I shifted my bags in my arms and turned around to head towards the house when I heard what appeared to be Born, yelling at someone.
Hearing his voice brought joy to my ears because it meant he was now home, safe and sound. My happiness was cut short as I realized that
the yelling was coming from inside my house, not the garage. He had better be yelling at someone on the phone because he knows how I
feel about his boys being inside my house! Nigga’s don’t know how to respect shit and I’ll be damned if they’re gonna disrespect my house! I’
m tired of having to clean up after those grown assed men like they’re kids.
As I approached the front door, I shifted the bags to enable me to free one arm to locate my house keys to open the door. I could still hear
Born yelling at the top of his lungs like he was crazy. I froze in place, letting the bags slide slowly down my arms onto the ground as quietly as
possible and placed my ear to the door. I still couldn’t determine if he was talking on the phone or if someone was in the house with him. As
I listened I could tell that Born was pausing in the midst of his yelling and I don’t hear a voice responding so I assume he’s on the phone.
I decided to enter the house so I reached into my pocketbook and pulled out my house keys. I keep them on a different key ring from my
car keys so that I don’t mess up my ignition with the weight of extra keys. I took my time sliding my house keys in the door. I turned the
lock very slowly so that Born wouldn’t hear me coming in. I eased the door open. Then I reached down, picked up my bags, stepped into
the house and set the bags down by the front door. I turned around, gently removed my keys from the door and placed them quietly back
inside my purse. I slowly placed my left hand on the back of the door and my right hand on the door knob gently pushing the door closed
and twisting the knob to secure it in place. I finished by locking the deadbolt lock. I was taking every precaution to ensure that Born would
not hear me entering. I walked over to the living room entrance and stuck my head around the corner of the foyer wall to see where Born
was. There he was, standing in our living room pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
“So what are you trying to say to me?” Born asked the person on the phone. He paused, awaiting a response.
Born must not have liked the person’s response because he pulled his cell phone from his ear, looked at it, and turned the receiver towards
his mouth and yelled, “THEN GET AT ME!” He slammed the flip top shut and threw the phone onto the nearby table in the living room. He
looked up and jumped as if I had startled him. Based on the expression on his face I assume he realized I heard some of his conversation.
“What’s wrong Baby?” I inquired while trying to delay running to the bathroom to empty my bladder. If you’ve ever been pregnant, you’ll
know that’s almost impossible to do.
“Everything is alright.” He replied with a slight bit of an attitude.
“Don’t get funky with me.” I retorted.
“It’s not you Baby, it’s this mother fucking dude. Never mind, it’s nothing.” He tried to shrug it off but I knew that whoever he had been
speaking to on the phone had gotten under his skin and he was clearly pissed off.
“That didn’t sound like everything is alright.” I pressed him. His facial expression changed. He appeared to be trying to stay calm in front of
me. I knew he wanted to blow his top but he continued to keep his cool. I guess he was considering the fact that I’m five months pregnant
and doesn’t want to get me or the baby upset. I know he doesn’t think I’m stupid enough to believe him, after what I just heard.
“It’s nothing, Baby Girl, just finish doing what you were doing.” He coaxed as he walked over to me and kissed my forehead. He began to rub
my stomach then looked around me to all of my bags that were still sitting on the floor near the front door. He walked over to the bags,
bent over slightly, opened them and began moving items aside.
“Did you bring me anything?” He asked me as he looked back over his shoulder at me.
“That’s what I should be asking you. You’re the one coming back from New York.”
“Yeah but I was up there for business.”
“Is there something that you need?” I asked him.
“Nah, I just wanted to see if you thought about me enough to buy me something that’s all.”
“Well no I didn’t get you anything, shit I didn’t get myself anything either. All of this is for the baby, do you want to see?” I picked the bags
up to show him what I had bought.
“How did you buy stuff for the baby when we don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl?”
“I chose neutral colors, yellow and green, which either a boy or a girl can wear.”
“Okay, I got you.” He said as he walked past me into our bedroom and sat on the edge of our bed. I followed him. He reached over to his
dresser drawer, pulled out the top left drawer and pulled his twin nickel plated 9 mm Springfield guns out. He then reached into the same
drawer again and pulled out a box of bullets and a pair of black leather gloves.
“What are those for?” I asked as I sat on the bed next to him. I placed the shopping bags down on my side and watched him put the
leather gloves on one hand at a time. He then began to load the clips for those damn guns. I know there is about to be trouble when he
has to take those damn things out. I also know that his next move will be to call Marcel’s ass up and both of them are going to hit the
streets like two fools.
“Listen, we can’t have this shit.” I said after I had sat there for a moment. I lay back on the bed to stretch my body out in order to loosen
my pants in attempt to remove some of the pressure off of my bladder.
“I don’t have time to discuss this, Baby.” He got up, sucked his teeth and placed both of the nines on top of his dresser, fully loaded. He
walked into the bedroom closet, moved a few things around and retrieved his sawed-off 12 gauge Maverick Mossberg shotgun that had been
stashed in the house for me.
“Oh my God!” I gasped.
He reached inside the closet again and pulled out a duffle bag. He dug inside the bag and pulled out the Tommy gun drum for the shot gun
and connected it to the bottom. He then grabbed another gun out of the bag. I’ve never seen this gun before.
“What is that?” I asked with a look of astonishment on my face.
“Oh, this thing? This is my new toy. It’s a Mack 10 and it holds 32 in the clip.” He replied as he pulled it out into full view, examined it, and
showed me its clip. He then pulled an extra clip out that appeared to be empty.
“Who did you get it from?” I asked trying to find out which one of his no-good friends had sold that damn thing to him.
“You don’t know him.” He walked back towards me and laid both of the guns on the bed next to me. He walked back over to the dresser,
reached down and picked up one of the nines and tucked it in the front of his pants under his shirt. He picked the second nine up and
tucked it in his lower back pants, under his shirt.
“Is this the reason you were just beefing on the phone?” I asked as I grabbed the new Mack 10 gun.
“Hell no, you know I don’t sell guns. I fuck’s with product.” He gently snatched the gun out of my hand as if I didn’t know how to hold it
right.
“Then why do you need that damn thing or those you just put under your shirt?”
“Just to make sure I’m covered.” He said arrogantly.
“REMEMBER, I’m having your child!” I barked in terror.
“I know you are! Why do you find the need to keep telling me that?”
“Because you act like you don’t have a care in the world.”
“Baby you know I care.” He said as he pulled me to my feet and into his arms.
“Then start acting like you care.” I pulled away and left him standing there looking lost.
“That fuckin’ dude, Kenny, said my work isn’t the work he gave me to hold for him.” Born explained in a hostile tone. I guess my pulling away
from him like I did made him want to discuss what was going on.
“Don’t you mean to sell for him?” I asked with sarcasm.
“I don’t sell for no one anymore. He asked me to cook it up for him and he was going to look out on a package coming my way from his
connect.”
“And why didn’t he cook it up himself?”
“All of his spots are hot. The cops are watching them.”
“And you don’t think that they know you’re doing this for him?”
“Nah, we never meet face to face. He always leaves his work in a hideout and I have one of my guys go by and get it. After it’s all done, my
guy turns around and has one of Kenny’s bitches meet him for lunch or dinner and they give it to her.”
“And you don’t think the cops know that by now?” I asked him looking at him like he was stupid.
“Whatever.” He looked at me as if to say it wasn’t the time to be a smart ass.
“What makes him think it’s not the same stuff?” I asked him out of curiosity, getting back to the root of the problem.
“A crackhead that he used to sell to saw him and told him that the shit he bought from him last time was weak as hell and that he’s going to
take his business elsewhere. In order to keep his business, Kenny gave the nigga some shit for free.
“So what does that mean?”
“It means that nigga Kenny had to take an ‘L’ on the sale to avoid losing a customer and avoiding bad business. Now he has to build up his
credibility again if he wants to keep his clientele; because there had to be other customers that felt the same way. It also means it’s on and
popping because he has to show the streets that he’s going to get at whoever tried to fuck him on his package.” Born said as he walked
over to the bed, picked up the shottie, and racked the slide open. I saw one of the cartridges load right in from the drum.
“What are you talking about?” I was confused. “What do you have to do with it?”
“Baby, he’s trying to say that when I was cooking up the dope for him that I was stretching the work to make some extra money off the
top.” He grumbled while searching for extra bullets to load the other Mack 10 gun clip.
“So, what does that mean?” I asked again and waited for a clear answer. I felt the need to get more details from him.
“It means that I have to go and see that dude before he comes to see me first. As a matter of fact…” He continued to vigorously search in
his top dresser drawer.
“As a matter-of-fact, what?” I wanted to know what else he had planned for tonight.
“Ah, here it is!” He yelled as he snapped whatever it was into place and put it into his pocket quickly. He glanced over his shoulder at me to
see if I had seen what he had done. I sat back down on the bed and watched him.
“What is that?” I snapped at him as I leaned to the right on the bed to see if I could see around him to view what he had placed in his
pocket.
“Nothing.” He answered a little too quickly. I felt like he was trying to keep me from repeating the question, but that wouldn’t work. I’m
damn sure going to ask him again. He knows better than that. He knows I’m not one of those chicks where their man tells them nothing is
going on and they leave it alone.
“What the fuck did you just snatch out of there and throw in your pocket?” I asked in an elevated voice and with a stern look on my face. I
strained to see the outline of his pants pocket while waiting for him to respond.
If he didn’t respond quickly I would get up and try to search his pocket myself. I really was not in the mood to play. It was clear that danger
was lurking in the shadows.
“It’s this!” Born put his hand in his pocket and removed a 24 kart gold, diamond cut cross. He had told me, when we first met, that his
mother had given him that cross just after his father was murdered. It really meant a lot to him.
At that exact moment, I realized that his father was wearing that same cross when he was murdered. Actually, when the police had gotten
to the scene of his murder, they said his father was clenching it in his bloody hand. The cops said he must have snatched it off himself. They
speculated he had done it so that whoever had shot him wouldn’t take it. Come to think of it, his father was murdered doing the same thing
that Born was about to do! He was trying to prove himself. Like father, like son.
“So, what are you telling me? That you want me to wait around to receive a call telling me that you’re dead?” I asked with fear and a
trembling voice. Tears began to form in the corners of my eyes.
“Nah Ma. You’re not going to be waiting for anything, because you’re leaving.” Born replied, He turned around and began to dig further into
his drawer. He was no longer searching the top drawer. He had closed that drawer, knelt down and had opened the bottom drawer; which
was much deeper.
“I’m telling you right now I don’t do prison visits, Born!”
“Good, because I don’t do prisons stays.” He was full of confidence. He was still searching his drawer. I was becoming very agitated that he
could be getting so nonchalant about the whole thing. I felt like he was ignoring me. He wasn’t even looking at me. He was still digging in
that damn drawer.
“Oh, do you have some more surprises for me in that fucking drawer?” I was clearly pissed off. I was trying to hold back my tears so that he
wouldn’t see how upset I had become. I must admit that he has tried not to upset me during this entire pregnancy.
After finding what he was looking for, he answered, “It’s not a surprise if you already knew I had this in here.” He then held up a wad of
cash.
I became even more terrified. “What is that for, Born?” I asked. I was about to go into shock for real. I know danger is involved when a
nigga goes into his stash! Why would he go into his stash if he was positive he was coming back? That makes me feel that he’s uncertain
whether he’ll be returning or not.
I had to come up with a plan to make him stay home with me so I acted as if my stomach had begun to hurt. I faked labor pains.
“Oh my God!” I screamed while holding my stomach and folding over sliding to the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Born quickly jumped up and came over to me truly concerned. He helped me up and onto the bed to sit down.
“I think it’s time.” I said. When I looked into his eyes, he was staring right back into mine. I must have done a terrible job because he smiled
at me and said, “Nice try Baby Girl.”
I guess it was easy for him to tell I was lying because I don’t lie to him. I’m actually a terrible liar. He saw right through my bullshit.
“I’m serious Born.” I continued with the charade trying my hardest to sound as if I was in excruciating pain. He just started laughing at me,
walked back over to the drawer and grabbed the money again.
While handing the cash to me, he said, “Here, this is for you. I want you to call my man, Marcel, when I leave and tell him I said for him to
come get you. Then I want you to pack a few bags because you’re getting out of here. Marcel will know what to do.”
“And just where is Marcel supposed to take me?” I managed to ask while Born was counting out loud.
“That’s 1, that’s 2, that’s 3, and that’s 4 thousand dollars.” Born laid the cash in my hand. There were forty one hundred dollar bills in four
stacks of ten bills each.
“Born, please tell me where he’s taking me to!” I pleaded.
“No. You don’t need to know all of that yet. That’s my man, Ma. He’s gonna take good care of you and my baby. I trust him with my life so
you know I trust him with yours and the baby’s. I won’t allow anything to happen to ya’ll. Just do as I ask, Ma.”
Born reached under our king-sized sleigh bed and pulled out my largest suitcase. He stood up, placed it on the bed, unzipped and opened it.
He lifted his head and looked me dead in my eyes.
“Please Born, don’t do this to us.” I pleaded while referring to our unborn child. I began to rub my stomach, embracing my child as if to shield
him from this chaos that was going on.
“I’m not doing anything to ya’ll. I would never do anything to hurt either of you. You have to trust me on this.” Born tried to calm me while
rubbing my stomach. He leaned down and kissed it in an attempt to reassure me that everything would be alright.
“Born, if I stay here with you, everything will be okay. Nothing will go down. I don’t believe they will do anything to a pregnant woman. Do
you?”
“Listen to me real carefully, Baby. This is the drug game. Do you really think a nigga gives a fuck about you or the fact that you’re pregnant?
I done served bitches as much as 9 months pregnant. Hell, that may make it even better for them because the ultimate revenge is to hurt a
nigga’s family! I just can’t and will not risk having anything happen to you or my seed. You got it?”
“Now that you say it like that, I guess that’s true. Okay Born, I’m gonna trust your judgment on this one, but you better bring your black ass
back! I ain’t playing with you either! I can’t imagine our lives without you here! Promise me you’ll come back! Promise me!” I yelled while
pounding on his chest with my fist.
“I promise Baby. I’m not gonna leave ya’ll. We still have the rest of our lives. I’ma grow old with you, Ma. We’re gonna have more kids and be
a happy family. I got this, Ma. Just trust me!” He reached out and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly.
Hearing his voice brought joy to my ears because it meant he was now home, safe and sound. My happiness was cut short as I realized that
the yelling was coming from inside my house, not the garage. He had better be yelling at someone on the phone because he knows how I
feel about his boys being inside my house! Nigga’s don’t know how to respect shit and I’ll be damned if they’re gonna disrespect my house! I’
m tired of having to clean up after those grown assed men like they’re kids.
As I approached the front door, I shifted the bags to enable me to free one arm to locate my house keys to open the door. I could still hear
Born yelling at the top of his lungs like he was crazy. I froze in place, letting the bags slide slowly down my arms onto the ground as quietly as
possible and placed my ear to the door. I still couldn’t determine if he was talking on the phone or if someone was in the house with him. As
I listened I could tell that Born was pausing in the midst of his yelling and I don’t hear a voice responding so I assume he’s on the phone.
I decided to enter the house so I reached into my pocketbook and pulled out my house keys. I keep them on a different key ring from my
car keys so that I don’t mess up my ignition with the weight of extra keys. I took my time sliding my house keys in the door. I turned the
lock very slowly so that Born wouldn’t hear me coming in. I eased the door open. Then I reached down, picked up my bags, stepped into
the house and set the bags down by the front door. I turned around, gently removed my keys from the door and placed them quietly back
inside my purse. I slowly placed my left hand on the back of the door and my right hand on the door knob gently pushing the door closed
and twisting the knob to secure it in place. I finished by locking the deadbolt lock. I was taking every precaution to ensure that Born would
not hear me entering. I walked over to the living room entrance and stuck my head around the corner of the foyer wall to see where Born
was. There he was, standing in our living room pacing back and forth like a caged animal.
“So what are you trying to say to me?” Born asked the person on the phone. He paused, awaiting a response.
Born must not have liked the person’s response because he pulled his cell phone from his ear, looked at it, and turned the receiver towards
his mouth and yelled, “THEN GET AT ME!” He slammed the flip top shut and threw the phone onto the nearby table in the living room. He
looked up and jumped as if I had startled him. Based on the expression on his face I assume he realized I heard some of his conversation.
“What’s wrong Baby?” I inquired while trying to delay running to the bathroom to empty my bladder. If you’ve ever been pregnant, you’ll
know that’s almost impossible to do.
“Everything is alright.” He replied with a slight bit of an attitude.
“Don’t get funky with me.” I retorted.
“It’s not you Baby, it’s this mother fucking dude. Never mind, it’s nothing.” He tried to shrug it off but I knew that whoever he had been
speaking to on the phone had gotten under his skin and he was clearly pissed off.
“That didn’t sound like everything is alright.” I pressed him. His facial expression changed. He appeared to be trying to stay calm in front of
me. I knew he wanted to blow his top but he continued to keep his cool. I guess he was considering the fact that I’m five months pregnant
and doesn’t want to get me or the baby upset. I know he doesn’t think I’m stupid enough to believe him, after what I just heard.
“It’s nothing, Baby Girl, just finish doing what you were doing.” He coaxed as he walked over to me and kissed my forehead. He began to rub
my stomach then looked around me to all of my bags that were still sitting on the floor near the front door. He walked over to the bags,
bent over slightly, opened them and began moving items aside.
“Did you bring me anything?” He asked me as he looked back over his shoulder at me.
“That’s what I should be asking you. You’re the one coming back from New York.”
“Yeah but I was up there for business.”
“Is there something that you need?” I asked him.
“Nah, I just wanted to see if you thought about me enough to buy me something that’s all.”
“Well no I didn’t get you anything, shit I didn’t get myself anything either. All of this is for the baby, do you want to see?” I picked the bags
up to show him what I had bought.
“How did you buy stuff for the baby when we don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl?”
“I chose neutral colors, yellow and green, which either a boy or a girl can wear.”
“Okay, I got you.” He said as he walked past me into our bedroom and sat on the edge of our bed. I followed him. He reached over to his
dresser drawer, pulled out the top left drawer and pulled his twin nickel plated 9 mm Springfield guns out. He then reached into the same
drawer again and pulled out a box of bullets and a pair of black leather gloves.
“What are those for?” I asked as I sat on the bed next to him. I placed the shopping bags down on my side and watched him put the
leather gloves on one hand at a time. He then began to load the clips for those damn guns. I know there is about to be trouble when he
has to take those damn things out. I also know that his next move will be to call Marcel’s ass up and both of them are going to hit the
streets like two fools.
“Listen, we can’t have this shit.” I said after I had sat there for a moment. I lay back on the bed to stretch my body out in order to loosen
my pants in attempt to remove some of the pressure off of my bladder.
“I don’t have time to discuss this, Baby.” He got up, sucked his teeth and placed both of the nines on top of his dresser, fully loaded. He
walked into the bedroom closet, moved a few things around and retrieved his sawed-off 12 gauge Maverick Mossberg shotgun that had been
stashed in the house for me.
“Oh my God!” I gasped.
He reached inside the closet again and pulled out a duffle bag. He dug inside the bag and pulled out the Tommy gun drum for the shot gun
and connected it to the bottom. He then grabbed another gun out of the bag. I’ve never seen this gun before.
“What is that?” I asked with a look of astonishment on my face.
“Oh, this thing? This is my new toy. It’s a Mack 10 and it holds 32 in the clip.” He replied as he pulled it out into full view, examined it, and
showed me its clip. He then pulled an extra clip out that appeared to be empty.
“Who did you get it from?” I asked trying to find out which one of his no-good friends had sold that damn thing to him.
“You don’t know him.” He walked back towards me and laid both of the guns on the bed next to me. He walked back over to the dresser,
reached down and picked up one of the nines and tucked it in the front of his pants under his shirt. He picked the second nine up and
tucked it in his lower back pants, under his shirt.
“Is this the reason you were just beefing on the phone?” I asked as I grabbed the new Mack 10 gun.
“Hell no, you know I don’t sell guns. I fuck’s with product.” He gently snatched the gun out of my hand as if I didn’t know how to hold it
right.
“Then why do you need that damn thing or those you just put under your shirt?”
“Just to make sure I’m covered.” He said arrogantly.
“REMEMBER, I’m having your child!” I barked in terror.
“I know you are! Why do you find the need to keep telling me that?”
“Because you act like you don’t have a care in the world.”
“Baby you know I care.” He said as he pulled me to my feet and into his arms.
“Then start acting like you care.” I pulled away and left him standing there looking lost.
“That fuckin’ dude, Kenny, said my work isn’t the work he gave me to hold for him.” Born explained in a hostile tone. I guess my pulling away
from him like I did made him want to discuss what was going on.
“Don’t you mean to sell for him?” I asked with sarcasm.
“I don’t sell for no one anymore. He asked me to cook it up for him and he was going to look out on a package coming my way from his
connect.”
“And why didn’t he cook it up himself?”
“All of his spots are hot. The cops are watching them.”
“And you don’t think that they know you’re doing this for him?”
“Nah, we never meet face to face. He always leaves his work in a hideout and I have one of my guys go by and get it. After it’s all done, my
guy turns around and has one of Kenny’s bitches meet him for lunch or dinner and they give it to her.”
“And you don’t think the cops know that by now?” I asked him looking at him like he was stupid.
“Whatever.” He looked at me as if to say it wasn’t the time to be a smart ass.
“What makes him think it’s not the same stuff?” I asked him out of curiosity, getting back to the root of the problem.
“A crackhead that he used to sell to saw him and told him that the shit he bought from him last time was weak as hell and that he’s going to
take his business elsewhere. In order to keep his business, Kenny gave the nigga some shit for free.
“So what does that mean?”
“It means that nigga Kenny had to take an ‘L’ on the sale to avoid losing a customer and avoiding bad business. Now he has to build up his
credibility again if he wants to keep his clientele; because there had to be other customers that felt the same way. It also means it’s on and
popping because he has to show the streets that he’s going to get at whoever tried to fuck him on his package.” Born said as he walked
over to the bed, picked up the shottie, and racked the slide open. I saw one of the cartridges load right in from the drum.
“What are you talking about?” I was confused. “What do you have to do with it?”
“Baby, he’s trying to say that when I was cooking up the dope for him that I was stretching the work to make some extra money off the
top.” He grumbled while searching for extra bullets to load the other Mack 10 gun clip.
“So, what does that mean?” I asked again and waited for a clear answer. I felt the need to get more details from him.
“It means that I have to go and see that dude before he comes to see me first. As a matter of fact…” He continued to vigorously search in
his top dresser drawer.
“As a matter-of-fact, what?” I wanted to know what else he had planned for tonight.
“Ah, here it is!” He yelled as he snapped whatever it was into place and put it into his pocket quickly. He glanced over his shoulder at me to
see if I had seen what he had done. I sat back down on the bed and watched him.
“What is that?” I snapped at him as I leaned to the right on the bed to see if I could see around him to view what he had placed in his
pocket.
“Nothing.” He answered a little too quickly. I felt like he was trying to keep me from repeating the question, but that wouldn’t work. I’m
damn sure going to ask him again. He knows better than that. He knows I’m not one of those chicks where their man tells them nothing is
going on and they leave it alone.
“What the fuck did you just snatch out of there and throw in your pocket?” I asked in an elevated voice and with a stern look on my face. I
strained to see the outline of his pants pocket while waiting for him to respond.
If he didn’t respond quickly I would get up and try to search his pocket myself. I really was not in the mood to play. It was clear that danger
was lurking in the shadows.
“It’s this!” Born put his hand in his pocket and removed a 24 kart gold, diamond cut cross. He had told me, when we first met, that his
mother had given him that cross just after his father was murdered. It really meant a lot to him.
At that exact moment, I realized that his father was wearing that same cross when he was murdered. Actually, when the police had gotten
to the scene of his murder, they said his father was clenching it in his bloody hand. The cops said he must have snatched it off himself. They
speculated he had done it so that whoever had shot him wouldn’t take it. Come to think of it, his father was murdered doing the same thing
that Born was about to do! He was trying to prove himself. Like father, like son.
“So, what are you telling me? That you want me to wait around to receive a call telling me that you’re dead?” I asked with fear and a
trembling voice. Tears began to form in the corners of my eyes.
“Nah Ma. You’re not going to be waiting for anything, because you’re leaving.” Born replied, He turned around and began to dig further into
his drawer. He was no longer searching the top drawer. He had closed that drawer, knelt down and had opened the bottom drawer; which
was much deeper.
“I’m telling you right now I don’t do prison visits, Born!”
“Good, because I don’t do prisons stays.” He was full of confidence. He was still searching his drawer. I was becoming very agitated that he
could be getting so nonchalant about the whole thing. I felt like he was ignoring me. He wasn’t even looking at me. He was still digging in
that damn drawer.
“Oh, do you have some more surprises for me in that fucking drawer?” I was clearly pissed off. I was trying to hold back my tears so that he
wouldn’t see how upset I had become. I must admit that he has tried not to upset me during this entire pregnancy.
After finding what he was looking for, he answered, “It’s not a surprise if you already knew I had this in here.” He then held up a wad of
cash.
I became even more terrified. “What is that for, Born?” I asked. I was about to go into shock for real. I know danger is involved when a
nigga goes into his stash! Why would he go into his stash if he was positive he was coming back? That makes me feel that he’s uncertain
whether he’ll be returning or not.
I had to come up with a plan to make him stay home with me so I acted as if my stomach had begun to hurt. I faked labor pains.
“Oh my God!” I screamed while holding my stomach and folding over sliding to the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Born quickly jumped up and came over to me truly concerned. He helped me up and onto the bed to sit down.
“I think it’s time.” I said. When I looked into his eyes, he was staring right back into mine. I must have done a terrible job because he smiled
at me and said, “Nice try Baby Girl.”
I guess it was easy for him to tell I was lying because I don’t lie to him. I’m actually a terrible liar. He saw right through my bullshit.
“I’m serious Born.” I continued with the charade trying my hardest to sound as if I was in excruciating pain. He just started laughing at me,
walked back over to the drawer and grabbed the money again.
While handing the cash to me, he said, “Here, this is for you. I want you to call my man, Marcel, when I leave and tell him I said for him to
come get you. Then I want you to pack a few bags because you’re getting out of here. Marcel will know what to do.”
“And just where is Marcel supposed to take me?” I managed to ask while Born was counting out loud.
“That’s 1, that’s 2, that’s 3, and that’s 4 thousand dollars.” Born laid the cash in my hand. There were forty one hundred dollar bills in four
stacks of ten bills each.
“Born, please tell me where he’s taking me to!” I pleaded.
“No. You don’t need to know all of that yet. That’s my man, Ma. He’s gonna take good care of you and my baby. I trust him with my life so
you know I trust him with yours and the baby’s. I won’t allow anything to happen to ya’ll. Just do as I ask, Ma.”
Born reached under our king-sized sleigh bed and pulled out my largest suitcase. He stood up, placed it on the bed, unzipped and opened it.
He lifted his head and looked me dead in my eyes.
“Please Born, don’t do this to us.” I pleaded while referring to our unborn child. I began to rub my stomach, embracing my child as if to shield
him from this chaos that was going on.
“I’m not doing anything to ya’ll. I would never do anything to hurt either of you. You have to trust me on this.” Born tried to calm me while
rubbing my stomach. He leaned down and kissed it in an attempt to reassure me that everything would be alright.
“Born, if I stay here with you, everything will be okay. Nothing will go down. I don’t believe they will do anything to a pregnant woman. Do
you?”
“Listen to me real carefully, Baby. This is the drug game. Do you really think a nigga gives a fuck about you or the fact that you’re pregnant?
I done served bitches as much as 9 months pregnant. Hell, that may make it even better for them because the ultimate revenge is to hurt a
nigga’s family! I just can’t and will not risk having anything happen to you or my seed. You got it?”
“Now that you say it like that, I guess that’s true. Okay Born, I’m gonna trust your judgment on this one, but you better bring your black ass
back! I ain’t playing with you either! I can’t imagine our lives without you here! Promise me you’ll come back! Promise me!” I yelled while
pounding on his chest with my fist.
“I promise Baby. I’m not gonna leave ya’ll. We still have the rest of our lives. I’ma grow old with you, Ma. We’re gonna have more kids and be
a happy family. I got this, Ma. Just trust me!” He reached out and pulled me into his arms, hugging me tightly.
| Chapters 2- Be About It |
The Author S. C. Dickens
Street Team
| Didn't See This Coming |
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