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I dragged her ass up by the front of the dress she was wearing. Once she was up, I slammed the trunk closed and shoved her body into the back of the car. With her in the trunk and me standing outside of it, I felt like we were too far apart. I needed to be all up in this bitch’s personal space because I needed her to feel me and know that I wasn’t fuckin’ around.
“Look me in my fuckin’ eyes right now and tell me that Khari is my daughter,” I said with my hand around her neck, but I wasn’t squeezing.
Her answer would determine if I would continue to apply pressure or not. She never answered my question. She just burst into tears, which told me everything I needed to know. I blacked out. At this moment, I no longer saw Denim as the woman who carried a beautiful ass little girl for me. I saw a fuckin’ enemy. I saw a fuckin’ fraud ass bitch, and I was trying to rid her of her air plug, so I could kill this bitch.
“Billion! No! No! What the fuck are you doing! Your kids are in there, asshole! Stop it, Billion!” I felt Twinkle behind me, trying to pry me off her, but it wasn’t working.
Twinkle was only trying to stop me because she didn’t know what the fuck was going on. If she knew the real reason I was trying to kill this bitch, she would more than likely be trying to assist me in taking this hoe out.
Eventually, I felt stronger arms on me, and whoever was pulling me this time got my hands from around her neck. This was Denim’s second time tonight cheating death because, at that moment, my mission was to kill this bitch. I swear, I wasn’t sparing this hoe.
I looked behind me to see who it was, and it was Monterius. His face held a serious expression mixed with confusion as he more than likely tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. Denim was on her ass, struggling to breathe, and I was trying to get to her ass, but Monterius wouldn’t let me.
“Billion, calm the fuck down. This shit ain’t worth it, nigga, and—”
“Motha fucka, don’t tell me what ain’t worth it when you don’t know what the fuck is going on, yo! This silly bitch just let me know that Khari is not even my daughter! You still think it ain’t worth it? Get the fuck off me, yo!” I spat, moving his hands off me because he was keeping a nigga from getting to this bitch.
Out of nowhere, the doors to the hall opened, and I saw my parents making their way over to us. Somebody was probably outside, and they caught what was going on, so they ran back and told. I was breathing hard, sweating like a motha fucka, as I stared down at this lying ass, manipulative ass bitch.
I wasn’t a perfect man, and I had done did my fair share of shit over the years, but I would never in my fuckin’ life do nobody like this, yo. How the fuck was this shit even okay? You led me to believe that little girl was mine for the past five fuckin’ years. I had a bond with my daughter that was so fuckin’ special. It’s like, what the fuck does she get out of this shit? Because once it’s all said and done, only two people got hurt at the end of this shit, and that was Khari and me.
My mama rushed over, and once she was close enough, she looked over at Denim and then at me. My mama knew I would never put my hands on a woman unless my hand was forced, which is why she wasn’t jumping down my throat, demanding to know why I had put my hands on Denim. Ain’t nobody know me better than my mama, so she had to know that I was pushed.
“What the hell is going on? They told me you were out here trying to kill this girl! What’s going on, Billion?” my mama asked, still looking from me to Denim.
Denim was on her ass, and what was making me even angrier was that this bitch had the nerve to still be crying. She caused this fuckin’ mess! What the fuck was
she crying for? Fuck ass hoe was only crying because she had gotten caught, that’s it!
“Tell her why you crying, Denim! Tell her why I’m two seconds away from killing your ass!” I barked at her.
She didn’t answer me quick enough, and I finally got out of the hold that Monterius still had a nigga in, and I rushed her ass. I ain’t hit her, but I damn sure grabbed her ass up. She screamed when I did that and flailed her arms, kicking her legs and everything, more than likely scared that I would put my hands on her again.
“Tell them what the fuck you just told me!” I barked with my face so close to hers that I could smell the liquor her dumb ass had overindulged in.
“Khari is Reggie’s daughter. Billion, I’m so sorry... I’m sorry,” she said, and then she broke down crying.
There was a gasp from behind me when Denim finally revealed that fucked up shit. When she said it, I visualized myself repeatedly slamming her head on the pavement, but I didn’t do it. I took that shit to the chin and stood up. I could feel all eyes on me, and because everyone standing out there knew that I had a temper, I knew they were mentally preparing to restrain me if they had to.
Looking down at Denim one last time, I shook my head and went right back into the party where everyone was still having a good time. I scanned the huge ballroom until my eyes landed on my fuckin’ kids. I’d kill anybody who would try to convince me otherwise. The DJ was spinning that annoying ass “Renegade” song that all the kids listened to these days and did that lil corny ass dance to it. Both Lil Bill and Khari were on the dance floor, and the two of them were killing it.
As much as I wanted my kids to finish having a good time, I walked on the dance floor, grabbed both by their hands, and headed for the door with them. I was taking my kids home with me. This wasn’t the way I wanted to show my kids my new house, but again, I was pushed to do it this way. Their furniture wasn’t scheduled to be delivered until this week, but my furniture was in my room, and I had a big enough bed for the three of us to sleep in.
“Where we going, daddy? I was dancing,” Khari said, looking up at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes of hers.
She was too adorable tonight in her black dress with her long hair pulled up in a bun. The little girl who looked up at me with adoration in her eyes wasn’t even mine. This little girl didn’t even belong to me. She belonged to another nigga. I felt my eyes getting watery. I couldn’t put the shit in words how badly this was fuckin’ me up. I picked Khari up in my arms, and with my free hand, I held onto my son.
At ten years old, I think it kind of registered to my son that something was going on. I felt like he knew his daddy was fucked up about something.
“Why is Mommy crying, Daddy?” Khari asked.
I knew we would have to pass by the commotion again because my car was parked in the same row as Denim’s in the parking lot. There was so much fucked up shit that I wanted to do at that moment. I wanted to have Denim address the truth again and tell this fucked up shit to my son and Khari. I wanted it to come out of her mouth that my kids weren’t even blood siblings. I wanted her to be the one to tell my daughter I wasn’t even her daddy, but I would not stoop that low. Instead, I would be the one to take on this burden for now because I didn’t have a clue how I was going to one day tell my kids the truth.
One thing about me, I didn’t want to ever lie to my kids. My parents never lied to me, growing up. Any question I ever asked, they always answered, even if it was some shit that hurt my feelings.
When I came home from prison, about a week into my freedom, my son wanted to know what I was in prison for, and I didn’t spare him shit. I told him the real because I knew my truth would lead him in the opposite direction, and when he grew up, he wouldn’t make the same fucked up decisions I made.
“I’m taking my kids home with me. You better hope like fuck that I even let you see Khari again. You foul. I won’t disrespect you in front of these kids, but just know you foul,” I told Denim.
