… A few months later, I met Henry, my kid’s father.
Chapter 25
BLU.
We've been here for a few months. Moms keeps busy tending to Rockwell's ever-growing belly and situating my younger sisters in private school. Lorenzo is paying top dollar, so these schools will have Lorenza and Toi smarter than all of us soon enough.
In my pajama pants and a camisole, I step into the main house via the kitchen. Damn, Lorenzo is just right there, cooking breakfast. He’s just the dude I came to see, but how to go about what I have to say? “Brah, um...”
“Sup lil’ sis,” Lorenzo continues to cook in just his boxers. This nigga is pussy whipped. But I know he's happy, Rocky’s happy.
“I wanna go to...”
“Nigga speak,” he says, still not giving me much attention, whisking eggs for the perfect omelet.
“Nothing,” I start backing up.
“Ain't nothing, Blu,” Lorenzo replies. He finally turns around, “Girl, you used to be all mouth. Speak. What you want? Why you over here all early anyway?”
“Nothing, dang, just thanks for the new car...” I start out the kitchen side door around the pool and walk back over to my own crib.
When I get inside, I look in on Phillip. My son is stretched out all over the bed, snoring softly. In the next room, like father like son, Popeye is knocked out. So I grab the keys to the Camaro Lorenzo bought me and get dressed.
My brah has a doctor that make’s home visits. My papi had a family doctor that made house calls, which came in handy when one of his goons got outta line, or when Papi León got sick. I know Santi does the same thing but I just can't ask my Tio to make a doctor visit, and I sure can’t ask Lorenzo. Don’t even know how I mustered up enough courage to step to Lorenzo this morning.
This is too embarrassing.
When I get down to the clinic, I stand in the long line with the rest of ‘em. Courtesy of Patrol or Keandre, my Chlamydia pills have all been taken. Time to make sure I'm in the clear. And when that's done, I'm still waiting on the HIV test to come back too.
Chapter 26
POPEYE
We’ve been taking it slow. Just trying to work on us, but Blu ain't even act like she's interested anymore. I mean we have chats here and there. Sometimes even heart to hearts. She won’t tell me what the Jamaicans did yet. But each time we get close and I try to be there for Blu, she has a headache, she’s sleepy, or she just doesn’t want to be bothered. A nigga can’t even get a kiss.
Just yesterday she went for a ride in her new Camaro. Then I asked where she had gone, since I’m tryna get used to this area, Blu just rushed to her room.
I’ve slept in this morning. Usually I’m peeking in on my wife and she’s still sleep. I’m surprised to be watching her slip out of her cozy pajama pants. Silently, I watch her back as she takes off her camisole, no bra. My dick is instantly on swole. As she starts to reach for her jeans, I lick my lips, ready to see Blu’s apple bottom. But she stops and turns around. Blu’s hands fly over her chest.
I speak up quickly, “Is that a scar?” Fuck I know. Why did I even mention that long gash on her cheek? Everyone has been trying to be cool about it and look away, even though Blu has never been much for looks.
“What?” Blu rolls her eyes.
“Blu, you're so muthafuckin’ beautiful baby,” I tell her as she turns back around and goes to the dresser.
“Bye with that Popeye. You just said there's a big scar on my face!” She slings her bra at me and pulls down her panties. Shit if this ain't no action then I don't know what. My eyes go the curls of her pussy, but she starts to put on a bikini and glares through me. Damn, she fine. I finally speaks as she tries to toss her yellow sandal.
“Man, I didn't say you had a big scar. Blu, why are you acting like that? Why the fuck I can’t even touch you?”
“Look, I'll see you outside. A’ight?” She tosses one of the beach towels my way and starts pass me.
Got a nigga feeling low key ugly. Last night after she had gotten comfortable, and wasn’t acting all secretive, we took a couple shots and almost kissed. I cup my hand and smell my breath. No problems here. Shit, even when I was a pretty nigga I was minty.
An hour later in my swimming trunks I start outside. The backyard is active. The music is loud. Bitches are eyeing me, giving much needed confidence.
One hands me a beer. “Sup papi?” she says with thick curly hair and a Spanish accent that has my dick hard.
“Just chilling.” Damn that was stupid; I used to be the mack.
“Daddy!” Phillip comes up to me, grabs my arm and pulls me to the plank where Lorenzo Junior is getting ready to jump into the pool.
“I jump higher,” Junior says.
“No, I do!” Phillip starts onto the plank as Junior flips into the water.
“So that's your son?” sexy asks, stepping back up to me. Her hot pink bathing suit clinging to every curve.
“Yeah,” I begin, and finally say something to make the beautiful girl laugh. Then two more bitches come over.
Sexy asks, “Can you put this sunblock–”
“Hell no, he can't.” Rocky comes up waddling, with her big belly. “Bitch where you come from? Matter fact where half you stupid bitches come from?”
“Um…” sexy is stunned.
“Don't speak. Fall back,” she shoos them away.
“Damn, you a cold piece, Rocky.”
“And you finna be even colder. Matter fact, six feet under if I see you with another trick. Blu is over there.” Rockwell cocks her head toward the bar.
I shake my head and smile.
Rocky links her arm around mine. “C'mon Popeye, why are you tripping? Let’s get you a nice drink.”
“Man, talk to ya girl,” I warn.
“Nah, Blu is hard to talk to. You know me when I have a goal,” she begins snapping her fingers, “I gotta get what I want quick. You and Blu better work that out quick. You feel me?”
“Yeah.” I take a deep breath as we start for the canopy where a bartender is mixing drinks.
“And I need to make sure you watch Lorenzo.”
“Nah, Rocky, you trust Lorenzo,” I tell her.
“Popeye don't forget you used to work for my uncle Marcel back in the day when you had pimples–”
“Never that,” I cut her off.
“Okay, you were scrawny,” she laughs. “Anyways, I know you hated Marcel, but that still means you have to be loyal to me, first.”
“You a bossy little midget aren't you?” I laugh with her.
“Um hum. Make sure these hoes enjoy themselves from a muthafuckin’ distance. Besides, there’s enough dudes here for these hoes to know who’s off limits.”
“Okay,” I start for the pool.
“Nigga, where are you going?”
“Just to swim, isn’t this a party?”
“Either you’re gonna chill with Blu or watch Lorenzo,” she snaps the last part under her breath.
“A’ight Rocky.” Man, pregnant chicks. I can remember Blu with Phillip. How the fuck does a nigga survive?
Chapter 27
ROCKWELL.
Dang, I look over at all the people at this party. It all started with Toi. She wanted to invite a few people from school. The boys wanted to swim. Little Lorenza has my heart, always telling me she’s waiting for the twins. So I helped her pick a red-and-white polka dot bathing suits just for this party. Lorenzo called up some people. The goons that have been lurking around, aka “Keeping us safe from God knows what,” we're all too happy to invite these loose coochie hoes.
“Damn Blu, you looking all crunchy. You might as well go into the main house with Mama Rita and watch TV.” I smirk as she steps up to me. I can't believe she just blew off Popeye right after I sent him over.
“Why you putting all that Cocoa Butter on yo’ fat ass belly, Rocky. Keep on and you’re short ass is going to slip away,” she chuckles. “I guess that would work, so you aren’t running around in ev
erybody bidness.”
“Ha ha ha. I don't want any stretch marks.” I look over at all the people here. This is really the first time we've socialized with anybody since Rita tried to kill Santi a few months back. I can accept Lorenzo's hustle but these hoes migrate like ants. They have me sipping back my virgin daiquiri like it’s really doing something.
“Blu,” I begin since this heifa isn’t chatty as usual. “I don't know what you going through. You've always been secretive but I swear you ain't getting no divorce.”
“How you tell it?” Blu smirks, tossing back a shot of tequila.
“You and Popeye are going to be the godparents for the twins,” I reply, patting my belly.
“We are?” she starts all excited, and then shrugs. “Just wait awhile before you tell Popeye.”
“Why?” Damn, is my bestie trying to get rid of her man? Before I can get Blu to speak, Lorenzo comes up and sips my drink.
“That's right. Better be some real fruit in that.” He hugs me and grabs my booty.
“Stop it.” I smile as these hoes watch me. Blu slips away. That's a’ight. She and Popeye will be together for the long haul, like me and Lorenzo. So lemme get this hood love real quick then I will think of some other way to get Blu and Popeye back together. Lorenzo tongues me down so good that the party, hoes, and loud ass music all fades away.
“Damn, mommi.” Lorenzo kisses me on the ear and says something in Spanish.
“Renzo, what you say?” I ask, biting my lip.
“I’ma have to chop you down right here,” he grins, pearly white teeth making me wet.
“Nah, nigga, you said something about love,” I wave him off.
Shouting comes from the house. This speaker system is amazing; with the music surrounding us so I know whatever is going on has to be active.
My first thought is Santiago and Rita. The only words she will say about him is “if he stays in his lane, I’ll stay in mine…” But Mama Rita sounds so damn ominous saying them that this can be nothing but her. I had seen him arrive. Matter fact, he’s the one that brought most of these hoes.
“Stay here,” Lorenzo orders as I start to get up.
Whateva, I think, shifting my big belly to rise up slowly as my man is gone in a flash
“Listen to your man, Rocky,” Blu says, moving through the crowd that are tryna be nosy. She and Popeye start for the kitchen's sliding glass doors. I'm left with beer bottles and trash; damn, even the kids went to go see. It takes me a second, and one of these babies is bruising my ribs, but I get up.
Chapter 28
RITA.
Time to bang on this stupid muthafucka. I stand at the door, with my hand raised. “Get the fuck out my house!” I shout at the bitch that decided to grace the welcome mat. Olivia has golden skin and hair all down her back. She is beautiful as can be with a newborn baby. The bitch had the nerve to get all dressed up, in a white bikini with a silver sarong. Is she trying to get some dick or see Lorenzo about this bastard baby? It's beyond me.
“This is Lorenzo Medina Junior,” Olivia says again.
“The fuck it is.” Damn, I’m slightly ashamed at cussing in front of a newborn, but this trick has balls for trying to roll through here. I was the only one in the house; I lock the door each time somebody arrives for the party. Was just sitting in the den, sipping on some Brandy and thinking about the ol’ days.
“But Rita–”
“Nah, that ain't my son’s child! You come over here soon as you heard my son was having a function. Lemme see, yeah! I bet it’s because Lorenzo won’t even answer your calls. Trick, you tryna run them pockets, but Medina pockets stay on lock!” Every time I look in the kid’s eyes I get angrier and angrier. Poor thing just sits in his car seat on the floor, crying and crying.
This isn't like with Junior. I knew from jump that Rockwell had given birth to my blood. My blood. But I can see the type of woman Olivia is. With a whore for a momma. Yeah, I knew this bitch’s momma back in the day. The daddy can be hundreds of dudes.
“I'm not leaving till I see Lorenzo!” Olivia tries to come in when people start to crowd around the doorway to look at her pathetic ass.
“You need to go!” one of my son’s goons says.
Toi is just coming downstairs in her bathing suit, looks the woman up and down. She gets off the phone from giving one of her new school friends directions. “Moms, just let her in so we can settle this.”
“No!”
The lady points two fingers at me. She means to curse me.
“No ma!” Toi grabs me from slapping the dog shit out of Olivia! God, how could my son fuck with one of these Santeria types of tricks?
“Moms, how you look beating on this lady in front of her baby?” Toi says, she probably thinks Olivia is speaking Spanish or something because this is one of my only children that only know English.
The bitch chants get louder and more people start coming out. There's a crowd in our large entryway.
“Olivia?” Lorenzo makes his way through the crowd and her words stop.
But with my big hips, I stand up tall. “Get this fucking bitch out my face. Let me school you on something, Olivia,” I say. “Santeria, I know. For 40 years I have known. Go disappear somewhere you, and your bastard. For blood of my blood, well, that lil’ nigga is not!”
“Lorenzo, this is your child. Look at him,” Olivia picks up the baby from the car seat and gives my son all her attention. Knowing what I said is true. I just stand there and look at Lorenzo too. Does this bitch know I have Jesus? Can’t put no hex on me! Now her life is marked. Days are short for Olivia, if she ever tries and that is a muthafuckin’ warning.
“Mommi, that ain't my son,” Lorenzo tells her gently. I know he wants to get the crowd away and have the bitch step off before Rockwell comes around. “C’mon Oli, you need to leave.”
“Lorenzo Junior is your son,” she simpers as he hands her the car seat.
“Bitch, you had the nerve to name that kid after me.” Lorenzo finally looks pissed, but he keeps looking at the baby in her hands. Damn my son has a heart for children, so he hasn’t handled the situation like he should.
“Please...” She starts crying, those pretty tears that makes Lorenzo follow. I shake my head.
When I turn around the crowd is still there. My brother smiles from a distance. Yeah, this nigga is scared to step to me, but he loves to feed off chaos.
“What's going on?” Rocky says, finally making it through the crowd and rubs Junior’s shoulders like a good mom. Good thing the boy was too short to see over all the lurkers. He doesn’t even know Lorenzo went out the front door.
“Nothing now,” Toi says.
“Where's Lorenzo?” She asks
“He had to go,” Toi adds before I can tell the truth.
There’s one thing I know, the truth is always better than the sweetest lie. But I look back at the door and Lorenzo is gone with Olivia. I’m still pissed about that Santeria bullshit, so I’ll let Lorenzo dig his own grave.
Chapter 29
TOI.
Ain't even at school for ten minutes before I'm walking back out. My short pleated skirt is cute and all but this blouse and tie are killing me. I yank the tie off and unbutton my blouse while heading toward the Maybach at the end of the corner. This area looks straight out of the hood. Hoover has its good parts and bad. But in Colombia, you can be on gold lined streets on one block then take the wrong turn and the streets have potholes with some type of cat-rat scurrying around.
The back door opens and I slip inside onto butter-soft seats. “Sup Tio.”
“Hola, sobrina–niece.” Santiago pats my thigh.
“Are we going shopping?” I ask, squirming in the seat, but Santi’s hand doesn’t move.
“Yeah... So how is it going at your new home? Settled in well? Lorenzo taking care of you?”
“Yeah.” I breathe easy as my uncle finally settles his old ass on his side of the seat. I hadn’t seen him in months since my momma’s fiasco.
Then at last week’s party, he told me happy belated birthday and that he’d been out of town. Today we’re supposed to get me a gift since he also doesn’t know how to shop for teen girls.
“How's that beautiful mom of yours?”
“Nope.” I cut him off real quick. “Really, you don’t have to buy me anything you don’t want to.” I was going to ditch today, whether I got something or not.
“I just–”
I look at him through narrowed eyes. “This ain’t how the convo is going to play out. Didn't I tell you my moms was not finna be not one subject of our convo?”
Too bad I snapped at his old ass. Fuck respect. This nigga is going to learn, I will fuck over my whole family. Fuck Lorenzo for getting my boyfriend killed. Fuck Rocky because she started this mess with the Italians. Blu and I haven’t been close since she became a crackhead. Lakitha was always a bookworm, so its whateva with her too. Lorenza is still in elementary school, so its whatever for her fat ass too. But my moms? Nah, she gave birth to me.
He chuckles. “All I'm saying is you were so tiny when you're family left Colombia. Toi, you were such a beautiful girl, like my sister.”
“Yes, thank you,” I reply with a smirk.
“I admire how well she raised you all.”
“Um hum,” I look out the window as we start toward the tourist mall. It’s a five level set of shops with everything from hood apparel to Rockwell’s favorite French facial products.
“How's your father? What's his name again, Henry?”
“Go ask that nigga how he is. But you gotta find him first.” I fold my arms.
“Let's go shopping then you can tell me more about the altercation between that beautiful Olivia girl and your brother.”
Loving a Colombian Cartel Thug 2 (Loving a Columbian Cartel Thug) Page 8