won't say shit," my auntie tells me. I nod back. On my life.
"You knew that from the jump tho Auntie," I let her know.
"You're right," she admits. I watch her face.
"He lived," she clarifies in a whisper so quiet -- That I almost pass out on this floor, happy, relieved, and just so full of emotions!! Oh shit, I knew it!! I grip my auntie's hand and start crying.
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