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Although it had been clarified that Billion and Denim had never been in a relationship, that didn’t stop me from hating the bitch. For like the first two years, I couldn’t stand her. When Billion went to prison, which is when Khari was still a baby, I had no choice but to put my ill feelings to the side because, as women and mothers, Denim and I had to step up so the kids could be in each other’s lives.
Fast forward, and here we are, a little bit over five years later, and here I am, on my way to her hospital room, preparing myself for what I would see when I walked through her door. I knew that whatever I saw would not be pretty. Her mother told me she was pistol whipped and in a coma, so I could only imagine how she looked. I can’t even lie, I was scared, which is why I’d dragged my feet to get here.
After the party was over, I went home and took a quick shower then threw on something a little bit more comfortable. I had to choose between going tonight to see Denim or just waiting until morning. From what I knew about Denim, she had little family. It was just her, her mother, and her two daughters. I knew that Denim’s mother could use someone’s shoulder to cry on and someone to just listen to her as she cried it out and talked it out. As tired as I was, I would go and be that for her.
With each step I took, I let out a yawn. I felt like a zombie as I walked through that hospital. I’d been up since five this morning, staying on top of everything, just to make sure my son had the perfect birthday. Not only was I up early, but I didn’t go to sleep until about one this morning because Roheem and I were doing the party bags and everything else that came with getting ready for a big birthday celebration. I shrugged off how I was feeling, especially since Denim and her mother were dealing with way worse than what I felt right now.
I made it to the door, and before I walked in, I knocked lightly.
“Come in,” I heard Denim’s mother lightly call out.
I pushed the door open and walked into the room. It was freezing in there, so I was glad I had dressed in a Juicy Couture sweatsuit because I knew it would keep me warm. Denim’s hospital room was nice and spacious. From where I stood, I saw Denim’s mother standing on the side of her bed, and she was fixing her daughter’s hair.
I was so afraid to see Denim, so I took my time getting to her. Once I was close enough, I rested my purse on the first chair I saw and went over to Denim’s bedside. One look at her and my hands went over my mouth as I silently cried.
Denim and I may not have always seen eye to eye, nor did we always get along, but this right here would make the meanest bitch drop to her knees and cry. It didn’t even look like her. Her face was unrecognizable. There wasn’t a spot on her face that wasn’t bruised. With her eyes closed, I literally saw the black and the blue around both eyes. I saw the way her lips were busted and swollen. There were tubes going down her throat that were just painful to look at.
The sheets were pulled up on her body, stopping at her stomach, and her arms were out. I saw all the scratches and stuff that even looked like bruises from bite marks. There were bruises all around her neck area. Some of her dreads were even missing. From the big bulge at the foot of the bed, where her leg was, I assumed she had to have had a cast or something, and that her leg was broken. When I got a closer look at her face, I saw fresh stitches from the top of her head down to the cheek. I eventually had to stop looking because the more I looked, the more I cried, and part of the reason I came down there was to console her mother.
No one could possibly be hurting more than Denim’s mother. This was her child she was standing over. I couldn’t imagine having to do this with my son.
“I’m sorry for crying. I expected her to be in a bad state, but not this,” I said, bringing my hands up to wipe my eyes.
Denim’s mother was so damn strong. Granted, she’d probably had her time to cry it out, but still. I just knew I would never have half her strength. The second I was standing over my child, looking at him in this predicament, and someone came in crying, I would have broken down too. I saw the hurt in her eyes and everything, but for her to be standing over her daughter, fixing her hair up, I had to admit that I admired her strength.
“It’s okay. I’ve been in here since yesterday with her, and when I say I tore down this whole room, I mean that. On the outside, I look fine, but my insides are going through all types of emotions. I’m screaming, crying, and a part of me even feels like I’m dying inside. This is my only child. Yes, she’s a grown woman, but this is my baby. The only baby that I’ve ever had. I’m beating myself up for this because I blame myself. I saw Denim the morning this happened. I left her home and went to work. I remember kissing her and letting her know that I loved her. When I called her on my break, like I told her I would, and she didn’t answer the phone, it’s like I just knew. My motherly instincts just knew that something had happened, especially since Denim knew I would be calling.
“I remember just leaving the office, crying the whole time. The second I pulled up to the apartment complex, there were police cars out there and an ambulance truck. I just knew they were there for her. I’m telling you, I felt it. From where I was parked, I could see that her apartment door was open. I got out, and her neighbor was there, giving a statement to the police officers. I walked up as she was describing Reggie to them. I’ve never in my life killed anyone. Never even thought of killing anyone, but Sidnesha, I’m telling you right here and right now... that if my baby…” she said, and her voice cracked. Tears flooded my eyes and hers because I knew what she was trying to say.
“If my baby doesn’t wake up from this… I’m going to kill him my damn self,” she said, and then she broke down in tears.
I rushed over to her side and pulled her into me, holding her as she had her moment. I won’t even lie, I cried with her because everything about this moment was just too damn sad. It broke my heart to listen to a mother cry like that over her child, especially for it to just be up in the air whether Denim would live. I knew how to pray, but I wasn’t the best at it. You know, like the people who get so deep into it and they speak in tongues? I couldn’t do that. I did as best as I could, and I prayed out loud for Denim and her mother. My prayer went on for about five minutes, and then the two of us pulled apart. I stayed in the room for about another hour and a half. I was fighting my sleep so bad.
“I know you’re tired, Sidnesha. You can come back in the morning if you’d like. I’m going to go right over here on this couch and shut my eyes for a few hours myself. I know Billion is upset with Denim, but when you talk to him, can you try to convince him to bring Khari down here? The doctor was in here earlier today, and he was telling me how he’s seen a lot of coma cases. He let me know how
Denim is able to hear it all. I just want her to hear her children’s voices, and maybe that will be all the motivation that she needs to wake up. Right now, I have my best friend watching Rylo, but I plan to have her come down here in the morning. I was dreading her having to see her mother like this, but I don’t want to hide it because I’m not sure how long the circumstances are going to be like this. So, yeah, just talk to him if you can,” she said.
I assured her that I would do that, and then I gave her another hug. I went over to Denim, placed my hand over hers for a few moments, and then I left out the room. I knew Billion, and I knew he was only heartless to a certain extent. Right now, he was still mad at Denim, and discovering what she had done was still fresh on him. I knew he wouldn’t be selfish to where he wouldn’t come down to the hospital and see about Denim. I also knew he wouldn’t be selfish enough to not bring Khari. It would take some begging and pleading, but eventually, he would show his face because that’s just the type of real nigga he was.
As for Reggie, I hoped the cops caught up with his ass, and they gave his ass the death sentence. It was one thing to slap Denim upside her head a few times and keep the shit moving, but to pistol-whip her into a coma… that was some pussy shit. I was the type of bitch to never wish prison time on anyone because I saw the way my baby daddy mentally suffered behind that shit when he did his time, so it wasn’t in me to wish that on someone. For Reggie, though, I wanted that nigga to be buried under the damn prison.
It was two in the morning, and I was in the guest room, where I’d set up my office space. I was on a Zoom, listening to a bunch of professionals speak about the flipping house business. They were out in L.A., so it was only eleven at night where they were. Although it was late, it didn’t matter because these were my hours to be up studying, navigating the web, and learning new shit about this rewarding ass business that I had jumped headfirst into. Normani was in my bed, sleeping. She would have to be up in a couple of hours to get ready for work, so I might as well stay up. I liked to be up when she left the house, so I could walk her outside and shit to her car since it would still be dark around the time she left.
Yo, when I say I loved the fuck out of that girl, I mean that shit. I was going through something right now that was so deep, so fuckin’ dark, and she had just been there for a nigga. I hadn’t been the easiest person to deal with because the shit I learned about my daughter just had a nigga on edge. Ever since last week, when Normani came over, and we had sex for the first time, I ain’t want her to go back home. I was holding her ass hostage, really only letting her leave when she needed to get more clothes, and of course, when she had to go to work. I had her and my daughter up under the same roof as me, with my son coming over on the weekends.
My kids adored Normani, which I knew they would because Normani just had good vibes, which was something that I picked up on once I gave her a chance. Although she didn’t have kids of her own, she was so good with my kids, and I knew it had a lot to do with the profession she was in. Normani being here for a nigga was the best shit out of all the fucked-up shit going on.
It had been a week since I learned about Denim being in the hospital. As mad as a nigga was at her, as much as I felt like I hated her, I knew I had to get my ass down to that hospital and see about her. I needed to take Khari too. She told me out of her own mouth that she loved living with me, but she missed her mama. That shit rocked my heart because kids were innocent. They didn’t look at a person and judge them and hate them. With me being mad at Denim, I didn’t want it to look like I was punishing Khari by not letting her see her mother, so I made up in my mind that tomorrow when I picked Khari up from school, I would take her down to the hospital, so she could see her. From what Sidnesha told me, Denim was in a bad state. That’s another reason I had been holding back. I ain’t want to scare my daughter like that by her having to see her mama in that predicament.
I could have pulled out my gun and beat Denim that night, but for what? To land my black ass back in jail? For my daughter to be crying that her mama was in the hospital, and I would be the reason for her tears? I always knew that fuck nigga Reggie was a pussy ass nigga, but this right here just confirmed it. That shit was foul on so many levels, and I didn’t think he knew all the real niggas were not praising him for his actions. We were looking down at that nigga for handling a woman like that. This case was being reported on the news just about every day, and yesterday, the cops raised the price on his head for 50 Gs. I was giving it until the end of the night before one of his homeboys or someone else ratted him out because the shit that people could do with that amount of money was definitely a lot.
I leaned back in my office chair, watching the screen. My camera was on mute because I didn’t trust all this video camera shit with a bunch of people I didn’t know looking at me. I would just join in to get my tips and get the fuck on. As I was listening, I heard footsteps making their way to my office, and I assumed it was Khari because that little girl had a bad ass habit of knocking on my door during the night, trying to get in the bed with Normani and me. I spent all that money on her room for nothing because she would be in my bed more than she was in her own shit. I swear I wasn’t even complaining, though, because I loved it. I just hated the shit when I was trying to bury my dick in Normani’s guts, and Khari comes cockblocking.
I’m telling you, ever since I got the pussy from Normani, I couldn’t stay the fuck out of it. I done had some good pussy over the years, but the shit Normani had between her legs, I swear, another bitch couldn’t even compare. Just to know that another nigga never sniffed her pussy, licked it, or fucked it was enough for her to be number one in my book. Since the day we fucked for the first time, I had been in it every night. Yeah, I was going through some things, but that didn’t stop me from digging inside her any chance I got.
Whoever was making their way down the hall finally made themselves visible. It was Normani standing there, with this sleepy look on her face. She was dressed in a pink and white striped pajama set from Victoria Secret. Her long, curly hair was all out, but she still looked pretty as fuck with the wild hair look that she was sporting right now.
“What you doing up? I thought I put you to sleep hours ago,” I said, referring to the way I’d literally fucked her to sleep.
