I hung up and then dialed his number. A few hours ago, it was going to voicemail. Now, it was saying disconnected also. I shook my head in disgust. Something in me told me that shit was wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on it, though.
* * *
Malaya
I pulled Myesha’s ass to the side as soon as we got home.
“What are you doing?” she said as I tightened my grip on her arm.
“Sit down and shut up.” I shoved her ass down on her bed. “What is your fucking problem? Your grandma told me what you were over there saying.”
“I don’t care what Grandma told you. It’s the truth!”
“You little bitch! How dare you run over there and tell them some shit about me. You know that old bitch doesn’t like me.”
“You run around here acting like you’re mourning Daddy’s death, but it’s all for show. You don’t miss him.”
I looked at her evil ass and thought about strangling her ass, but regardless of how much I despised her right now, she was my child. I looked at her and shook my head. Six more years and I want her out of my house and out of my damn life, I thought before I walked out of the room.
After burying Trent, I decided to go through the house and put all his things together. I was nice enough to hit his mother up to see if she wanted her son’s belongings.
“Hello. I’m going through your son’s things, and I wanted to know if you wanted his things?”
“You have some nerve calling my damn phone. You can’t pack his things up; he’s barely in the ground.”
“Listen, woman, I’m sick of your ass already. Either you get this damn shit, or I will donate it to the homeless shelter.”
“I told my son not to marry your ass. Oh, Lord, I wish he’d listened to me.”
“I’m losing my patience with your ass. None of that shit matters. He’s dead now, so he won’t be with anybody. I’m done dealing with you. You will be hearing from my lawyer with regard to the few dollars he left you.”
“Go to hell. You won’t be around to spend a dime of my son’s money. You will be locked away in a prison cell,” she spat.
I’d had it with this old, disgruntled bitch, so I hung the phone up. I should’ve had her ass killed too because Lord knows she was riding my damn nerves.
I continued throwing all of his belongings in a bag. It wasn’t that much because after I bleached all of his clothes he never got around to replacing his wardrobe. When I was finished, I called the Salvation Army. Fuck that ungrateful bitch. She ain’t getting shit.
I packed up my things and called the movers. I was putting my belongings in storage until I decided what I wanted to do. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to buy a new house or move to Maryland, closer to my family. It would look kind of suspicious if I just up and left, so I decided to hang around.
I decide to move to a house that Trent and I owned; it was smaller, and it wasn’t something that I had plan on living in. It was more of an investment property. I took one last look around; I used to love this house. This was my home, but after everything that I endured in here, it was like prison now. Oh, well, time to move on, I thought as I walked out the door. I would call the cleaning crew so they could come out and clean up the place. I planned on removing the carpet in the bedroom; some of Trent’s blood spilled all over my off-white carpet. This nigga was always leaving his damn mess everywhere he went. I made a mental note to contact my Realtor so he could get the house on the market as soon as possible.
* * *
My family went back home to Maryland. I was back at work, and my life was finally back to normal. I thought everything would be fine; daytime was all right but, at night, when I tried to go to sleep I couldn’t. I would fall asleep but, right after, I kept seeing Trent’s dead face. I would try to block it out, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t sad that he was dead, so why did I keep seeing his face? It was almost like he was taunting me. I would end up staying up most nights because I was scared to fall asleep.
That damn alarm clock was steadily going off, but I reached over and turned it off. I just laid my head on the pillow, and it was already going off. I needed a damn day off, but today was not the day. Javon had court tomorrow, and I needed to go over some last-minute details about his case.
Five minutes later, I dragged myself out of the bed. I looked at the time. Damn, the kids. I ran to their rooms, but they were gone. I panicked. I ran to my room and grabbed my phone to call Nyesha.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Hey, baby. Where are you?”
“I’m in school, Mama. Is something wrong?”
“No, no, I just got up, and I didn’t see you or your sister.”
“I came in your room, but were you sleeping. I decided not to wake you up. I know you’ve been having difficulty sleeping.”
“Okay, baby. Did you eat?”
“Mama, I’m twelve now. I can take care of myself, and yes, I ate, and Myesha ate.”
“Okay, baby. I love you. See you later.”
“All right, Mama. Love you too.”
I knew that they were growing up, but I still felt the need to make sure they were well taken care of. My girls were my life, even though Myesha’s ass was difficult to deal with lately. My love for her had not changed. I would have to love her from a distance.
* * *
After battling Richmond’s rush-hour traffic, I finally made it into the office. I quickly parked and hurried inside. This was one of those days when I wished I didn’t have to work.
“Good morning, Dana,” I said and walked into my office. I didn’t mean to be short with her this morning, but I was dead-ass tired.
Before I could even settle in my seat, I heard Dana knocking. “Yes, Dana. Come in,” I said with slight irritation in my voice. I looked at her as she entered my office.
“Good morning. Damn, you all right?” she said as she walked over to the window and opened up the blinds.
“I’m just tired. I barely get any sleep at night,” I confessed.
“To be honest, you look like hell. How long has this been going on?”
“Ever since Trent’s death. I just can’t sleep. I just think I’m burned out.”
“I’m worried about you. You seem more than tired. You’re fatigued, and you look thinner, like you’re not eating also. Trent is gone, but you need to take care of you because the girls need you.”
“I know, but I am the only one they have right now, and I can’t lie down and die.”
“Ain’t nobody saying that you need to lie down and die. Malaya, you have money; you don’t need to work as hard as you do. You can take a week or so off. This office will still be here when you get back.”
“I know. I just have this case, and he is counting on me so much. I can’t let him down. His freedom is on the line.”
“I understand all that, but Malaya won’t be of any help to anyone if she is not healthy mentally and physically. I have a doctor friend; I want you to go see her. She can help you with what you’re dealing with.”
“I hope she ain’t no damn shrink. I don’t need anybody trying to analyze me.” I shot her a dirty look.
“I’m about to get the number. You need to call her and set up an appointment.” She walked out of the office.
Maybe she was right. I didn’t tell her the full story because it wasn’t her business. I did need something to help me sleep. I felt like if I continued like this, I was going to lose my sanity.
I made an appointment to see the psychiatrist the next afternoon. Maybe she could prescribe something that could calm my nerves and put me to sleep at night.
* * *
After talking to the doctor and letting her know what I was going through, she prescribed a low dosage of Ambien, which would help me sleep at night. I was happy because I felt like a zombie walking around.
* * *
Javon
The last few days were spent in a daze. It was like the world was closing in on me. I had no one to turn to and nowhere to
hide. All the good I did for motherfuckers, you’d think they’d remember it, but they didn’t. I was alone. Tania was too busy worrying about the next bitch; and Malaya, shit, she was too worried that the police might be watching us, so she didn’t want to meet up unless it was at the office. I felt like that bitch used me to kill her husband, and now she was acting brand new.
I sipped some more of my Cîroc and took a few more drags of my weed. I sat back on the steps of this abandoned building. I usually came here when I wanted to clear my mind. I really thought this shit was going to disappear, but the closer I got to the court date, reality set in. I was also hurting for my little niggas, Li’l Trigger and Sword Man. Them niggas were nothing but twenty and twenty-one. I ain’t goin’ to lie; they were young as fuck. Now that I looked back, I should’ve never let them join the crew. All the regrets and what-ifs didn’t matter because it was too late for all that.
I peeped a dark Suburban truck inching toward where I was sitting. At first, I didn’t think anything of it, but the closer the vehicle got, the more something appeared to be wrong. I saw the back window slowly going down. I reached for my Glock, but it was too late.
Brap! Brap! Brap! I got hit in my chest. I got up and ran to the side, trying to fire back. They sped off down the street. I started to feel hot, and I was dizzy. I touched my chest and noticed blood was everywhere. I was losing consciousness, but I was determined not to die.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out my phone. I thought about calling 911 but, fuck, I had my gun with me. I took a quick glance around, and I barely wiped the gun with my shirt. I saw a little hole by the side of the building. I stuck the gun down in there. Blood was everywhere, and I was weak as fuck. I dialed 911.
“911, how may I help you?”
“I’ve been shot. I’m at 602 North Thirty-second Street.”
“What’s your name, sir?”
“Javon Sanders,” I said before I collapsed to the ground.
* * *
Malaya
Javon was supposed to meet up with me to discuss his case, but he never showed up. I called his phone numerous times, but it just rang out. This was so not like him. Even though we had our personal issues, he was always on point when it came down to handling business.
After numerous times of trying his number, I started to panic. His court date was tomorrow, so where was my client at? I sure hoped this boy didn’t do anything stupid like run. Maybe it was nothing. I waited for another hour, and he still hadn’t shown up. I sent out two texts to him.
“Dana, has Mr. Sanders canceled his appointment?”
“Not that I know of. I thought you talked to him, since he is bae.” She giggled.
“Girl, you are a mess but, no, I haven’t spoken to him. I’m worried; this is so not like him.”
“I’m sure he’s just tied up, handling business. He will call soon.”
“I hope so,” I said and walked back into my office.
I dialed the attorney who was representing one of his codefendants.
“Hello,” Attorney Newton answered.
“Hello, this is Mrs. Ipswich. My client, Javon Sanders, and your client, Anthony Biggins, are codefendants.”
He cut me off. “Yes, Mrs. Ipswich. How may I help you?”
“I was wondering if everything was okay with your client. I had an appointment with my client, but I can’t reach him.”
“Everything is fine with my client. He is ready to plead guilty.”
That shit caught me off guard. This was my first time hearing that he pled out. That was strange. I wondered, what did he plead to, and what deal did the state offer him?
“Okay, thanks. Sorry to bother you.” I hung up before he could respond.
I was bothered as hell. I tried to tell Javon that he should’ve taken a plea. But he was so caught up on how real he was. I swear his ass was gonna find out that these niggas ain’t loyal, and when it comes down to it, it was every man for himself.
I looked at the time; it was a little after eleven a.m. I wasn’t going to sit around waiting any longer. He knew where to find me. I knew one thing; his ass better call me before it was too late.
I cleaned up my desk, closed my computer, grabbed my briefcase, and locked my office.
“Well, I’m leaving early today. Mr. Sanders still didn’t show or call me, so I’m going home. He has court in the morning, so I’m hoping he will show up sometime soon.”
“Okay, lady, take care, and please get some rest. I’m going to send out some e-mails and do some work.”
* * *
I really missed living in a huge house. This house was okay but not like the other house. I couldn’t wait to really buy another big house. I took my clothes off, and I put on my sweats and a T-shirt. I cut the television on; I loved watching the midday news news. There were a few minor crimes and a terrible accident. I picked up my phone; I was about to send out another text when something on the television caught my attention.
“Yes, the victim is Javon Sanders. He was shot multiple times last night on the six hundred block of Thirty-second Street. If I can, I’ll give you a background on the victim. A few months ago, we did a report on him when he was arrested and charged with multiple counts of robbery, drug charges, and multiple murders. He was out on bond and was believed to be in court tomorrow to answer to these charges. The police are asking that if anyone has any information pertaining to this shooting, please contact the Richmond Police Department.”
I dropped the phone. Javon was shot last night, and I didn’t know about it. That’s when it hit me; I didn’t really know anything about this man. I’d never been to his house, and I’d never met his family. I quickly let those thoughts out of my mind. I needed to know what hospital he was in. I picked up the phone and started calling around. I was on the last one when the receptionist told me that she couldn’t give out any info on the phone. That kind of let me know that he was there. I grabbed my purse and my car keys and ran out of the house.
My mind was racing. Even though we went through so much, I still didn’t want anything to happen to him. The news didn’t say how serious he was, but I knew that if he was in the ICU, it couldn’t be anything good. I was feeling guilty for the way I treated him. “God, please let him make it,” I begged God.
After sitting there for a few, I decided to go to the hospital. I was his attorney, and I needed to know if he was going to be all right. I pulled into the hospital parking lot and quickly parked. I then got out and ran up the stairs. I didn’t have any time to sit there and wait for no damn elevator. By the time I got to the front desk, I was out of breath. “Hello, my name is Malaya Ipswich, and I’m here to visit Javon Sanders.”
“Hello. Hold on a second.” She went back to looking at her computer screen. “Can I please see your ID? Mr. Sanders is under police security, and I have to make sure you provide proper identification.”
I reached into my purse to retrieve my driver’s license. I handed it to her. I wished she would hurry the fuck up. I was eagerly waiting to see him. She finally handed my driver’s license back to me and then told me the room number. I took off running toward the escalator, my heart pumping fast. I was feeling all sorts of emotion. Part of me was hoping he was all right, and the other part, well, let’s just say it wasn’t good thoughts.
I walked up to the guard and showed him my ID. He glanced at my name and gave me the okay to enter the room. I walked in as the nurse was walking out. “Hello. How is he?”
“Are you a close relative or friend?” She looked me up and down.
“No, I’m his attorney.” I walked off on her.
I looked at him lying in the bed. He didn’t look like himself. He was hooked up to a machine. I stepped closer to him; his face was black, and he was swollen. “Hey,” I said. He was sleeping, so he couldn’t hear me. I kind of felt a little bit of pity for him because we were fucking. I stood there for another ten minutes, just making small talk. It was obvious that he wasn’t going to wake up.
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A different nurse entered the room. “Hello, there. Your friend is one lucky fella. He is in a medically induced coma. The doctors are trying to reduce the swelling in his brain. The next few days will be very critical.”
“Wow. How many times did he get shot?”
“I believe it was three times. That’s why I say he was a lucky one. I can’t begin to tell you how many others come in here with his kind of injuries, and I don’t have to tell you the rest. He’s a fighter, though,” she said before she checked his vitals and exited the room.
I stayed a few minutes later, and then I decided to leave. I gave him a kiss on the cheek, but by the time I lifted my head up, drama kicked off.
“So, you just had to show your face up in here, huh?” this little ghetto bitch said while popping gum.
“Excuse me? I don’t think it’s a crime for me to visit my client who, by the way, has court tomorrow morning.”
“Bitch, just ’cause you’ve got on a motherfucking suit doesn’t make you any more special than the rest of us bitches. You think I’m stupid; I know yo’ ass been fucking my baby daddy. But you know what, bitch? He ain’t goin’ to leave me; trust that. You were just a piece of pussy to him. He loves his children and me. You’re an old-ass bitch anyways. My daddy doesn’t want that ol’ wrinkled-ass pussy.”
“Listen, little bitch, I didn’t even want my no-good-ass husband, so why in this world would you think I want a nigga with a bunch of bebe kids and a ghetto-ass baby mama? Little girl, I’m only interested in those dollars he’s paying me to defend him. You can have the dick. Trust me, it wasn’t all that anyway.” I winked at that ho before I walked out of the room.
That bitch just bothered my fucking nerves with that bullshit. See, these younger bitches didn’t know when to shut up. I pressed the button and waited for the elevator to come up. I shouldn’t have let that bitch get me all riled up, but she was out of place. How dare she try to check me over a nigga who was sniffing up my behind like a sick puppy? Wrinkled pussy? That bitch had no idea how her baby daddy loved burying his head deep into this pussy. “Ha-ha, silly bitch.” I burst out laughing.
Falling for My Side Dude Page 10