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I stood there, mesmerized by the prettiest set of chocolate titties that I’d ever seen in my fuckin’ life. Yet, she sat there, looking down the barrel of the gun from a 6’6”, 295-pound nigga. I knew she had to have been scared shitless. If she had a gun and I didn’t have one, I would have been dead seconds ago because just like a nigga, I was letting the sight of some pussy blind me.
“What the fuck! Why the fuck are you in here? I’m calling the police,” she yelled and tried to reach for her cellphone that was on the nightstand next to her, but I rushed her and slapped it out of her hand.
I tackled her little ass, throwing her down on her back while I stayed on top of her. I could smell her fear. She was naked, exposing her entire body for me. Her shit was nice. Her body looked nothing like one that had birthed a child. She was perfect, man. She looked up at me with eyes that screamed her fear and anger. I could see why Trip would be ready to kill a whole fuckin’ village over her ass.
“Where the fuck that nigga at?” I questioned.
“You’re fuckin’ sick! Trip made you do this? You’re looking for a nigga who has absolutely nothing to do with you! If I never thought that you wanted to suck Trip’s dick, I definitely think so now—”
Pow!
I punched her right in her fuckin’ mouth. Swear I tried to knock out a few teeth when I did it. She screamed, and her hands immediately went for her mouth where I’d just punched her. She kicked, screamed, and cried, trying to fight her way off me, but I wasn’t letting up.
“That’s what Trip should have done to your ass a long fuckin’ time ago! Miami got every
fuckin’ thing to do with me. Trip can’t handle that nigga because he’s behind those fuckin’ walls, and me, being my brother’s keeper, I gotta handle the shit for him. Ima ask you again, where that nigga at?”
She was still crying and holding her mouth, which was leaking like a flood. I had decked her ass good.
“Bitch, you don’t hear me talking to you?” I asked, pulling her by her hair and making her sit up in the bed.
This was what Trip meant earlier on the phone when he mentioned that he knew what type of nigga I was. It was no secret that I was the type of nigga to stomp a bitch out. I mean, I didn’t go around looking for bitches to put my hands on, but if one ever tried me, I made it my duty to knock their asses out and put them right back into their fuckin’ place.
“Get the fuck off me! Get off meeee!” she screamed and kicked her legs.
She fucked around and kicked me in my balls. On instinct, I swung the gun and started pistol whipping her ass with it. Never mind the pain that I was in because I was beating this bitch’s ass. I fucked her up all around this bedroom, and she fought back. Everything in my head was telling me to shoot this bitch, but I knew that Trip would have me killed. That is, if he didn’t have me killed for putting my hands on her.
“Police! Put your hands in the air!” I heard from behind me.
Like a nigga who got caught with his dick out, I shoved her ass into the wall, dropped the gun, and stood up. Like that bitch was fuckin’ royalty, the cops rushed to her aid, whereas the other cops in the room came over and slammed my black ass down. I swear them crackas were kneeing me in my back and everything as they placed the handcuffs on me.
All the while, I heard Shae off in the distance crying like I shot her stupid ass. When they stood me up, I was able to look at her, and there was so much blood on her face that she looked unrecognizable. Walking out of the bedroom, my eyes landed on another picture of Vonte. This time, it was a picture of him when he was maybe four or five years old. Just like the one from downstairs, he was mugging on this picture. It’s like he was showing me that he saw what I’d done.
All I could do was shake my head. I should have listened to those voices in my head that were telling me to leave her ass alone because now this shit just might cost me my life. Word traveled so fuckin’ fast around Miami that I knew Trip would find out about this shit. On top of that, Shae was going to tell that nigga on me.
Trip was the type of nigga that you should fear, not just because I knew him personally, and I knew what he would do to a person who fucked with people he loved. It was just the mere fact that this nigga was doing a life sentence, and he had nothing to lose.
Toddrick “Miami” King
I went to New York today on business. Like a thief in the night, I was in and out. With this fight coming up, I had been in and out doing a lot of press, and truth be told, if the shit wasn’t for a good cause, I would have been tapped out on this shit. It was hard enough that I already had to fight for the first time since my mom’s passing, then I had to deal with all this other shit.
I wanted Shae to go with me, but she explained that she had too much work at the job to take off, and I understood that shit. Shae had just got back to work a couple of weeks ago after missing months when Vonte died. Besides her beauty, her bomb ass personality, and everything else that she possessed, I swear I liked the way she got up and took her ass to work in the morning. I could take care of shorty for ten lifetimes, but she didn’t want me to.
I told her to transfer all the bills to me, so I could pay her mortgage and whatever else she had, but she wouldn’t let me. I loved that fuckin’ woman, man. I was on a private jet right now, maybe about thirty minutes away from landing, and all I could think about was picking up my daughter and going to see my girl.
Taniya damn near cried, begging me to let her spend the night with Shae, but my dad wanted her. He hadn’t gotten to see her as much because if I wasn’t working, I was up under my shorty, and Taniya would be right with us. I loved the fact that Taniya liked Shae. It was one thing for me to like Jashae, but I swear it was a whole other thing for my daughter to like her.
My daughter had been staying with me full time for two months, and Tahira was flying down next weekend to see her. I wanted to let Tahira meet Shae at that time. There were no ifs, ands, or buts that I was going to marry Shae, so I felt that it was only right that I allowed Tahira to see the woman who I had around our child.
I sat on the private jet by myself except for the two flight attendants who were on board along with the pilot. I held a glass of Hennessey in my hands. My phone started buzzing in my lap, and I looked down, just to see that it was Jabari calling. This nigga was going to stress me the fuck out. It was a domino effect with this pregnancy. Mahogany was stressing him out, then he came calling me, stressing me the fuck out.
I was proud that his ass was going to be a daddy, but I wouldn’t lie and say that he wasn’t working my fuckin’ nerves! Half the time he called; he was calling to vent. Right now, he was dealing with a woman and her pregnancy hormones. He had a little way to go, so there really wasn’t shit that I could do but keep him motivated. Although I wasn’t there to witness Tahira’s pregnancy, I was there after the fact, and I mean it when I say that those after pregnancy hormones and mood changes are just as bad.
I wanted to ignore the nigga, but for him to be calling me at two in the morning, the shit had to have been serious. I hoped his ass didn’t fuck around and kill Mahogany over there.
“Yo,” I answered the phone and set the cup down.
“Where you at, bruh?” he asked.
