“Marcos or Terror,” I threw up finger quotes to accentuate his hood name, “ain’t got to do shit for me! I got myself in this situation, and I will get myself out! I just need to get the fuck away from here and to my own home. Apparently, this nigga not checking for me, so he can fill this house with the next bitch he fucking since he ain’t got time to get out another bitch’s pussy to pick up the phone for me!”
“Give us a minute,” I heard Marcos’ voice boom from behind me. I don’t know when the hell he got in here, but his voice was firm, and I could tell he heard every word I just spoke. When I turned, his eyes were trained on me. He leaned his bodyweight against the refrigerator as Chante and Chubby exited without a word. His eyes continued to pierce mine until I finally looked at the ground.
“Look at me!” he snapped, and I obeyed him. “You talking all that shit, so don’t get fucking bashful now,” he urged.
“Well, where the hell were you? I was blowing you up all damn night, so don’t come in here acting like it’s cool that you've been a ghost. I fuckin’ needed you and you were nowhere to be found, so don’t yell at me!” I shot back at him. I wasn’t going to be the fool twice. He could act like everything was sweet, but it wasn’t, and I had some questions for his ass.
“First and foremost, you need to lower your damn voice when you talk to me. I get that you been through some shit, but you not the only one. Not only did I fucking move heaven and earth when I heard about what happened to you, I did that after getting shot for jumping in front of a bullet that could’ve hit MJ. Who I just fucking discovered may not even be my biological son after four fucking years of giving him my every damn thing. So, if you can’t talk to me like you got some damn sense, you need to close your fucking mouth. I never gave you a reason to doubt me. Not once. So don’t come at me like I have.”
“What?” I said breathlessly.
His words left me stunned. I couldn’t even fathom everything he just said. I was still at a loss as to who shot him. Did he say MJ wasn’t his? How did he find out? Even though all these questions floated through my mind, I knew better than to give them life from my lips. He wasn’t trying to hear shit, and he made that clear. I didn’t know what to do but stare at him. His left hand reached across his body and babied what I assumed was a gunshot wound on his right side, as he planted himself firmly on his two feet. Why is he even here when he should bein a hospital? I wanted to comfort him, but my words failed to come. I knew for a fact that MJ was the most crucial thing in his life. He let me know from the moment we spoke over the phone. I could tell that by the way he waited to allow me to meet him, even with the fact that we had known each other for years.
“I’m sorry… I’m really sorry, baby.” I fought out.
“It ain’t shit,” he spoke, trying to wave it off. He couldn’t lie to me. I knew he was cut to the core. He turned his face away from mine. I reached up, placed my hand on his cheek, and turned him to face me again.
“It’s fucked up to find something like this out, baby. With what just happened to me, I just…I’m sorry.”
“You okay?” He looked at me squarely.
“I’m scared. I was just fueled with emotion when I saw that sleazy nigga on my sister. I just couldn’t,”
“Shh, nah, come here.” He pulled me close. I raised on my toes and kissed his lips gently. He surprised me when he deepened our kiss and pulled me against him. I was trying to be careful not to hurt him. I saw that he wasn’t letting go, so I returned his embrace and felt a flood of emotion travel through me. Before I knew it, I was balling like a baby again while we both did our best to soothe each other. We would have stayed there all night if Chante hadn’t interrupted us.
“Y’all good in here?” She tiptoed into our area.
“Yeah, we will be,” I responded as we both composed ourselves. She quickly disappeared into the house. He enveloped my hand in his, and we sauntered toward the bedroom. Before we went in, he spoke to me, “I’m going to fix all this for us. I need you to trust me. I need you like air, especially right now. Shit about to get murky for a minute, and I need to know you believein me, or as much as I love you, this shit won’t work. So, I need you to think about whether or not you can give me that.”
That was the last word he said to me for the rest of the night. I peeled my clothes off quietly and slipped into bed next to him. I didn’t push him to talk. I just thought about his request. There was so much I didn’t understand about my situation, and now to add his on top of it all made me feel a crushing weight. For him to ask me to trust him right now, after all the betrayal that I just experienced, not even twenty-four hours ago, was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. Everything was so fresh, and I hadn’t even processed the fact that my mother may not make it. I knew at this very moment there was nothing I could do about all this. As much as I tried to act like Superwoman, I was nothing close to it.
I'd fallen short so often lately when it came to my mother and sister. I didn’t even know the first step in trying to take care of it all, so I had no other option but to trust him fully. The pain that we were going through simultaneously connected us. He knew what I was feeling inside without a shadow of a doubt. The only problem with that was he was a man, and in my experience, no matter how good you are to them, they always let you down in the end. All I could do was pray that he didn’t fall into that category because I had no second chances left inside of me.
Chapter 24
Kole
“WHAT THE HELL DID I TELL YOU? I SHOULD FUCKING FINISH YOU OFF MYSELF!” my father ranted while his doctor worked on the wound on my leg. I grimaced as the doctor pulled the bullet from my flesh. Terror only got one shot to land on me. One in my right leg, the other grazed my right arm. He was so caught up in trying to save my son that he left an opening for me to pop his ass. That’s why I was confident that Kole Junior couldn’t spend another moment around any of his so-called parents. They both were weak as hell. I was starting to detest everyone around me for showing me their hand.
Don’t get me wrong, I wanted my son to grow up and have a good life, but shit at some point, you have to think about yourself, not someone else. I don’t care who it was. Terror jumped into a bullet for the boy, and he wasn’t really in any real danger with me. I knew who I wanted to kill, and I just wanted KJ to witness it. Instead, the shot that would’ve landed in his dome landed in his side because he dove at me to protect a boy that wasn’t even his.
“ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING?? YOU SHOULD’VE STUCK WITH THE PLAN, GAH DAMMIT! YOU MADE IT PERSONAL!” My father continued to yell while pacing. I looked at his face, and his forehead creased into worrisome lines. He was nervous, no, he was afraid. I pressed a smile on my lips as the doctor secured the final bandage and stood on my feet.
“You don’t control me, old man. You should know that by now. You got something you're not telling me, and it’s written all over your face. Who the fuck are you afraid of? Because I can guarantee you should be more afraid of me.” I closed the distance between us, and I looked into his face. The minimal respect I had for him was vanishing by the second. He was nothing more than a figurehead, and he wanted to treat me like a puppet and pull my strings. He wasn’t wrong, though. This shit was personal, and I would dead that nigga Terror promptly. I knew he would hide from me along with his family, but I knew one bitch that would be assed out. As long as I could trace Crystal, there would always be a link to Terror. This shit my father was doing was secondary.
“Don’t challenge me, Kole. You were called upon to do a job, and you didn’t complete it! It was about money. You got into a dick swinging competition about a son that you barely took the time to be with. I spent more time with that boy than you have. Now this is it! It’s getting too sloppy, and this is not how we operate. You are relieved of your duties, so get the hell out of here and do whatever it is that you do until I need you again.”
“I think I’ll stay a while. Nothing like spending time with my old man,” I said sarcastically, patting him on the shoulder. I had never seen a dark man’s face flush until that moment. He was bothered, and for the life of me, I couldn’t put my finger on why. It had piqued my curiosity to an all-time high. Hestraightened up his clothes and went to his fireplace, where he kept his cigars. He lit one and took an inhale.
This was the type of thing he did to his minions in an attempt to scare them because they didn’t know what was coming next. Just as I thought, he pulled out his Samurai Katana sword from behind the picture he had hanging on the wall. Before he could turn around, my Glock made its way under his chin. His eyes popped momentarily before he tried to play it cool.
“Get that out of my face!”
“Next time you think some bullshit concerning me, think again,” I growled in his face, keeping my gun in place for effect. When I felt like my message was clear, I holstered my weapon, pulled him by the collar to me, and spoke again. “I can smell the fear radiating off of you. I would tell you to tell me what it is, but you know I love puzzles. Riddle me this, though: at the end of this game, do you make it out alive?”
“GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” he yelled, snatching away from me. I laughed in his pathetic ass face. To think he was someone I held in such high regard at one time. I would leave, but not because he told me to. I had business to handle, and I needed to get moving. To add insult to injury, I snatched the cigar from his hand, brought it to my mouth, and blew the smoke in his direction.
“I’ll be seeing you around, pops.” I exited his home and went to my car. Even though I was sporting a slight limp from my wound, I still felt 100 percent. It wasn’t the first time I had been shot, and the meds that the doctor had given me gave me wings. It was either that or the fact that I knew I was now the one with the upper hand. What I would always have over any adversary in my path is that they had something to consider.Me? I didn’t give a fuck about shit. I was curious about why my father was so determined to protect Terror. Maybe I could have a little fun with this. I may keep Terror alive long enough to figure out why, or maybe I wouldn’t. Either way, the inevitable battle between my father and me was simmering and was soon to boil over. We both knew that.
