“ꜱᴏ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ "ʙᴏʀɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ” ꜱʜɪᴛ. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ʙᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴏʟʟᴀʀꜱ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ɪᴛ. ɪ'ʟʟ ʙᴜʀʏ ᴍᴏᴍꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴇꜰᴛ ᴍᴇ: ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ, ɢ. ɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ꜰᴏᴜɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ, ꜱᴛᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴍᴇ.“
They say a bad parent is a traumatized child, caught in the fires of their own suffering, their thoughts more hurricane than poetry or soul. Andreko knew that to be true. His life purpose was empty of all but murder, greed, domination, and lust, leaving barely enough room for fatherhood. It wasn’t that he didn’t care for his children, whether the only form of love he knew how to express was materialistic wise. The sun had settled into the sky by the time Dreko made it back home where he’d abandoned Pharaoh and Kairi with Ms. Lady after tucking them in bed the previous night. He expected a harsh salutation from his godmother, but an intricate scene greeted him instead. Ms. Lady swept around the kitchen area while his kids tee-heed at the television with his father sandwiched between them. A burning rage hissed through his body like deathly poison as he used the back of his boot to shut the door, catching everyone’s attention. "Daddy!” Roh and Kai gleefully sang. They rushed towards him, clueless to the anger paralyzing Andreko where he stood. He welcomed their embrace, but his menacing glower was stuck on his father. Ms. Lady could sense how the air was so brittle it could snap, and if it didn’t, Andreko would. “Roh, I need you to take your sister upstairs. Y'all can finish that racing game up before y'all father takes y’all to school.” That’s all it took to get Pharaoh’s feet moving as Kairi shuffled behind.
“Why the fuck you got this nigga near my kids?” Andreko growled once his children were out of earshot. Ms. Lady heard the vexation and hurt in his voice, generating a sigh from her lips, but before she was able to plead her case, his father cut her off. “I stopped by to check on you since I caught wind that you were out of the big house. Apparently, you left my grandkids with Ms. Lady while you went and partied it up at that raggedy-ass strip club, so I stuck around to give her a hand. You don’t have any business tricking on them hoes at the PYNK, Dreko. Your number one priorities right now needs to be Pharaoh, Kairi, and getting the fuck outta these streets ‘cause next time you in court ya might be hit with the death penalty.” If red hot fury wasn’t nurturing Andreko like a newborn baby, he would guffaw at Antonio’s self-contradicting statement. Andreko hadn’t met his father until he was pushing thirteen years old. Antonio was too busy playing Iceberg Slim throughout the Mason-Dixie line that his presence in most of his children’s lives remained inconsistent. Really, the only memory Dreko had of his father was the times they would bump into each other when they were hustling on the same block. “Must I remind you that three of them’ ‘hoes’ working down there came from ya nutsack? You’re the last person that needs to be acting holy than thou and giving out parental advice. Matter ah fact, I ain’t even gon’ argue witcha. Bounce up out my crib fo’ I beat you like ah nigga that owes me some funds.” Andreko ridiculed, causing Antonio’s muscles to stiffen as his head cocked to the side.
Dreko had inherited his father’s callous spirit, which became evident as the male closed in on his son. “Watch how you talkin’ to me, motherfucka. "He darkly chuckled, continuing to instigate the suffocating tension. "I’m not dem jits you got pissing on themselves outchea. Your ass will join ya mama up yonder sooner than you thought disrespectin’ me like I’m bitch made.” Ms. Lady gasped as Dreko threw his body weight behind the fist that edged closer to Antonio’s face, hitting his jaw with such force blood pooled into his mouth. Andreko’s wrath had swallowed him whole and engulf his moralities when Antonio mentioned his deceased mother. There was a moment of stillness on both sides. If hatred was visible, the air would have been scarlet. Then suddenly movement, so much vigor in every punch. Antonio rained blows onto Andreko as if he meant to smash him into the very earth, and Andreko did the same. Both fought like they didn’t just want the other dead; they wanted them crushed, obliterated, nothing left to bury. Ms. Lady tried to separate the father and son, but only the screams of horror coming from the staircase could end the vicious battle for dominance. Breathing heavily, Dreko hovered over Antonio, gazing down at his father with abhorrence diluting his irises. "The only thing keeping me from putting a hallow point between ya eyes right now is my shorties. If Dior, Rue, and Zara wanna be on some kumbaya shit witcha, bless they fuckin’ heart, but you dead to me, Ton.” With that, Andreko stood to his feet. He hoicked a wad of blood onto Antonio’s expensive gators before retreating towards his distressed kids.
