“Marcos, I know you didn’t just hit this girl!” My mother scolded me.
“Hell naw. Ain’t nobody hit her dumb ass.”
“Terror, please! You are the only father he knows. I know he may not be—"
“Don’t you ever fucking let those words leave your fucking mouth! That is MY son, and you bet not tell him shit different! Get the fuck out of this house. MJ is gonna be with me until I kill that nigga, and after that time, you will be able to see him again on my terms. You don’t even have enough sense to keep him safe. I don’t trust you around him.”
“That’s not fair! He’s my son, too. Where am I supposed to go? I don’t have any money and I can’t go back to my house. What am I supposed to do???”
“Bitch you think I give a fuck where your next meal coming from? You got down on me four years, and you think I’m trying to hear about what you don’t have? Bitch get over on the next nigga like you did me, for all I give a fuck. What I do know is you betta get yo’ ass out of here because I don’t got shit else for you!” I tried to grab her, but the wound on my side made my body snap back upright at the slightest bend.
“Look, Crystal, it’s time for you to go,” my mom interjected.
“But Ms. Lyn—"
“No buts! Get yo’ ass out of here, girl! You don’t have enough sense to know that I just saved yo’ ass. You are dead ass wrong, and the only reason I let you stay for a second is because of my grandbaby. Now you worn out your welcome.” My mother pulled her up from the floor and took her out the front door. I went to the bedroom where MJ was sleeping. I hated this for him. I never imagined that he would have had to witness what he did. I never had him anywhere near my street life. He knew nothing about what I did, outside of the restaurant. Now, gunshots and murder would invade his dreams at the age of four. I’m sure he would have a lot of questions, and I would have to explain a lot. At this point, there was no sugar coating. I would have to be real with him and help him through this, just like he was helping me through my own truth.
I left MJ sleeping after saying a few silent prayers over him. I knew it was time to air shit out. I couldn’t hesitate on what I needed to do. Kole was going to be a distant memory as soon as I got hold of his ass. It was either him or me, but we both couldn’t stand. No man would try to kill me and think it wasn’t some shit coming his way. Furthermore, I couldn’t let him have MJ. He only wanted him for selfish reasons. He wasn’t a part of his life this long; now, all of a sudden, he wanted to pop up. It was more to this than just MJ, and I had to get to the bottom of that, too.
I centered my thoughts. I thirsted for revenge like I hadn’t had a drink in years, but I needed to be smart. I couldn’t afford to miscalculate this. When I took my shot at him, it would end some shit, not leave me with unanswered questions. Why the fuck was he here, and what did he want? It wasn’t adding up. I shook my head when I thought that Crystal was probably the only one who could help me answer those questions.
I took my phone out of my pocket and plugged it into the charger in the corner of the room.
Dyami.
She took possession of my thoughts aggressively. I knew she was probably calling me and was worried. I would have to tell her about all this. She was a little apprehensive by nature, so I would tell her enough to keep her informed. I didn’t want to scare her. I would also need to keep her safe. This would be my mom’s last day in this house, and I would have to move Dyami, too. Nobody was getting close to anyone I loved. It was time to turn shit up, and I wouldn’t let my people get caught in the crossfire.
Once my phone had enough juice, I powered it on, and it began to vibrate and chime, as if it had been off for a week instead of a few hours. Maybe the streets had heard about what happened. I looked, and I had hundreds of missed calls and hundreds of texts. I scrolled through and found some frantic texts from Dyami that made me sit up. Over ten, please answer the phone messages, then more.Where are you? I need your help!And more aggressive messages asking where I was. Then the last one knocked the wind from me.
I think I’m going to jail. Please tell me what to do!
What the fuck was going on?
Chapter 23
Dyami
Istood there in a trance while everything was moving in slow motion. I still held the bloody knife in my hand. The knife that was covered in Jay’s blood. He lay on the bed writhing in pain. I wanted to finish the job, but Chante was holding me with all her might. This nigga had done the last fucking thing he would ever get away with. I had to draw the fucking line somewhere, and today, right now, was it! Trina was frantically trying to cover his wounds. She was screaming, and I was fighting like hell to break free. I was fueled by hate, and I wanted to set this nigga on fire until he burned to ashes.
“Trina, shut the hell up!” I snapped, and she began to cry profusely, still covering Jay like he was the love of her life.
“Aaaarggghh! Please call 911! HELP! HELP!” Jay screamed in agony.
Hearing him call for 911 brought me crashing down to earth. I couldn’t be here. No one could know I did this. My life would be over, right along with everything I worked so hard for. I wasn’t ready to be in anyone’s prison. I dropped the knife from my hands, it hit the ground, and I felt Chante’s grip loosen, even though she didn’t fully let go.
“I’m calling right now, Jay. Please hold on!” Trina cried, reaching for her phone. That’s when Chante let me go, snatched the phone from Trina, and pulled her up from the bed.
“We are leaving right now!” Chante demanded.
“We can’t leave him here! What if he dies?” Trina responded, trying to get back to him, but Chante blocked her.
“Trina, he can take care of himself. He is a nasty ass grown man, and he will not die. It’s just a damn steak knife!” Chante then turned to Jay and spoke to him. “Shut yo’ bitch ass up! You can call the fucking ambulance for yourself once we leave, but if you say a word about my friend, I swear to God my brother will flatline yo’ whole fucking family! You a nasty ass nigga and you deserve more than what you got! LET’S GO NOW!”
“I’m not leaving my man!” Trina shouted.
“Trina, if you don’t march yo’ little ass out this house right now, I swear I will beat yo’ ass like yo’ mama should have,” Chante said as she snatched Trina up in a bear hug, told me to get the knife, and we left Jay on the bed crying like the bitch he was. Chante’s instincts kicked in, and I was happy she was there to orchestrate the situation.
We ran into the car with blood-soaked hands, and I was trying to stay calm, but all I could think about was that I could’ve made one of the biggest mistakes of my life. What if Jay did tell the police I was the one who hurt him? I wasn’t made for prison, no matter how tough I was. Chante was barking orders, and Trina was in the back seat, crying. I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I just started calling Marcos frantically. It was going straight to voicemail. I messaged and called but had no luck. My head was spinning because there was never a time when I couldn’t contact him since we had been together. Granted, it wasthe middle of the night, but still, if I was calling this late, it was a fucking emergency, and he should be there! Where the hell was he and what was he doing?
