by Jade Jones
For a split second, Shayla lowered her guards. “I don’t wanna get hurt, Romeo.”
He didn’t bother rushing to put her mind at ease. He’d never been the type to sell dreams. But he was definitely was willing to try and earn her trust. No woman had ever carried Romeo’s seed before. And as crazy as it sounded, it was probably just what he needed to calm his feral ass down.
Instead of feeding Shayla some bull, Romeo leaned down and kissed her. Day by day, he planned on breaking down her doubts and barriers. Romeo would show her he was a real nigga with his actions.
26
Three Weeks Later
“How you like it?” Romeo asked, walking hand-in-hand with Shayla. Their footsteps echoed off the polished concrete floors of a beautiful corner-unit condo. The 11-foot floor to ceiling windows overlooked the entire Midtown.
Shayla looked like a high school girl going to her first prom, she was so excited. “I love it!” she exclaimed. Jumping up on Romeo, she wrapped her legs around him and kissed him passionately.
In spite of what her mother and ex-boyfriend thought, Shayla was taking a chance on Romeo. And she was taking an even bigger chance by keeping the baby. Though the gamble was risky, Shayla believed Romeo was worth it. She only hoped in the end, he didn’t turn out acting like Cool. Speaking of him, she hadn’t talked to her girl K in a minute. Regardless of their differences, Shayla hoped her life was going as well as hers.
***
“Mothafucka, what is this?!” Kim snapped.
Standing in the doorway of their bedroom, she held up a $255 Marcelo Burlon t-shirt.
“What is it?” Cool asked, squinting his eyes. He had his feet propped up on velvet pillows while watching TV—like he wasn’t the biggest rat in town.
Kimberlyn wasted no time flicking the bedroom light switch on so Cool could see the lipstick print. “This shit!” she screamed. Tears pooled in her eyes as she confronted him. As foolish as it was, she’d given him a second chance and he had let her down. Apparently, old habits die hard.
When Cool didn’t respond fast enough, Kim continued with her rant. “I LET YO’ ASS BACK IN!”
“Calm da fuck down!” he barked. “You trippin’ over dat old ass shirt. That stain could’ve been there! Dat don’t mean I’m fuckin’ around—”
Kimberlyn tossed the shirt and held her hand out. “Then let me see your phone,” she demanded.
“Nah, you don’t need to—”
“Let me see the fucking phone!” Kim yelled, running to the nightstand.
In the blink of an eye, Cool jumped out the bed and grabbed her by the throat. “Bitch, chill wit’ all dat shit,” he said before releasing her.
“I hope you had that bitch smuggling in yo’ dope too!” Kim cried. “You always gon’ be the same dog ass nigga. I been a real bitch since day one, and this is how you do me?”
“You doin’ it to yourself,” Cool said nonchalantly. “I ain’t fucked around with nobody since we been back together.” The fib came faster than a premature ejaculator. Unbeknownst to Kim, he’d still been hanging tough with Ava. The two had gotten so close that she even confided in him about her business. At first, Cool had only been fucking with her for the pussy, but after a while he became more interested in her organization.
Finessing Ava at all costs, Cool stuck around merely to learn the ins and outs. He kept her high most times so that she wouldn’t keep up with the shit she said. Cool had even gathered that Kim’s side nigga was Ava’s business partner. Supposedly, she was in love with motherfucker; Cool didn’t give a damn. He only wanted the empire she’d built. And he was willing to do whatever slime ass shit he had to in order to get it.
“Mothafucka, you got mo’ lies to tell than a nigga in jail!” Kim spat. “If you ain’t got shit to worry about, let me see your phone.”
“First off, back the fuck up out my face like I’m some soft ass nigga. I’m him. Not them. Act like you know me.”
Heeding his warning, Kimberlyn did as she was told. But she refused to let up on her verbal assaults. “I want you out of my damn house! Like right now, Cool.”
Plopping down on the edge of the bed, he waved her off. “Fuck outta here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
Cool had no consideration for her request when he pulled a tiny baggie out the nightstand’s drawer. Dumping the fine powder on the surface, he knelt down and snorted a generous amount.
Cool wasn’t tripping over the fact that he had a drug test in a couple weeks. He knew a few tricks of his own to get past that.
“So you gon’ sit here and act like you don’t hear me?” Kimberlyn asked in a calm tone. “Don’t make me call twelve on your ass, Cool.”
Cool chuckled, unfazed by her warning. Kim wasn’t crazy so he was the least bit bothered. “Nah. Call dat nigga you been fuckin’ while I was down the road.”
“Maybe I will,” she said, folding her arms.
Cool didn’t like hearing that shit. Standing to his feet, he towered over Kim by several inches. “Fuck you just say to me?” he asked through clenched teeth.
For years, Cool had been stepping out on Kimberlyn. Knowing that she was doing the same while he was imprisoned cut deep. He’d finally gotten a dose of his own medicine, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth.
Cool had already promised himself that when he crossed paths with Desmond he would kill him. In his mind, Kimberlyn was his property. Back when he met her, she was an average, simple-minded young girl. Cool had groomed her, taught her, and showed her the finer things in life. He’d even gone out his way to save her ungrateful ass aunt from homelessness. Now Kimberlyn was standing there acting like a nigga had never done anything for her. Favoring some other motherfucker like he was more important than him.
“Bitch, what the fuck you just say?!”
Suddenly, Kim regretted talking like she couldn’t get touched. She was out of line and she knew it. “Cool, I—I didn’t—”
Unfortunately, her explanation came a little too late.
Out of nowhere, Cool yanked Kimberlyn up by her hair and dragged her towards the hallway bathroom. “Dat new dick must’ve gave ya ass amnesia ‘cuz you obviously don’t know who you fuckin’ wit’!”
“COOL, LET ME GO!” Kimberlyn screamed. She tried to pry her hair from his hands, but his vice grip was firm. Against her will, Kim was unmercifully dragged to the toilet.
Upon hearing her niece’s cries, Rita quickly rushed to the hallway. She’d had a bad feeling about Cool moving back in since day one. She had even gone out her way to avoid him since he’d been back. It was obvious her doubts weren’t just paranoia. Christopher “Cool” Williams was the devil reincarnated.
“LET GO OF MY HAIR!” Kimberlyn hollered. “Cool, stop—”
Kim’s statement was cut short after her head was dunked inside the toilet bowl. Sadly, the last person who used it had forgotten to flush. Kimberlyn’s arms flailed wildly as she fought to breathe. Her heart hammered rapidly in her chest from fear and adrenaline.
“You wanna call dat nigga—you wanna fuck dat nigga?! Where he at now? Huh?!”
Coughing and choking on the salty liquid, Kim tried her hardest to fight back. Death loomed overhead, but she would be damned if she left easily. Unluckily for her, Cool bench pressed 250 lbs. effortlessly. Kim’s slapping and clawing proved useless as he continued to drown her.
Gritting his teeth, there was a menacing look in Cool’s eyes. As usual, drugs and jealousy had him going off the deep end. This time, however, he’d gone too far.
Oh my God. He’s really gonna kill me this time, Kim’s brain registered.
“Son of a bitch! Get off her!” Rita screamed, punching at Cool’s back.
In one fluid motion, Cool shoved the hell out the older woman. Losing her balance, Rita stumbled and fell into a nearby wall. The impact instantly shattered her skull, creating a large gash in the back of her head. She was dead before she even dropped.
Cool watched Rita slump to the floor at an awkward angl
e. Suddenly, his entire life flashed before his eyes as he thought about the jury throwing the book at him. “Shit…,” Cool muttered.
“RITA?!” Kim screamed. Face and hair soaked with urine, she hurried over to her motionless aunt and reached for a pulse. When she didn’t feel one, she looked up at Cool teary-eyed. “What did you do? WHAT DID YOU FUCKING DO?”
Cool looked like a deer caught in headlights as he stood there mouth agape, paralyzed by his own actions. Unfortunately, he didn’t realize how strong he was. Now that major mistake would cost him his freedom. Not even Seth could get him out of that shit.
Cradling Rita’s head in her arms, Kimberlyn gently rocked back and forth. “What did you do?” she asked repeatedly. Tears streamed down her cheeks and dripped onto the bloodstained tile.
“Mommy?” Jordan asked in a shaky tone. His tiny eyes shot open in fear after seeing his lifeless aunt sprawled out.
“No. Come here, Jordan,” Cool said, reaching for him.
“Don’t you fucking touch my son!” Kimberlyn screamed. Fear shook her entire body at the sight of him. She felt like she didn’t even know Cool at that moment. He was an animal.
“He don’t need to see this shit, K!”
“GET AWAY FROM US!”
Cool looked from Kim to Rita to his son. “Fuck!” he yelled, leaving the room. He knew without a doubt that he’d fucked up majorly. Before leaving, he punched a second hole in the wall and trashed the foyer. The future wasn’t looking too bright for Cool, and he couldn’t accept it.
27
“Congratulations. You’re five weeks pregnant with an estimated due date of August 15th,” the ultrasound tech told Romeo and Shayla. She looked more excited than Shayla did, but she still had her reservations.
Motherhood was not something she had prepared herself for. But if Romeo believed they had what it took and could make it worth, she was with it. After all, he had yet to give her any real doubts.
Squeezing Shayla’s hand gently, Romeo relished the thought of being a daddy. The streets and the hustle were momentarily placed on the backburner. Nothing was more important to him than being there for Shayla.
Romeo’s upbringing had been rocky, and he didn’t want that for his child. He certainly wasn’t an advocate of abortion. And while commitment wasn’t something he was skilled at, Romeo didn’t think it was impossible to learn to be.
Shayla had already proved she was worth it, so that was the least he could do. She’d weaseled her way into his heart regardless of how stubborn he acted. And she was patient through the rough transition. As a reward, Romeo moved her up out her parents’ crib.
“When will we know what we havin’?” he asked the tech. Secretly, he was hoping for a son.
“Around eighteen to twenty weeks,” she told them.
Romeo had a slew of other questions but his cellphone rang unexpectedly. Shayla instantly tensed up. This was their first ultrasound and she hated to share the special moment with someone else.
Staring at the screen, Romeo debated on whether or not to answer for Desmond. Truth be told, he’d even considered leaving the business altogether after finding out he was about to be a father.
Hitting the silence button, Romeo placed the phone in his pocket. He figured he’d deal with the consequences later.
Impressed that Romeo was putting her first, Shayla reached over and held his hand.
“We gon’ be straight,” he promised her. “Right now you number one. Everything else is just that…”
***
“Is he answering?” Ava asked. She didn’t bother looking up as she continued texting Cool. She, like Romeo, had been slipping ever since someone new popped into her life. Her pot growing had even slowed down, causing the streets to run drier. Their entire organization was falling apart in front of Desmond’s very eyes, and he wasn’t feeling it.
Ava and Dez were at the warehouse waiting to unload when Romeo was nowhere to be found. Desmond had no idea about Romeo’s good news. All he knew was that his boy had been ducking and dodging him lately. “Hell nah. Mufucka actin’ like we ain’t got work to do.”
Over the last couple weeks, Desmond had been more strained than ever. Kimberlyn was no longer fucking with him and Dana was making his life a living hell. To make matters worse, Romeo had gone AWOL which was totally unlike him.
“Who you textin’?” Desmond asked, his tone laced with irritation.
“No one,” Ava smiled, putting her phone away.
“Good. Then help me unload this shit.”
***
Rita’s memorial service was held at a small funeral home that contained no more than six people. Most of them were neighbors and Kimberlyn’s peers. Their family had always been small so she didn’t expect much. However, she was overjoyed that Shayla had showed up. In spite of their argument, it was nice to know she could put their differences aside to show support.
“How you holding up?” Shayla asked, pulling her girl into a hug.
“Holding,” Kim sniffled.
Hanging onto her friend tightly, Shayla tried to take some of the weight off Kim’s shoulders. She hated that she’d stayed away; and she promised herself that she would never let them fall apart and remain angry.
“K, I am so sorry about—”
“Don’t even worry about it. It doesn’t even matter,” Kim waved her off. “I’m just happy you’re here. That means more than any apology or explanation. I love you, boo.”
“Love you too.”
“So has there been any word from Cool?”
Kimberlyn sniffled and wiped her nose. “Nope. The police haven’t been able to track him down. But they have someone on patrol circling the house every so often.”
“You’re more than welcome to stay with me. I have more than enough space for you and Jordan—”
“No, I’m good,” Kimberlyn assured her. “Thanks though, girl. I know you got my back.”
“Always,” Shayla said, hugging her again.
While holding onto Shayla, Kimberlyn noticed a familiar face walk inside the funeral home. It had been a little while since the two saw each other, and she couldn’t deny that she missed him like crazy. Regardless of the drama he brought her way, Desmond had left a powerful impression on her. One that made getting over him incredibly difficult.
“I’ma hit you up later, okay,” Kimberlyn promised Shayla.
“Alright. And please let me know if you need anything.”
After bidding her friend farewell, Kimberlyn slowly made her way to Desmond. He looked sharp in a crisp black Dolce and Gabbana suit. There wasn’t a piece of lint in sight, and his light stubble only added to his appeal.
When Kimberlyn finally reached him she didn’t bother speaking, apologizing, or attempting to address their last encounter. Pushing the past to the side, she wrapped her arms around Desmond and held him close.
28
One Week Later
“Fuck you been at, blood?” Desmond asked. He was going over numbers when Romeo traipsed into the warehouse’s office. Heading towards the safe, he prepared to collect his dues.
“Handlin’ business,” Romeo answered nonchalantly. He didn’t feel like explaining himself or hearing a lecture even though he knew one was coming. Romeo had been out of commission too long for it not to go addressed.
Instead of hounding him with questions, Desmond laughed and shook his head.
“What’s so funny?” Romeo asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Nothin’ man. It’s just…I thought you said you were handlin’ business. Nigga, you been MIA all month. Yo’ ass ain’t even been makin’ drop offs like you ‘posed to. But you got’cha greedy ass hands in the cookie jar—”
“Speak yo’ fuckin’ mind,” Romeo challenged him.
Desmond hopped out his stool so fast that it toppled to the floor. “Oh, I am, my nigga! Me and Ava been bustin’ our asses while you been out playin’ house—”
“Look, if it’s ‘bout da money, keep my share ‘cuz.
It ain’t ‘een dat serious, dawg.” With that said, Romeo attempted to walk around Desmond but he jumped in his face, stopping him.
“Dat’s da fuckin’ problem, homie! Ain’t shit serious to you lately. If I ain’t know any better I’d think you was flakin’ on a nigga—”
“Man, get da fuck out my face. I ain’t finna ask you twice,” Romeo said. It took everything in him not to drop Desmond. The fact that they were friends was the only ammunition he had.
Desmond looked Romeo up and down and blew a raspberry. “You ain’t hungry, blood,” he said. “If you put half as much in da craft as what’chu put in chasin’ ass, we’d be lookin’ at some better numbers.”
“Man, fuck dem numbers. Fuck this gig. And fuck you!” Romeo sneered. “I can’t take none of this shit wit’ me when I die. Nigga, I just found out I’m havin’ a baby. I can give a fuck about meetin’ yo quota. Keep dem pennies, blood. I ain’t ever had a problem gettin’ it. Matter fact, I planned on droppin’ out soon anyway.”
Desmond’s jaw practically hit the floor after hearing that news. Never in his life had he heard Romeo say he wanted to give up a life of crime. Since the sand box days all they’d ever talked about was getting money together. Pink Dragon was their way out the hood…and now Romeo was saying he wanted to give it all up to be a father.
“Hol’ up, dawg. Fuck you mean you droppin’ out?” Desmond asked. He didn’t even stop to congratulate his boy. All he cared about was the money he’d be potentially missing out on without his partner. Romeo knew a bunch of heavyweights in the streets, and he was the mouth behind the operation. Where Desmond lacked in some fields, Romeo picked up the slack. They’d always been a team. One wouldn’t win without the other, and if one failed they both did. “You ain’t gon’ stand in my face and tell me you throwin’ all dis shit away. Our blood, sweat, and tears—”
“It ain’t yo’ call, bruh,” Romeo interrupted. “Shit, no offense, but da last thing I want is me and Shayla to end up like you and Dana. I’ma be there for mines.”