Falling for My Side Dude

by Racquel Williams

  “Yo, you can let me out here.”

  She pulled over. I got out of the car without saying a word to her. Before I could hit the sidewalk, she pulled off, leaving the stench of burning tires.

  I peeped that Tania’s car was parked in the garage. That infuriated me more. This bitch was in the house, chilling, and I had to beg for a fucking ride. I didn’t have my keys, so I banged on the door.

  “Who is it?” she answered with an attitude.

  “Yo, open the motherfucking door.”

  She did. I stepped past that bitch.

  “Daddy is here,” my baby girl screamed and jumped on me.

  I cringed as her weight caused me to buckle a little. “Hey, baby girl.” I grabbed her up even though the pain was unbearable.

  My son then ran to me also.

  “Y’all let Daddy sit down really quick.”

  “Daddy, I’m so happy you’re home,” Kymani said. This little man was the spitting image of me. He was my firstborn and the reason why I went so hard in these streets.

  “Daddy, please don’t leave us anymore,” my daughter said as she squeezed me a little too tight.

  “Baby girl, your daddy got you. Believe that!” I kissed the top of her head. I was so caught up with my kids that I didn’t have any time to pay their mama any mind. I did notice that, when she walked past me, she shot me a dirty look.

  After I played with them for a few, they ran off to go back to whatever they were doing. I got up and walked toward the bedroom. I closed the bedroom door because I knew it was going to get heated, and I didn’t want my kids to hear any of it.

  “Yo, why you ain’t pick me up?”

  “Boy, get out of my face! I told yo’ ass, it’s over. You must think I’m fucking playing, huh?”

  “Really? That’s how you goin’ to carry a nigga when a nigga’s down on his face?”

  “Carry you? I’ve been there, booboo. I was the one who gave you money to get on your feet. I was the one who sat in the bathroom and washed your dirty drawers and your heavy-ass jeans because we were too broke to afford money to go to the Laundromat. I slept on the hard-ass floor with you when we only had one bed and the kids were on it. I was the one, Javon, not these other bitches. But who did you give your ass to kiss once you started making money? That’s right. Me.”

  I stood there frozen as she spit out the times when we were struggling. I saw the tears flowing down her face, and her eyes said it all. I swear, I was a killer and I could deal with the streets, but Tania had my heart, and I hated to sit back and watch her hurt like this.

  Over the years, I didn’t think I was really doing any damage to our relationship because I busted my ass pulling all-nighters just so I could move them out of the hood. I did that. I bought her cars, made sure she had money to spend, but I spent less time with her.

  I didn’t know my parents because both of them motherfuckers were no good. My mother’s mother raised me, and she did the best she could, which was almost nothing. Many days I went without food because she had to pay for rent, and the rest went to her medicine. That’s when I turned to the streets, and the rest was history. I made a vow never to let my family go without, as long as I was breathing.

  “Man, come here. Stop crying.” I walked to her side of the bed and wrapped my arms around her.

  “No, I don’t want hugs. I don’t want empty promises! I’m tired of all of this. You just going around, slinging your dick all over the place.” She pushed me away.

  “I’m not slingin’ anything. Lemme talk to you real quick.” I sat down beside her. Any other time, I would’ve thought that she was bullshitting, but not this time. I saw the seriousness in her face, and I knew she was done. I had to do something fast.

  I tried to hold her hand, but she wasn’t having that. I decided to stop forcing it. “Listen, boo. I know I fucked up. I know I put you through a lot of shit.” I paused. I was trying to say the right shit, but I didn’t want to sound like a bitch.

  The sounds of gunshots interrupted my speech. I jumped to my feet to see where the fuck it was coming from, because it sounded too close for comfort. “Shhh. I think it’s in here,” I tried to tell her while I tiptoed to the closet to grab my gun I’d always kept in the closet. I didn’t see it, so I turned around to ask her where she put my gun, but she was no longer in the room.

  “I’ve got to get my babies! Noooo! My babies. Noooooooo!” I heard her screaming. I heard another round of gunshots. I opened the drawers; my gun wasn’t there. I dug under the mattress and there it was. I grabbed it, checked for bullets, and ran out the door, busting. A masked gunman saw me, returned fire, and then ran out the door. My adrenaline was rushing as I chased after him, busting my gun. I was too late, though; he jumped into a dark Suburban truck similar to the one that pulled up the night I was shot.

  I stood there. That’s when it hit me that I needed to go check on my family! I saw Tania on the floor. I ran to her, but my legs would barely carry me. I fell down to my knees as I witnessed my bitch shot on the ground. I got up, turned around, and yelled for my children. “Jayel and Kymani.” I ran into their rooms, yelling as my heart dropped. Their lifeless, gunshot-riddled bodies were sprawled across the bed. I collapsed on top of them.

  “Aarggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Aarghhhhhhhhhhhhh.” I touched my little man’s body, but I could tell he wasn’t breathing. I then touched my daughter, and she was also gone.

  I lay there, holding them close. I was afraid to move. I can’t leave them alone. I just can’t!

  * * *

  Malaya

  When someone shows you who they are the first time, it’s best you believe them. This wasn’t the first time this nigga showed me his weak side, but he definitely grabbed my attention earlier when I was driving him home. I heard the weakness in his voice as he called himself threatening my girls and me. I didn’t take it lightly at all.

  I was happy when I dropped him off because I needed time to myself. He was a weak link that I needed to go away for good. There’s no way I was going to let him keep holding me hostage. He never actually came out and said it, but I knew that he was referring to Trent’s death. Some people said, “Pressure bursts pipes,” and he was one pipe I believed was going to burst real soon. I had to figure something out and very soon.

  I remembered when I first met him. He made my insides shiver, and whenever we made love, I got the best feeling ever. His dick was good, but I was so over that. I knew we could never be because he wasn’t honest at first; plus, his ass was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off. I had to cut him loose after this case was over with because he had become a liability, and I couldn’t risk him bringing me down with him.

  After dinner, I decide to take a long shower. I rubbed my hand across my breasts as the water poured down on my body. I wished I had a man to massage the kinks out of them. I inserted my finger inside of me as I envisioned getting fucked. I ground harder as I climaxed. Pussy juice ran down my legs. I used my finger to wipe it up and then licked it off. Who needs a man when I can fuck myself? I got out of the tub and dried myself off.

  I was just about to rub lotion over my body when my cell phone started ringing. Whoever that was needed to wait, but I guessed that wasn’t an option because the phone continued ringing nonstop! I grabbed the phone off the bed. I noticed it was Mr. District Attorney himself. I smiled. Let me find out he wanted some of this good pussy.

  “Hello,” I answered in my sexy voice.

  “Malaya, where have you been? There has been a murder at your client Javon Sanders’s house.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? I just dropped him off at home about two hours ago!”

  “It’s the worst murder scene I’ve ever seen. His children and his girlfriend are dead. It’s a massacre in here.”

  “Is he alive?”

  “Yes. He is being questioned by our detectives. I think you should get down here ASAP.”

  “Stop the questioning until I get there,” I demanded.
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  I hung up the phone and took a seat on the bed. I kind of wanted this to turn out a different way. I would’ve felt much better if I’d gotten the call that he was dead. Yes, I knew it sounded cold but, shit, at least I wouldn’t have to worry ’bout him running his mouth about Trent’s death!

  I let out a long sigh. I might as well get dressed and go down there to see what kind of shit he done gotten his ass into now. I threw on some sweatpants, a top, and a pair of sneakers. I grabbed my cell phone and headed out the door.

  When I pulled up at the address that I dropped him off at, police cars were everywhere. I pulled to the side of someone else’s driveway and parked. “Ma’am, you can’t go through there. This is a crime scene,” a uniformed officer said to me.

  “She’s cleared,” Devon said.

  I walked underneath the crime tape. “What the hell happened here?” I put my hand akimbo.

  “Your client is over there.”

  “All right, thanks.”

  I walked up the steps of the two-story brick house. I took a deep breath and walked over to where Javon was sitting down with his head buried in his lap. I touched his shoulder, which startled him. “Hey.” I sat down beside him.

  “Man, these niggas killed my babies. They killed my motherfucking babies. They should’ve killed me.” He broke down crying.

  I could hear the grief in his cries and, as bad as I tried, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. I wanted to find out what happened, but he was in no shape to talk. I rubbed his back and then got up. I walked over to the detectives and Devon. “Do you all know what happened here? I tried talking to Mr. Sanders, but he’s too distraught right now.”

  “From what we gathered from Sanders and the neighbors, a dark Suburban pulled up, and two masked gunmen jumped out and started shooting up the house. One entered the house while the other one went around the back. Your client was the only one not killed. So that is kind of fishy to me.” The uniformed officer chuckled.

  “Where is your heart at? This man just witnessed his family being gunned down, and you’re sitting here, laughing. I’m taking my client away from here, but here is my card. If you all have any questions for him, please don’t hesitate to call.” I handed the cop one of my cards.

  “Damn, somebody has their panties in a bunch.”

  “Officer Spencer, that’s enough,” Devon said.

  “Well, thank you, because I was just about to dig into his faggot ass,” I said and walked off. I hated when a punk tried to show off for his peers.

  I breathed hard and walked over to where Javon was holding his head. “Listen, do you have anyone you want me to call for you? You need to get out of here.” I was trying to get him away from the scene before the coroner showed up.

  “Nah, I can’t leave my babies. Plus, I ain’t got nowhere to go. This is my life,” he managed to say between sobs.

  I grabbed his arm. “Listen to me; you need to get out of here. You can’t help them; they’re gone. You have to worry about yourself, and you know the police are already looking at you.”

  “Looking at me for what? They think I had something to do with this? What kind of evil nigga do they think I am?” he said while snot rolled down his nose.

  “Calm your voice down! Let’s go. I already told them to contact me if they needed to talk to you.” I walked off with him following closely behind me. “I’m parked over here.”

  “Malaya! Malaya!” I heard Devon hollering my name.

  “Yes, what’s up?” I stopped and turned around to face him.

  “Be careful with that guy! I know you’re only trying to help, but he’s a cold-blooded killer, and I’m not sure that he’s not the one who set this up.”

  “Thanks for being concerned, but I’m a big girl, and I can protect myself.”

  “What the fuck was he saying to you? Why do you seem so mushy wit’ that nigga? Ain’t that the same nigga who’s trying to send a nigga away?” Javon said in an angry tone.

  “I’ve worked alongside District Attorney Williams for years and, yes, he is the prosecutor on your case.” I wasn’t going to sit here getting interrogated by this nigga. This was probably a mistake. Maybe I should’ve just left his ass here.

  I got in the car and backed out. His eyes were bloodshot, and he just kept staring out into space. His body was in the car, but his mind was definitely far away.

  “Where do you want me to drop you?”

  “Take me to the south side. I need to see my old head.”

  “Your old head? Is that your father?”

  “Nah. Don’t worry ’bout all that.”

  He had a smart mouth for somebody who needed help. I cut the music up because I was one second away from telling this nigga to get out of my car.

  “Let me ask you something. How much money do you need to get the hell out of my life?”

  “Man, fuck you, B. You think I want money? I want you to get me off these fucking charges. That’s what the fuck I want,” he yelled.

  “Well, I don’t control the courts, so I can only do my best.”

  “Hmm. Well, you better make sure your best gets me off.”

  “You know, the more you open your mouth, the more I realize what a bitch-ass nigga you are.” After that, I cut the music all the way up! I was fucking done with him and his fucking case!

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Javon

  Many days I went without food when I was growing up. Shit, I ain’t had anyone to love me as a child because Mama was a whore and Daddy, well, I never met the buster. With that said, I was no stranger to pain. But it ripped my soul out seeing my own flesh and blood lying there lifeless and there wasn’t shit I could do to bring them back! My daughter and my son were gone. These niggas could’ve killed me instead. Shit, I would’ve lain down, happily, if it would’ve spared my babies’ lives. I took my phone out and scrolled through their pictures. Tears welled up as a sharp pain ripped through my chest. I fell to the ground, holding my chest.

  “Nooooooooooooooo! Noooooooooooooo! God, please take me. Please, God,” I pleaded. There was no way I could go on without my babies. I thought I was dying; that’s how much I was hurting. I was ready to join my babies.

  * * *

  The constant ringing of my cell phone had me feeling tight. I didn’t want to rap with anyone. I got up off of the carpeted floor. I looked around. I was in a familiar place, just wasn’t too sure where I was. To be honest, I didn’t remember how I even got here. My dead kids’ faces were so clear in my head. The blood, my li’l man’s eyes popped open, all of it. For the first time since their death, I also remembered their mother. I didn’t care how much we fought; she was my ride or die. I failed to protect her and my kids. Their blood was on my hands. Oh, my God!

  “You woke?” A voice startled me.

  I jumped up. I was face to face with my old head, Abraham. “Yeah, I was just—”

  “No explanation needed, young blood. Here. Have some of this.” He handed me a big rolled blunt.

  I snatched it out of his hand and followed him out of the room. “I ’ppreciate it, but I need something stronger than this. I know you got sump’n.”

  “Sit down.”

  He grabbed a bottle of Jamaican overproof white rum and poured a glass. I’d never had it before, but I’d heard from a few Jamaican friends that this shit was nothing but the truth. I grabbed the glass and took a big gulp. I started coughing uncontrollably as the liquor stung my throat. I spit that shit out! “Man, what the fuck? You tryin’a kill me?”

  “You said you wanted something strong, so I gave you something strong.”

  “Man, that shit is nasty.”

  “You’re still a baby, young blood.” He chuckled.

  I could see he was enjoying himself at my expense. He had no idea how I was feeling right now. Joking around was the last thing on my mind.

  “Loosen up. I know you’re hurting for your offspring.”

  “Yo, these niggas killed my babies, Abraham.”

&n
bsp; “Did you see their faces?”

  “Nah, but I do know they were the same niggas who tried to kill me.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “The same vehicle. I’m sure of that. I was this close to the nigga, and I didn’t kill him.”

  “I think somebody has a personal beef with you.”

  I took a pull of the high-grade weed and passed the blunt to him. “That’s what’s killing me, though. If a nigga got beef wit’ me, they need to come see me. Instead, they’re playing pussy and shit. I can’t beef wit’ a nigga if I don’t know who I’m beefing wit’.”

  He sat there, quiet, smoking and looking in space. “I told you before that your closest enemy could be your best friend, and your best friend can become your worst enemy.”

  I sat there, pondering the knowledge he was spitting. I wasn’t in the mood for no proverbs, but I knew there was a lesson in everything he spoke. He rolled another blunt, and we smoked some more.

  “What are your plans? How are you gonna move on from this?”

  “I can’t even think straight. First, I’ma bury my little soldiers, and then I’m going to declare war on the whole motherfucking city. Somebody knows who these niggas are, and they’re gonna talk real soon.”

  “Don’t be foolish! An angry man makes unwise decisions. Calm your nerves, sort out the situation, and then go in for the kill.”

  “No disrespect, ol’ G, but I don’t even give a fuck for real. I lost everything that mattered to me in this world. I’m a dead man walking.”

  “You lost almost e’erything!”

  “What do you mean? My bitch and my kids are gone. I ain’t got no other family.” My eyes started to gather water.

  “But you still have your old man.”

  “What you mean? My old man?” I stood up.

  He looked at me and then smiled. He tried to pass me the blunt.

  “Nah, fuck that. Answer me. What the fuck you mean by that?” I slapped his hand away.

  “Young blood, I’m your daddy—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, I punched him in the jaw, knocking the blunt out of his mouth.