Bad Behavior

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Bad Behavior Page 22

by Kiki Swinson


  I looked at the cabdriver and then I looked out the backdoor window and realized that he was absolutely right. I was home, so I needed to pay him and continue on with my mission. I reached into my purse, grabbed thirty dollars, and paid him. Before he could give me my five dollars in change, I had already gotten out of the car and closed the door.

  My family’s life meant more to me than fucking five dollars. I walked into my apartment building as fast as I could, considering the amount of drugs I had in my system. The building doorman spoke to me upon opening the door. I spoke back without giving him eye contact. He knew I had been in the hospital to have the baby, so he made mention of it. “Ms. Kelly, where’s the bundle of joy?” he asked cheerfully.

  “He’s still in the hospital with his dad,” I yelled back without turning around. But the questions didn’t stop there. He must’ve noticed the pain I was in when I walked by him because he asked me if I needed any help. “No, I’m good,” I continued. I couldn’t get on the elevator and away from that meddlesome doorman soon enough. As badly as I needed help to deal with getting my family back, I knew the doorman wouldn’t be cut out for the job.

  Thankfully, the elevator was empty when I got on it. When the elevator doors dinged open, the reality that Matt had resurfaced in my life had become a permanent fixture in my mind. I rushed through the elevator doors and sped down the long, carpeted hallway that led to my apartment. The hallway was pin-drop quiet as usual. In a ritzy building like that it was the norm. Although it was quiet and empty, I was looking around like a burglar about to rob someone’s house; that is how nervous I felt. I don’t know if I was nervous about going in my apartment or nervous about someone being there after I opened up the door.

  My heart jerked in my chest as I reached down to unlock my door. Before I pushed the door open, I looked around again, paranoid that someone was watching me. But why? That damn hallway was empty as hell. So I pushed the door open and walked inside. Immediately after I closed the door and locked it, my mind was racing at an unbelievable speed. Trying to hatch a plan to get the money and get my baby and my man back was becoming a little more than I could bear. Deep down in my heart I knew I couldn’t fuck this up. The depth of hatred that Matt had for me was indescribable. Not only had I robbed him of the heist he and I crafted together, I’d also left him and started another family. At this very moment, I needed to focus solely on giving Matt what he wanted. And if I didn’t deliver the goods to him within twenty-four hours, I knew my family would die.

  “Come on, Lauren, you can do this, baby girl,” I started telling myself. I needed as much pep talk as I could get. “Get yourself together and go down to this bank and get that money so you can get your man and your baby back. They’re all you have in this world. Fuck that money! Let that sorry-ass nigga have it. He needs it more than you.”

  I looked over at the clock on the DVR and noticed that I didn’t have a lot of time before the bank closed. With my bank being ten blocks away from my apartment, I knew I had to hurry up, change clothes, and hop in the first taxi I saw. My family’s lives depended on me.

  On my way to my bedroom I had to walk past my baby’s nursery. Derek and I designed this room ourselves. It was Derek’s idea to paint the room blue, white, and yellow. But I picked out the thin-blue-striped wallpaper. His room was simply gorgeous. So when I entered it, my heart dropped at the sight of his empty, white, laced bassinette. Seconds later, tears formed and started falling from my eyes. Next thing I knew, I had broken down and started crying. All of the emotions I was feeling from the kidnapping consumed me. My baby wasn’t supposed to be with Matt. He was supposed to be here with Derek and me. “God, please help me get my baby back!” I cried out after I fell down to my knees. “Lord, please don’t let anything happen to my baby. He needs me, God! So please let me get him back safely. And I promise I will surrender my life totally to you, Lord!” I ended my prayer.

  I think I wallowed in my sorrows for another ten minutes before I snapped out of it. Remembering I now had less than fifty minutes to dress and get the money got me back on my feet and focused. I wanted to take a shower but I couldn’t. I didn’t have enough time. Nor did I have the energy, so I took off everything I had on and slipped on a pair of dark brown cargo pants with pockets along the leg. Then I slipped on an old brown flannel shirt, two pairs of socks, a pair of tan Timberland boots, and a camouflage-designed cargo jacket. I looked like I was ready for war, but my body felt otherwise.

  I looked back at the clock on the DVR and saw that another ten minutes had gone by. Panic-stricken, I grabbed an old backpack Derek owned that was on the floor of the hall closet. And then I grabbed his gun from the lockbox that was hidden in the back of the closet but on the top shelf. I wasn’t going anywhere without it.

  After I placed the pistol inside the backpack, I grabbed my house keys and two forms of ID from my purse and shoved all three items down inside the right front pocket of my pants. I was ready to get back what belonged to me and I was willing to risk my life to do it.

 

 

 


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