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When his body looked like it had endured the same number of bullets that my uncle endured, I finally walked away from him and went to check the other rooms. I looked under beds, inside closets, inside showers, and everything, but there wasn’t anyone else in the house. By the time I made it back to the front where my dad was, he was already dousing the house in lighter fluid. He was getting ready to burn this motha fucka down.
Damn, watching him do that shit just brought back a flood of memories. In no time, he had both bodies doused, the floors, and pretty soon, he pulled a lighter out of his pocket and lit the floor. What started as a small fire would pretty soon have this entire home in flames. Like nothing even happened, we walked out of the house and took the same walk that we’d taken to get there.
“This don’t make me feel no better, but at least I handled who was responsible for killing my brother. Malcom was supposed to have buried me, not the other way around. Get home safe, son,” was all he told me, and then he disappeared back into the darkness.
I could look into his eyes and tell that my dad wasn’t okay. I had never really seen him that state before. It was hard for me to even reach my arms out or anything to give him a hug because, shit, I was hurting too. Imagine the hurt that would come later this week when we had to plan his funeral.
Feeling defeated, I hopped in my car, and as I pulled out, I could see the house in the distance as the fire rose higher and higher. I was surprised when I looked down at my phone, and my wife hadn’t called or texted me. I think it kind of hit her last night that I would do what I had to do and that my mind was made up, whether she agreed with the shit or not. It was after midnight, so she was more than likely sleeping anyway.
On the way home, I had to pass by the park that my uncle owned, and I won’t even lie, a nigga shed a couple of tears when I passed by it. Just the other day, I was out there with him, chopping it up. It was so crazy the way God worked, man. He knew I would lose my uncle within a matter of days after we linked up, and that’s why He put me in a position to go over to the park and see him in the first place.
The tears fell, and I didn’t even bother to wipe them. All I could think about was how I had warned my uncle that night about trusting the bitches that he ran around with, and now look what the fuck happened. He left behind no kids, no grandkids, nothing, so there would be no one to carry on the legacy of his business. I didn’t know shit about training no young boys to get them to become a star track athlete. What I did have was money, so I could probably hire some coaches because I couldn’t let everything that he built just go down to shits like that.
I eventually made it home and pulled my car in behind Normani’s Tesla. My wife now had two cars parked in the driveway, although she had three in total. She kept the pink G-wagon at the townhouse. The same townhouse that was being put on the market. Although I was going through what I was going through, I didn’t want to pause the pr
ocess of Normani selling the townhouse. Nor did I want to stop shit from getting in motion for the home that my wife really wanted.
I got out of the car and walked up the driveway. Seconds later, I let myself in the house. I could smell whatever Normani had cooked earlier, but I had no appetite to eat anything, so I just kicked my shoes off at the bottom of the stairs and did a light jog up to the second floor. None of my kids were there tonight, so the house was super quiet. Both of my kids liked to sleep with the TVs on in their rooms at night, but as I walked through the hallway to get to my room, I heard none of that.
I made it to my bedroom, and the TV was on, but it was muted. I gazed over at my wife, who was sleeping on my side of the bed like she always did whenever I wasn’t around when she fell asleep. She was peacefully sleeping, and before I rid myself of my gun and set it on the dresser, I walked over and kissed her on her forehead. I made my way into the closet, where I set my gun on top of the dresser and shed my clothes, so I could go into the bathroom and take a quick shower. Once I was standing under the showerhead, I let the water beat down on my back.
I felt like no matter what, bad shit would continue to happen. No matter how good of a man I was becoming, no matter how much I was progressing as a father, bad shit just had a way of following a nigga. I wanted to get to a point where I could go a whole month without some fucked up shit happening. I needed to pray a little longer and speak a little louder because when I asked God to watch over me and mine before I went to bed at night, I didn’t know if He was hearing me.
I finished with my shower and stepped out, wrapping the towel around my waist. It took me another ten minutes to finish in the bathroom, and then I walked out in only my briefs and headed to the bed. I turned the TV off with the remote and climbed in, scooting Normani over, so I could have some space to lie down. She stirred in her sleep when I did that, and I turned her around, so her back was facing me, and I was able to spoon her.
I let my head rest in the crook of her neck, and I could feel her planting soft kisses on my arm that I had wrapped across her. She was in bed naked, and her soft body felt like butter in front of mine. I felt the dampness still in her hair, and I could smell the avocado shampoo that she used whenever she washed it.
“Is it handled?” her soft voice asked me.
I didn’t respond because I didn’t want to talk to my wife about street shit. She turned around in my arms and faced me, laying her head on the same pillow as me as she gazed up in my eyes. It was dark as fuck in the room, but I still saw her.
“You don’t have to answer that. I’m just glad you made it back home safe. I knew that if I stayed up, I wouldn’t do anything but worry myself sick about you, so I pretty much forced myself to go to sleep. I prayed that God would be a shield of protection over you tonight for whatever you were going to get out there and do. I know that I can’t say or do anything to make you feel better, so I’ll just continue praying for you. I’m sorry that you lost your uncle, baby, but I’m here. You know I’ll always be here for you, right?” her soft voice asked as she reached up and smoothed the side of my face.
“I know, ma. Go back to sleep. Ima be aight,” I said.
She leaned up and kissed me a couple of times on my lips.
“I love you,” she told me.
“I love you more,” I let her know, and she fell back to sleep in a matter of two minutes, while it wasn’t that easy for me.
Even when I did get to a point where I felt myself about to doze off, I couldn’t get into a good enough sleep. I tossed and turned for the rest of the night.
“Girl, I can’t believe your ass is finally up. I won’t even lie; I was beginning to lose faith and lose my mind at the same damn time. Khari would be in here in the bed with you, and she would be putting her hands on your eyes, trying to force them open and everything. That little girl is a damn mess right there. She’s the reason why I don’t want a damn daughter. My ass would be in jail if I had to deal with a slick ass mouth like hers all the time,” I joked to Denim as I sat with her in her hospital room.
She laughed at what I said because I was sure she knew that everything I said was true. It had been almost a week since she woke up from her coma, and this was my third time coming to see her. I just wanted to come and keep her company because she had been telling me how bad she was ready to go back home. She had to show progress in her strength, though, which she really wasn’t showing because Denim didn’t want to work with the nurses and the therapists.
I didn’t want to speak on it, but I felt that Denim was going through depression. It’s like, she’s been locked out of the world for almost three months, and when she woke up, life had gone on without her. I had been around to witness when Khari would go on and on about her father’s wife, Normani. Khari was only five years old, and she didn’t really understand the things that were taking place right in front of her. All she saw was a bonus mother that she’d gained in Normani and another little brother or sister on the way. Denim probably looked at it as her daughter finding interest in another woman while she had been in a coma.
I wasn’t sure if her feelings for Billionaire still ran deep, but she woke up, and the man was literally married, with a whole new baby on the way. If it was depression that Denim was fighting, I just wanted to be there to help her kick this shit. She looked really pretty today. Her mother had given her dreads a re-twist earlier in the week, so they were freshly done and pulled into a bun. It’s like her dreads just kept getting longer and longer. She wasn’t dressed in the plain, ugly hospital gown either. In fact, she’d already had her bath for the night, and she was in two pieced Victoria Secret pajamas.
My son had come to the hospital with me, and we stopped to pick up food for the three of us, but Denim had barely touched the food that I’d fixed for her. It was just the three of us in the room. Since all this happened, this was the first time that I’d come to the hospital, and her mother wasn’t here. Although she would probably never admit it, I knew her mama was glad to sleep in her own bed tonight. For almost three months, she’d been sleeping on the hospital couch as a bed.
“That’s why I’m praying to God that this one is a boy. I’ve been up for what? Five days, and Khari done already told me enough stories to last a damn lifetime. She just be involuntarily telling me information that I really don’t need to know about. I learned from her about Billion being married and having a baby on the way. Girl, and if I have to hear another damn story about a fuckin’ Normani, I’m going to pull out my damn teeth,” Denim told me, and I laughed.
I won’t even lie, the first time my son spent the night over at his dad’s house and Normani was there, he went on and on about Normani. Hurt my little feelings when he bragged about Normani making the best pancakes, or whatever else he was telling me about. For the longest, it was always Normani this and Normani that. Although I was annoyed about it at first, I had to look at the situation from a different perspective. Normani could have been somebody who my child didn’t like and was fuckin’ with my child. Then again, I would probably just have to beat her ass for that, but Lil Bill vouched for her, which was a good thing because my son took on his father’s attitude, and he hardly liked any damn body.
“That’s why when she comes around, I’m mindful of what I say. She’s like a little damn sponge. After you get home and you start feeling a little bit better and everything, I’m sure the two of you are going to have to meet and—”
