Daddy's Home (Firebacks Book 1)

by Linda Verji

  “Don’t talk about my wife,” Lucky said, taking in his surroundings. Everything in the room was decorated in all white and beige; the carpeting, the drapes, the chaise longue that faced the large plasma TV. Everything! It was a room bred for luxurious comfort. “Who the hell is paying for this place?”

  Ignoring his question, Sonia switched off the TV and sat up on the bed. “What took you so long?”

  “How the fuck was I supposed to see you when you’re not picking up my calls?” Lucky asked as he sat on the edge of the vanity table facing her. “What happened to the phone I gave you?”

  “Sold it.” She ran a palm over her negligee. “Something had to pay for all this. Just because I’m carrying your baby don’t mean I can’t look good.”

  Her actions drew Lucky’s gaze to her bump. The red negligee masked a good portion of its size but it was still obvious. She was definitely pregnant. With his baby? “I’m gonna need a DNA test.”

  “What?” She picked up a bowl of berries from the bedside table and propped them on the bed beside her as she asked, “You think I’d lie about that?”

  Lucky merely folded his arms over his chest.

  “Whatever!” One strap fell off her shoulder with a nonchalant shrug. Sonia didn’t seem to mind. Popping another berry into her mouth, she said, “Sure. Soon as it’s born, you can have your DNA test.”

  For a moment he just stared at her. Sonia was a beautiful woman, granted. However, the thought that he was having a baby by her was incomprehensible. I knocked up a stripper. Never in a million years had he thought he’d end up as that guy. Not even when they were still living in the hood and could barely afford a roof over their heads, let alone now.

  “Are you just gonna keep staring at me or are we gonna talk child support?”

  “Child support?” he asked. “The baby isn’t even born.”

  “I didn’t make this baby by myself,” Sonia returned, her cat eyes narrowing as she glared at him. “You need to start handling your responsibilities like a man.”

  “I’ll handle it,” Lucky said quickly to diffuse the tension. He’d heard about pregnant women’s hormones and his mother hadn’t brought him up to shirk his responsibilities. If this was his seed, he’d take care of it. Lucky changed the subject. “How far along are you?”

  “Twenty two weeks.”

  “After the DNA tests, we can figure out child support,” Lucky said. “So what’s your plan until then? You going back to Atlantic City?”

  Her going back to Atlantic City would make his life so much easier.

  “Nah!” Sonia shook her head, dispelling any dreams he had of his baby mama being just another woman he sent child support to in another city each month. “I think I’ll just hang out here. I like New York.”

  “Don’t you have a job to go back to or something?”

  “Umm…” Sonia cut her eyes at him. “…your baby just ruined my job. Speaking of which, you need to pay my bill.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “The hotel room,” Sonia clarified. “I don’t have any money to pay for it.”

  “That’s funny.” Lucky chuckled, amused for the first time since his entry into the room, “Imagine you booking yourself into the most expensive hotel in Long Island and having no way to pay for it. You’d have to be crazy.”

  Sonia simply stared at him as she popped another berry into her mouth. The grin on Lucky’s face fell.

  “Are you crazy?” His voice rose with every word. “The hell I’m paying your bill! I don’t even know if that’s my baby!”

  “Then you better have something to say to Bossip, when they ask you why your baby mama is out on the street,” she said, bringing up one of the Internet’s worst gossip sites.

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “Are you paying my bill?” she returned.

  The more he looked at this woman, the angrier he got. He needed to get out of here or he’d say or do something stupid. Heading for the door, he threw over his shoulder, “Fine.”

  “Thank you daddy.” Sonia called out just as he opened the door, “And I’ll need another phone too. You know. So we can talk about your baby.”

  Lucky was fuming as he took the elevator back down. He should’ve punched Polo when he had the chance. Now he was stuck with a woman who was obviously out to squeeze the last cent from him. Getting off at the lobby, he headed straight for the manager’s office.

  Zain was going to kick up a fuss but the alternative, the press finding out about Sonia, was not an option. It didn’t surprise him in the least when the manager told him that Sonia had gone on a shopping spree in the hotel’s souvenir shop and put it on the room. No, what surprised him were the flashing cameras that met him the moment he stepped out of the hotel.

  “Mr. Ford. Tell us about Sonia Milàn!” a reporter screamed.

  “Is it true she’s having your baby?” Another asked, waving a microphone at him.

  Someone jostled his arm. “Is it true you’ve been seeing her for the last two years?”

  “Does Zain know?”

  Apparently things could get worse.

  CHAPTER 6

  “What do you think?” Sonia asked. She stood in front of a long mirror, taking in the fit of a green, floor length evening dress accentuated by a thick panel of white that ran from its rounded neck to the tips of her heels. Behind her, she could clearly see the thin sales assistant tapping a finger against his chin as he stared contemplatively

  “Mm, I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “The white emphasizes your-”

  He gestured flamboyantly towards her baby bump with a sniff of disapproval.

  “You think so?” She twirled left and right, the slinky dress swaying softly with her movements. Sonia knew that she really shouldn’t be taking fashion advice from anyone who wore a red polka dotted bowtie, pink shirt, and high top sneakers, but she agreed with him in this case. Her pregnancy was ruining everything.

  The woman staring back at her was a far cry from the woman Lucky had met in Atlantic City. That woman had a body that could – and had – made men weep. That body was perfect! She’d once had a belly so flat coins could bounce off it, breasts so high people swore they were fake, and ankles that didn’t look obnoxiously swollen in high heels.

  Sonia liked to think that she wasn’t a vain woman, just one who knew the gifts she had and shamelessly used them to her advantage. A hard life had taught her that her body was her only weapon. If she wanted to continue to survive, she needed to learn how to wield it. She didn’t have a family, an education, a husband or any outstanding talents to fall back on. This baby had blunted her weapon.

  “It’s worth it,” Sonia muttered to herself.

  “I’m sorry?” the store clerk asked

  “I said do you have something that’s better?”

  The sales clerk scooted over, looking for a dress that would flatter her body in its current condition. Sonia went back to the dressing room and removed the dress she wore. She let it fall to the floor, leaving her naked with the exception of her underwear.

  Gah! She hated being pregnant! Hated the endless tiredness, the puking and the cravings that she denied because she wanted to keep her body tight for when she finally popped this kid. To think she’d done it deliberately! If she’d known the kind of shit she’d go through, she’d have had second thoughts.

  Or would she?

  Probably not! Everything hadn’t gone completely according to plan, but if Lucky stuck to the script from now on, this baby would be her little nest egg. She’d never have to sell herself or be under some pimp’s thumb again. It’d all be worth it. That thought alone was enough to make her feel a spurt of affection for the miniature human inside her.

  “What will we call you?” She smiled as she rubbed her tummy. “Lucky Jr?”

  According to the papers Lucky didn’t have any biological children of his own. He was eleven years into his marriage and had no children? That’s why she’d known her plan would work. What m
an could resist the chance to finally have a child of his own?

  “Yup! Definitely Lucky Jr.” She nodded to herself. “That will make your daddy very happy.”

  The sales clerk knocked on the door of the dressing room and entered the little cubicle carrying a green wrap dress. “I think this might just be the one for you.”

  A look at the price tag as she tried on the dress said it cost three thousand dollar. Two years ago Sonia would’ve blinked, probably even dusted the damn thing and returned it to the rack. Instead, she shrugged carelessly to herself. She deserved this. Ever since the press had discovered her, she’d been hiding in her room. Yesterday news had broken of some celebrity who’d shot is wife so they’d moved on. This was her first excursion out of her room and she was going to milk Lucky for all it was worth.

  Forty minutes later, after taking the dress and a selection of other clothes, Sonia stood at the register arguing with the same sales clerk. Gone was the easy camaraderie he’d displayed before. He stared at her with an irritated glare. “I’m sorry Miss Milán, but the hotel’s management says that you do not have a line of credit with them.”

  “I told you it’s not my line,” Sonia growled in frustration. “It’s my man Lucky’s. Halake Ford? The wide receiver from the-”

  “I know who Halake Ford is,” the clerk interrupted her. “The concierge says Mr. Ford ordered that we not extend anymore credit to you. If you’ll just give me your credit card—”

  What credit card? Her credit card was between her legs and this baby had just shut down the bank. Ooh, Lucky was playing with her! According to Bossip, Lucky had received a seven million dollar paycheck last year. And he had the nerve to refuse to buy her a what – a three thousand dollar dress? He’d better be playing with her!

  “Call them again,” Sonia insisted, growing angrier at every word that left his mouth.

  “We’ve called them twice already but-”

  “Call them again!” she growled this time, removing her heels. The clerk realizing that she meant business called the front desk again. The answer was the same. No more credit for Sonia.

  She stormed out of the shop with only one thought in mind; get to her room, call Lucky and give him a blistering mouthful. He probably thought that just because the media now knew about them that she was out of blackmail fodder. He didn’t know Sonia Milán. Sonia Milán always had some cards in her bra.

  “You’re gonna know my name, Lucky,” she muttered to herself as she marched into the elevator. “You’re gonna know my name.”

  The doors were sliding to a close when someone stuck a hand out preventing it from shutting completely. A man stepped into the elevator. Sonia’s eyes widened at the sight of the new entrant.

  He was just an average man; slightly taller than her with a swarthy complexion, jet-black hair, and a thin moustache. The man wore a black shirt unbuttoned to reveal an unflattering amount of his hairy chest and khaki pants hiked above his rotund belly. An oversized gold watch clinking at his thick wrist.

  Normal as he looked, he was Sonia’s worst nightmare.

  “Fé…Félix,” she stammered.

  “Sonia.” He smiled, his beady eyes lit with a cruel delight as the elevator doors closed behind him. “Did you really you were going to get away with it?”

  She expected it, even turned her head in preparation, but when it came – when he raised his fist and smashed it into her temple – the pain was just as blinding. Sonia fell to her knees on the metallic floor.

  CHAPTER 7

  Félix hauled Sonia to her feet with thick fingers around her neck and slammed her against the elevator wall. “Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

  She would’ve answered if she wasn’t still reeling from the pain of being backhanded with such force. She struggled to draw in air through her closed throat, clawing at his fingers as her eyes silently pleaded with him to let her go.

  “You snitched on Felix.”

  Sonia shook her head, even though it was the truth.

  Tired of him holding all the cards, she’d snitched on him about his illegal bookkeeping side-gig. After the police took him away, she’d raided his safe. His money had funded her lifestyle for all of two months before she was out of cash and right back to stripping and tricking. How the hell was he even out of prison? How had he even found her?

  “Félix has friends.” His beady eyes narrowed with murderous intent as he squeezed again cutting off even more of her air. “Everywhere.”

  He released her suddenly but didn’t take a step back. Sonia erupted in a fitful cough, slumping against the wall as she rubbed her throat. She reached up to touch her eye and her fingers came back with a double-coat of blood.

  He must’ve been really angry with her if he had gone for her face. He usually called her face his money maker so any brand of punishment he meted out was designed to save her face. He’d starved her, abused her, taken all her money, raped her, gotten other men to rape her, taken all her pay but he’d never touched her face.

  “Te extrañaba mi amor.” He smiled like they were some couple who had been thrust away from each other unexpectedly. Maybe they were because in a warped way they had been dependent on each other for seven years. He’d depended on her for a cut of her take; she’d depended on him for her johns.

  “I missed you too.” Sonia threw a furtive glance at the buttons on the right side of the elevator. They were only on the fourth floor. If she could keep him talking, maybe they’d even get to the fifteenth floor without him killing her.

  “Did you?” He laughed in amusement while his cold eyes perused her body lingering deliberately on her distended tummy. She recoiled when he stretched out a hand to touch. His hand dropped and his voice took on a hard note. “Félix wants his money, Sonia.”

  “I don’t have-”

  The punch in the eye caught her unawares. The pain shot through her face with excruciating force. With a pained whimper, Sonia covered her face with her hands.

  “You owe Félix two hundred grand,” he explained. She’d only walked away with one hundred grand but she wasn’t about to argue the point with him while she was in so much pain. “The only reason you’re not dead is because of that thing en su estómago. You have until it get’s out. Then it’s you, Félix, and a nice bullet.”

  This time he aimed for her mouth. She felt the split lip even before his ringed fingers connected with her mouth. Sonia crumpled onto the metallic floor. The elevator dinged signaling their arrival on the fifteenth floor. The last thing she saw before she slipped into unconsciousness was Félix shoes as he exited the elevator

  * * ***

  “So, let me get this story straight.” Chryssa paused dramatically. “This nigga-”

  “Lucky,” Tasha corrected.

  “This nigga…” Chryssa continued with her postmortem of what she’d termed as ‘The Not-so-Epic Saga of Another Cliché Baller’. “…went to a strip club with his own two feet, got his stupid ass drunk, slept with some skunk, got the bitch pregnant and is now spinning you some bullshit story that he never intended for it to happen?”

  “Mm hmm.” Zain nodded as she cradled her mug of coffee in her hands. The three friends were seated around the metallic table on Chryssa’s balcony. Technically they were supposed to be at Zain’s house because Tasha wasn’t allowed to come to Chryssa’s, but Nadifa had come to the house today morning to celebrate the news of her coming grandchild. Zain couldn’t bear to spend another minute in the same house as that woman.

  “Girl,” Chryssa said, “at least tell me you cut off his balls.”

  Zain shook her head.

  “One ball then?” Chryssa pleaded.

  “Chrys, don’t incite her,” Tasha scolded. Even seated, she embodied a true lady. Today she wore one of her pastel skirts and frilly blouses as she clutched her cup of coffee daintily. “I’m glad you and Lucky decided to talk this out like mature adults.”

  “Oh please! That mature shit goes out the window the moment your ma
n brings another woman into the picture.” Chryssa turned back to Zain, her eyes narrowed in question. “So you really waved the white flag then, huh?”

  “Sorta.”

  “Sorta?” Tasha’s brow furrowed in question.

  “She means that his dick is still on the chopping block,” Chryssa clarified with a small laugh.

  “Why? If you’re gonna forgive him, just forgive and forget,” Tasha insisted. “Lucky is a good man and this is just a one time mistake.”

  “You on some bourgie bullshit, Tasha! That’s how they start. You let him get away with it once and soon you’ll have Tamia from Richmond, Sandra from Detroit and-” Chryssa turned to Zain with an arched eyebrow. “My bad. Your man is into those exotic types though, right? So it’s gonna be Nikita from Russia, Habida from-”

  “I get the picture.” Zain didn’t want to think of Lucky with all those women.

  “What I’m saying is,” Chryssa said, “keep that dick on the board till kingdom comes. If he ever even sniffs in the direction of another woman, swing that knife.”

  Both Tasha and Zain winced at the imagery.

  “When are you going to do the DNA tests?” Tasha asked. Before Zain could answer however, her phone vibrated on the tabletop.

  “Yes?” she answered.

  “Hello Mrs. Ford? Have you had a chance to talk to Lucky’s mistress?” a woman asked. Ever since the story had blown up, the press had been on her case. No matter how much she tried not to take it out on Lucky - because it would’ve been naïve to assume the press wouldn’t know about it - she couldn’t help it. Additional tension had crept into their marriage and Nadifa and her crowing only added to it. It was no wonder she didn’t want to stay in her own home.

  “No comment,” Zain snapped before ending the call.

  The phone rang again.

  “Look bitch,” Zain started, the attitude spilling in her tone. “I told you-”