“Go on with that shit, Britt. I already got one weak hoe to deal with; I don't need another one. You can't have my fucking baby, man. This shit is too messy.”
“But you can fuck me raw and nut in my pussy without dealing with the consequences of your actions?”
“That shit was one time.”
“That's all the fuck it takes! You know what? Get the fuck out of my car! Go be with that boring-ass cunt. She’ll never satisfy you the way I can.”
“She probably won't. I ain't trying to stop fucking with you, baby. We’re in business together. Why do you want to ruin that by throwing a baby in the mix?”
“Because I’d choose having a pregnancy over running packages for you any day. I want what the fuck you promised me, and I ain't stopping until I get it.”
Her last statement held a lot of conviction. It was one of the reasons I kept Jela out of sight and locked in the house. The reason I never gave her a car was that I couldn't risk her being out and running into Brittany or these other bitches I kept time with. All their asses were crazy and would hurt her the moment they got their hands on her. They hated her because I gave her the crown. I was protecting her but also making sure she didn’t get any ideas about trying to run back home. I knew once her bougie-ass mama got ahold of her, she was going to make problems for us.
“If you go forth with this pregnancy, I promise I'm not fucking with you no more.”
“What does she have that I don't? Huh? I know she ain't fucking you right because you keep coming back to me. So, what is it, Dame? I need to know.”
“You came up with the idea to separate?—”
“Yeah, but I didn’t go out here claiming another nigga and planning to marry him! Stop fucking swerving! You love that pretty, little raggedy bitch!”
“I do, but I love you too. I have to be here for my daughter.”
“Fuck that bitch-ass baby!”
Before I could stop myself, my hands were around her throat as I squeezed it tightly. “Call Jela all the bitches you want, but don’t youeverspeak on my seed like that. I’ll kill yo’ stupid ass and leave yo’ body on the side of the highway. Don’t fucking play with me, Brittany. I draw the fucking line right there.”
I pushed her away from me as she sobbed. I didn’t care how disrespectful she got about Jela, but Scottlyn would never be a victim of her wrath. I’d seriously hurt anybody who disrespected her in any way.
“Fuck you, Damien! Get out of my car! I hate you!”
I opened the door and attempted to get out, but she pulled me back.
“I love you. I’m only giving you a month to get rid of that bitch, or I’m coming here with my bags and moving in. She can't reap all the benefits, and you’renotabout to treat me like I'm second choice.”
I didn’t respond as I got out of her car and closed the door. Brittany pulled out of the driveway as I got inside my whip and pulled off to meet up with my pops.
I pulled into the subsidized housing complex and parked in front of his door. While I should have been getting ready to meet with the wedding planner with Jela, I was here to see the man who undoubtedly didn’t deserve my presence. Truce was right about him. The nigga was always right about shit when it came to me, and I hated it. I had been in contact with Damien Senior three years after Truce immobilized him. He called me and apologized profusely for what he did to our moms, but I wasn't trying to hear it.
While growing up, my pops did nothing but belittle me. While he never put his hands on me, he always tried to pit me against my brother, saying shit to try to make me hate him.
That nigga Truce thinks he’s better than you.
Truce got mo’ money than you, lil’ nigga. What you gon’ do to get your own?
You gon’ let him outshine you?
What it look like having my son follow in another nigga’s shadow?
The constant nagging in my ear didn’t do shit but make me hatehisass. He hated on my brother relentlessly and wanted me to one-up him all the time. It’s the reason I started selling drugs heavily, so that I could be on Truce’s financial level. He never had to really deal with my pops because he lived with his. Mr. Iman was a cool dude. He never made me feel unwanted, even though he hated my father and wanted to fuck him up. Any time I’d go visit my brother during the winter break at their house, I was able to be free and happy without that nigga in my ear.
I never told Truce that Damien had me in a lot of bad shit growing up because I knew Truce would flip out. He was always calm, but he’d go nuts over the people he loved. Tru had always been a protector. I found that out when he came to live with us and threatened to beat Damien’s ass the first time we witnessed him put his hands on our moms. The nigga was only thirteen, but his height and build must have intimidated Damien Senior because that nigga started sneak-hitting our moms.
I never really said shit about the hidden hits because I felt like Delilah favored Truce over me, so while I didn’t like to see her get her ass beat, I also didn’t really care too much. I may have been slightly envious of Truce because he had the better pops, but I could never bring myself to hate him for real. Every time I wanted to be mad at him or beat his ass, he’d spit some real shit and have me feeling stupid, like this morning. I knew what I was doing was fucked up, but the man whose doorstep I was walking to told me that in order to make a woman respect me, I had to use physical force.
Hell, clearly the nigga was right because Jela’s used-to-be smart mouth was non-existent now. I knocked on the door, and a few seconds later, his crippled ass answered it.
“Junior… good to see you.”
