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My father, the minister, the man of God, slapped the hell out of me. Instantly, my eyes watered because the force behind the slap was powerful. My hand went to my face, holding it in the same place where he’d just slapped me. The look on his face showed me how pissed off he was at me. A lone tear fell from my eye. It wasn’t even that I was crying because the slap hurt. I was crying because I was shocked by his actions.
“It hasn’t even been five months that you’ve been dating this fool, and he’s already changing you and having you disrespect your own father!” he spat, trying to play the victim.
I walked around him and to my house door, which was what I should have done from the beginning when I saw him sitting on the porch, waiting for me to come home.
“You’re so worried about a man putting his hands on me, but look what you just did. You are no longer welcome here. If someone ever asks me about you, I’ll let them know that you’re dead! There! I just made this a little bit simpler for us both. By the way, I hate you!” I said, tears falling from my eyes as I spoke out of anger to him.
I could tell from his eyes that my father was hurt behind the things I’d just said to
him, but his hurt couldn’t even compare to the way I felt. I finally had my key in the hole, and I went into the house, then locked the door and disarmed the alarm with my key fob.
Yeah, I cried about it. As I walked into the kitchen to get a bottle of water out of the fridge, I had a whole break down. I just couldn’t understand how my father was so bothered by something that I was doing with my life. He was acting like I had a history of messing up, and I just kept letting him down. All my life, I had done every single thing this man had ever asked me to do. I knew he was going home to give my mother his version of the story, making himself the victim, but I didn’t even care.
I eventually got myself together and headed for the stairs. When I made it into my bedroom, the light on my nightstand was on, so it wasn’t like I had to walk into a pitch dark room. I did, however, need a little bit more light, so I flicked on the wall switch, which lit up my whole bedroom. My heels were in my hand, and I walked into my closet and placed them back in the tannish colored Christian Louboutin box.
From the closet, I made my way into my bathroom, so I could fill the tub. I needed a nice, relaxing bath. My music played lightly through the Bluetooth speakers I had installed in my bathroom ceiling. Once the water was nice and warm, filled with bubbles to how I liked it, I stripped out of my clothes and got inside.
My phone rested on the side of the tub, and Billionaire hadn’t called me yet or texted. I didn’t want to come off like I was desperate for a phone call or anything, so I would not call or text him first. The second I laid back in the tub, my phone buzzed. I quickly sat up, but when I looked at the phone, it was Twinkle calling me. I slid my damp finger across the phone screen, answering the call for her and putting it on speaker.
“Hey,” I answered.
“What did those bitches say to you? Why did you run off?” she asked.
I could hear the loud music in her background, so she was more than likely still at the party.
“Nothing that I feel like talking about right now. I had just relaxed after getting into it with them, and then when I got home, my dad was here, and we exchanged words. So, it isn’t anything that I want to talk about right now. Is the party still going on? Where is your cousin?” I just asked because it was the first thing I wanted to ask once I answered the phone for her.
“Yes. I’m getting ready to leave, though. I heard one of Billionaire’s friends say that Monterius is on the way, so I’m heading out. I cannot force myself to be around that nigga. I’m liable to pick up one of these bottles off the table and crack his head open. My mama said that she saw Billionaire outside chasing behind you, so he’s probably still out there. Knowing him, he’s out there smoking, but hold on, let me see. I’m almost to the door,” she said.
Suddenly, the music stopped playing, which let me know that she had made it outside.
“Oh, my God! What the fuck! Billion!” I heard Twinkle scream, which had me panicking because I didn’t know what was going on.
“Twinkle! What!? What happened?” I screamed in her ear.
“He’s out here choking Denim. I’ll call you right back. Let me get to him before he kills that girl,” she said.
“Wait! Don’t hang up!” I said, but it was too late. She had hung up the phone.
“Bitch, what the fuck did you just say?” I barked, scaring the shit out of Denim’s ass.
I know I did because I saw her jump. I was right up on her. So fuckin’ close that my dick was damn near poking her ass. I needed to be this close because if she repeated the shit that I thought she said, I would have enough room to choke this bitch out, throw her in the back of her trunk, and dispose of her ass. Drunk or not, I needed her to repeat what the fuck she just said. I felt my body shaking. I mean, I was shaking to the point that I was sweating, and the sweat was getting in my eyes.
In just a matter of minutes, I went from having the best tasting pussy juices in my mouth to suddenly having a foul taste as I heard Denim’s words repeatedly playing in my head. As I stood behind my baby mama, I felt like I was standing behind an enemy whose life I was getting ready to end. If I killed Denim, it wouldn’t be my first body. If I ever killed before in my life, it was because of some foul, fucked up shit that has been done to me. If Denim repeated herself, she would fit the description perfectly of doing some foul, fucked up shit.
“Get the fuck from behind me, Billionaire! Go harass that bitch and leave me the fuck alo—”
I shut her up instantly because both my hands were around her neck. I flipped her ass, throwing her in the trunk of her car but never letting go of her neck. Her long nails were digging into my face, trying to get me to let go, but I wouldn’t.
“This ain’t got shit to do with my bitch! This got everything to do with you and what the fuck you just said! You may have some liquor in you, but that don’t make you stupid! I heard what you said, and I need you to repeat it! Is Khari mine, or does she belong to that nigga?” I spat with hurt and anger evident in my voice as I thought about that beautiful ass little girl at the party, who was playing and dancing with all her other little cousins.
If Denim told me that Khari wasn’t mine, it would hurt me before it angered me. My kids were my fuckin’ life. A nigga came home from prison, and I had been moving so fuckin’ different since my feet hit the pavement. I’m trying to give my kids some shit to look up to, especially my son, because I ain’t want him to have to hustle like I did. For it to even be a chance that Khari didn’t belong to me, that shit fucked with me so bad that a tear did fall from my eye, and I didn’t even bother to wipe it away.
Denim’s eyes rolled like I was losing her, so I let go because I couldn’t kill her before I found out the truth. I let go, and she started coughing.
“Answer me, Denim! You know me! You know when I’m angry, nothing fuckin’ matters, yo! I don’t give a fuck about shit right now! All I need you to do is to repeat what the fuck you just said. That way, I don’t fuck around and kill yo’ black ass by accident!” I spat.
“I… I was… I was just talking. I ssss.. said that out of anger,” she said, but I didn’t believe her.
