“Because Orlando…” I started and paused. A tear was falling down my cheek. I hated fighting with Orlando but I just couldn’t deal with this anymore. Not now.
“Terielle what is it?” he asked as he wiped the tear off of my face.
“I’m pregnant.” I breathed and looked away. He sighed and looked out the window. We sat like that for a while. Neither one of us had anything to say. I wondered if having a baby would finally take him away from the streets. He started the car and started driving. I could tell he was tense. A million thoughts were going through his head right now and it made me wonder exactly what he was thinking. His hand tightened on the steering wheel and I felt the car speeding up. I wanted to warn him but I was afraid he would blow up at me. He kept speeding up so I knew I had to say something and just as I was about to he breathed out heavily and slowed down.
Once we got to the house he didn’t move. He just sat there and stared out the windshield. I unbuckled my seatbelt and started to get out the car.
“I can’t let it go right now. There’s too much money to be made. The choice is yours accept me as I am or I’m out.” He said
I was pissed. He picked the streets over me and our child! He wouldn’t even leave his lifestyle to help me raise his own. I got out of the car and slammed the door to the car. Tears were rolling down my face and he drove off. I couldn’t believe him. I went inside of the house and slammed the door behind me.
Nine.
I got up the next morning and threw all off Orlando’s stuff out of the house. I didn’t even bother packing it up for him. All of his clothes, shoes, personal items, jewelry, everything was on the ground in front of the house when I left the house for work. I also had the locks changed and any money he had stashed in the house was now sitting pretty in my bank account. I couldn’t believe he left me to raise his child by myself because he wants to continue living his street life.
At work, I could hardly focus. I had a million thoughts running through my head. What was I going to do with this baby on my own? Did I move too fast? What made me think I could change him? Did I make the wrong decision?
My phone rang and I looked at the caller id to see who it was. It was Orlando. I ignored the call and put my phone on silent. He called two more times and then left me a voicemail. I was tempted to listen to it but then I decided not to. He sent a text message to my phone and I out of curiosity I opened it.
Are you serious?! You took it too far! You gon' pay for this shit for real. Most of my clothes were stolen! You know how much money I spent on my clothes, my shoes. My game. You threw my game out the window? And where the fuck is my money. You took it huh? You a bitch for real!
I closed the message. I knew I messed up but at this point I didn’t care. I turned off my phone and tried to enjoy the rest of my day. Around two o’clock my boss came rushing into my office.
“Terielle, you need to go home,” she said. I looked at her confused.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Your house is on fire.”
I rushed home. Since my phone was turned off I didn’t receive any calls. Once I turned it back on a million messages came to my phone and I had at least fifty missed calls. I pulled up to the house just to see it burned to a crisp. The firefighters were just leaving the scene. A police officer came up to me and asked if I was the owner of the house and if I had any idea who could’ve done this. I nodded but was too speechless to speak. My friends were standing behind the caution tape and when they saw me they begged an officer to let them pass. The officer asked me if I knew them. I nodded once again. They ran up to me and surrounded me in a group hug. We all cried together. My house was burned down and I had nothing. Everything was gone. All I had was a little money saved up and the five thousand I took from Orlando. I knew he did it and I knew I brought it upon myself.
***
Later that day my friends took me out to get me something to eat. It had been awhile since we had all met up. I was still kind of mad at them for taking me to that party that night so I kind of kept my distance.
“So was this the guy you met at the party?” Taylor asked.
I nodded. “It’s my fault. He was a sweetheart and treated me better than any man I have ever been with, but I thought I could change him. He was married to the streets and I tried to take him from that.”
“Yea it’s hard to change a street nigga.” Shae said understandingly. “Trust me we all have tried.”
“But what made him burn your house down?” Nia asked.
I sighed. “Not too long ago I found out that I was pregnant. I’m three weeks along right now. He ended up going to jail. After bailing him out, I told him that I was pregnant and that he needed to make a choice. Either the streets or me. He told me he wasn’t leaving the street life and either I accepted him for who he was or he was gone. I left and this morning I threw all of his shit out of the house before I went to work. Most of it was stolen by the time he got to it.”
They all stared at me. They knew that kind of behavior was not in me and now that I look back at it I regret it. I was just upset at how things turned out and I wanted him to pay. I really did love Orlando. I made the mistake of trying to force him to change and I pushed him away. Now I had to suffer the consequences.
“You can stay at my house until everything blows over,” Shae said. “We’ll get through this together
Ten.
“Wake up Darnell, it’s your first day of school.” I said shaking my son. My son was so handsome and looked just like his father. He had his beautiful light brown eyes and brown skin. I had kept his hair in a curly fro though and was almost tempted to let it grow out and get long. I never knew Orlando had such a good grade of hair. I knew for sure he didn’t get it from me.
“Baby boy, come on it’s time to get up.” I began to shake him lightly and he moved. He wiped his eyes and looked at me. My little man was too handsome and I loved him with every bit of me. He was a momma’s boy. Not that he had a choice not to be, and he never wanted to leave my side.
“Good morning mommy.” He said.
“Good morning son. Now go get ready. It’s almost time to go.” I told him. He hopped up.
“Oh my god, it’s my first day of school,” he said. He threw the covers off of him and jumped out of bed. I couldn’t help but laugh. He ran into the bathroom, picked up his toothbrush and struggled to put tooth paste on it. I walked in to try to help and he waved me off. He wanted to do it by himself. I let him and stood back and watched. It took him a little bit but he got his desired amount onto the toothbrush and then he looked at me and smiled. “I told you I got it.”
“Good, now brush them teeth. You want your teeth to be nice and clean on your first day of school.” I said.
“Ma, do you think I’ll make lots of friends?” he asked with a mouthful of toothpaste.
“I think you’ll make a ton a friends.” I told him. “Now spit.”
After we brushed his teeth, we went into his bedroom to get him dressed for school. I had taken him shopping a couple weeks ago and allowed him to pick out some clothes. I wasn’t surprised to see he had his father’s taste. He would be the cutest little boy in pre-school that’s for sure. He had on a purple Ralph Lauren polo shirt and purple, black, and white plaid shorts. He wore some black boat shoes on his feet. After putting on his clothes, he ran into my room to use my full body mirror. I followed him into my room and stood in the doorway. I watched him as he stood in a number of different poses, obviously feeling himself a little too much.
“Mommy take a picture. I want everyone to see my first day of school outfit,” he said.
I pulled out my phone and snapped a couple pictures of my handsome boy and his outfit. Just when I was about to take one more he told me to wait and ran into his room. He came back with a bowtie.
“Mommy, put this on me,” he told me. This boy continued to amaze me. Although his father had never been in his life, he acted exactly like him. Like I raised an exact rep
lica of his father. I tied the bowtie around his neck and he posed for a few more picture. “Hey mom, do you think my teachers going to make me go outside. I don’t want to get this outfit dirty.”
I laughed but the look on his face was so serious. What had I created? “Well there’s two options D, you can either be really careful and make sure you don’t ruin your clothes, or you can bring some play clothes for you to change into.”
“Play clothes!” he exclaimed.
“Ok play clothes it is little man. Now your breakfast is on the table, go ahead and start eating.” I told him. He took off into the kitchen and sat down at the table. I went to his room and put some play clothes in his backpack, along with some tennis shoes. When I walked into the kitchen, Darnell was already finished eating and was putting his dishes in the sink. He had food all over his face, but he was extremely careful not to get any on his clothes. I took him to the bathroom, washed his face off, and rubbed some coconut milk in his hair to make his curls look neater. I then squatted down in front of him and made sure everything was in order. When I looked at him he was staring at me. The stare was so familiar to me, but it wasn’t a stare I had gotten from my son before. The oh-so familiar stare was the stare I received from Orlando so many years ago. I had to admit. Even though I haven’t heard from him in four years, I still missed him. I still haven’t found a man that could compare to him, even though I haven’t done much looking. Despite his occupation, Orlando was a sweetheart who actually cared about me, but I pushed him away.
“Mommy, you are beautiful.” Darnell said. I smiled.
“Thank you mommy’s baby, now let’s get your backpack and let’s go before we’re late.” I told him.
“Mom, do you think my teacher’s going to be nice, “he asks as he put his backpack on his back and began to walk to the door.
“I’m sure she is son.” I told him
“I hope so. Oh mommy hold on,” he said and ran back to his room. He returned a piece of paper he had drawn on. “I made this for my teacher.”
He stuck it in his backpack and I opened the door to leave. I looked up to see Orlando standing on my front porch pacing back and forth. When he noticed we were standing in the doorway he looked at me. Orlando looked off for some reason, like life hit him really hard. He looked behind me at Darnell who was now holding on to my leg tightly. I placed my hand on his head to comfort him. Once Orlando saw him, his face lit up. He looked like the happiest man on earth in that split second.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him breaking the silence. He looked at me like that was the dumbest question he had ever heard in his life.
“I came to see my son.”
>> CLICK HERE TO GO TO THE TABLE OF CONTENTS <<
Sweet Revenge
Shantel Johnson
© 2015 Sensual Ink Publishing
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
I.
“Good catch son.”
My father and I were outside playing catch in the front yard while my little brother was inside taking a nap. Having a father in a neighborhood like mine is uncommon. Many of them never take the time to watch their little ones grow up and sometimes if they do try, there’s always some problem between them and the baby’s mama that causes them to just give up.
It was Saturday, the sun was shining and the neighborhood was booming with activity. One thing about the hood is that there is hardly ever a dull moment. The air smelled of barbecue, which probably meant that the Smith’s fired up the grill again. Romello and I would probably stop by later to get us a plate. Across the street, Ms. Betty had set up a pool for a grandchildren and they were running around in their bathing suits waiting for it to fill up. Next door, Uncle D and his partners were all gathered around on the porch smoking, drinking, and what not. Occasionally, some kid on a four wheeler would come zooming down the street, followed by some of his friends who were either on dirt bikes, or on skate boards. I told my dad I wanted a four wheeler and told me he would try to find one for me.
My dad and I look just alike. We share the same curly hair, bronze colored skin, and hazel eyes. We have dimples so deep you could probably fit a quarter inside of them, and a smile that makes all the ladies melt. We have the same body shape, except his muscles are more profound than mine, and he stood six feet, four inches. At ten, I was only five foot, six inches which is still tall considering my age. My dad was my role model. Unlike everyone else, he didn’t let where he lived define who he was and he wanted to raise his kids the same way.
My mom came outside to tell us that lunch was ready and then returned to the kitchen. I was starving, so we ended our game of catch and got ready to go inside to eat.. Just as we were walking inside, a black suburban with tinted windows pulled up in front of the house. The guy in the truck rolled down the windows and yelled my dad’s name.
“Go inside Terrell,” my dad told me as he walked towards the truck. I was hesitant but by the look on my dad’s face, I knew I better follow his orders. I went inside of the house and stood in front of the door to keep watch. The guy looked dark-skinned, kind of heavy set and wore sunglasses. He looked as if he had a long black beard but it blended in with the darkness on the inside of the car, so I couldn’t tell. He and my dad talked for a while, but I was too far away to hear their conversation. It had to be a heated one because my dad looked as if he was yelling. Then all of a sudden, my dad stepped back and put his hands up. That’s when I saw it. I ran onto the porch causing the door to slam. My dad looked in my direction, the look on his face showed his fear.
“Please don’t do this. Not in front of my son,” My dad begged. Unfazed by my appearance, the man in the truck took six shots. I screamed and ran to his side, calling for my mama. I watched as my dad fell to the ground, his blood was splattered all over the grass. I sat down beside him. He was hit three times. Once on the left side of his chest, once in his right side, and once on his right arm. Blood was steady flowing out of his body and I didn’t know what to do to stop it. I kneeled next to him as my mother came next to me. I heard her let out a cry.
“Dad you’re going to be alright, just don’t die,” I cried. He placed his left hand on my cheek and wiped the tears that was running down my face uncontrollably. “Somebody please call 911!”
“Son,” He breathed heavily. “Take care of your mom and your little brother. I’ve taught you well, now it’s your turn to protect them.” I shook my head. He wasn’t going to die. He couldn’t leave me, not like this. I needed him. We needed him.
“No, dad just hold on. The ambulance will be here soon. Don’t give up,” I begged. I picked his head up into my hands and laid my hand on his bloody chest.
“Son, I love you. Take care of your mama for me and don’t let anything happen to your brother,” he demanded. “Protect your family at all costs. Do whatever it takes to keep them safe.”
“Dad,” I whispered.
“Son, promise me you’ll keep them safe. Promise me!”
“I promise,” I said quietly. And with that he was gone. The tears on my face had stopped falling. It was time for me to be a man now. I whispered to him that I loved him too. My mother had left my side, the sight was too much on her. She now sat on the porch, crying hysterically. The neighbors surrounded her, desperately trying to console her. The ambulance finally arrived but it was too late. My mom followed as they took my dad to the ambulance. I looked across the street and caught the eye of Romello, my best friend, who had been crying also. His dad left before Romello was born, so my father took him in. My dad was the only father he knew. We stared at each other for a while, both hurt, but we knew what we had to do. My dad had raised the both of us as protectors and providers and we would protect our families at all cost. I watched as Romel
lo leaned into his mother and wrapped his hand around her waist, and then buried his head on her stomach.
I returned into the house and walked into the room I shared with my younger brother. He was still sound asleep in his bed. He looked so peaceful and happy, unaware of the tragedy that just took place. Tears began to fall down my face again. My brother was a split image of my dad as well. Same curly hair, bronze skin, and dimples, but he had my mother’s honey-brown eyes. I rubbed his face, it was so smooth and so warm. I love my brother and no matter what I would never let anyone hurt him. There was a part of me that wanted so desperately to run away and to never look back. It just wouldn’t be the same without my dad. He was my best friend. I knew he wanted to me to be here for them, though, and if I was to do so, I had to remain strong. My little brother needed me, and so did my mother. Montrell began to wake up and I had to regain my composure. I didn’t want him to see I was crying. Crying was a sign of weakness. He stretched, rubbed his eyes, and looked at me. A smile spread across his face.
“Hi Rell,” he said in his cute four year old voice, which made me crack a slight smile. It didn’t last long though because I had to prepare myself to tell him the bad news. I sighed and rubbed my hand through my brother’s hair.
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