then plopped down onto his chaise lounge.
“Pellegrino’s, Mox. Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talkin’ about. You sent that fuckin’ drunk in there to shoot up the place.”
Mox’s brow furred. He stood up and faced Cleo. “I ain’t sent nobody to do nothing... and I don’t know what the fuck a Pelleninos or Pellepinos or...” he hesitated, “whatever that is. All I know is that I was getting’ my dick sucked and the phone rang. I saw it was you, so I picked up. Right after I said I’ma call you back, somebody start knocking on the door.” Mox tipped the bottle again. “Kim went to see who it was and all I heard was a cannon. I had to let a couple go in order to buy some time and then I got low.”
Cleo interrupted. “Aight, so what that got to do with the Italians?”
“Are you serious, Cleo?” Mox couldn’t understand Cleo’s reaction. “That big, pasta eatin” muthafucka spit Vito’s name out before I fixed him.”
“C’mon, Mox stop lyin!” He yelled.
Mox was offended. “First of all, lower ya muthafuckin’ voice in my crib. Second, when have I ever lied about some shit as serious as this?” His eyes were trained on Cleo. “Don’t let ‘em brainwash you, cousin. You of all people know how I get down.”Cleo didn’t know how things would play out. The monthly sit down was days away and here he was stuck in the middle of a potential war with the Telesco crime family.
“Aight, listen. Let me apologize for yellin’ in your home, but this is what gotta happen.” He took a seat. “We got a few days until Vegas, Mox. I know they killed shorty, but I need you to be cool until we sort this out. I spoke to The Old Man, and as long as you don't move, they won’t move.”
Mox shook his head. “I don't trust ‘em.”
“Trust me, Mox. Please?”
__________
Christmas day came, and light snow flurries fell from the sky like confetti. Children were out in full swing by 9:30 am riding new bikes and racing remote control cars.
Hustlers huddled on street corners hustling and the homeless sought refuge from the blistering cold weather.
Even though Mox had never received a gift on Christmas, it was still one of his favorite holidays. Growing up, he always looked forward to waking up early on this day and rushing across the hall to Cleo’s house just to play with his toys. Cleo didn’t get much either, but it was more than what Mox had.
He put his Moncler bubble coat on and tied a scarf around his neck. He knew to dress appropriately, because he would be standing in the wind for most of the day.
His phone rang as he was getting into his truck.
“Hello?”
“Mox, I think I’ma cool out today. I don’t feel like being bothered.” Cleo said.
He was anticipating this call. For his first Christmas home, Mox spent a few thousand dollars on gifts for some of the less fortunate kids in the community. He rounded up a few teens from the Boys & Girls Club and they were going to pull up to the projects in a big trailer and hand out gifts to everyone who came out.
“C’mon Cleo, it’s my first Christmas back. Don’t make me come over there and snatch your big ass out the bed. It’s for the kids, man.”
“I ain’t feeling it Mox. I got a lot of shit on my mind.”
“You ain’t the only one. Last night I had to make that call to Kim’s people. Imagine how I’m feelin’.”
“Word. I might come through. No guarantees though.”
“Aight. Peace.” Mox tossed the cell phone in the passenger seat. He knew he wasn’t coming. It was the same thing every time with Cleo. If it didn’t benefit him in any way, shape or form, he wasn’t with it. His selfish ways hadn’t changed at all. They just grew worse.
The trailer pulled into the parking lot and the children's faces lit up like Christmas lights when the back doors to the massive vehicle opened up. Mox and his
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