Meant to be Yours

by Sequaia

“What am I looking for?” I grumbled. He totally sent me in here blind.

  I took deep breaths to calm my nerves. Then my eyes slowly scanned the well-decorated office. The mahogany bookshelf housed nothing but books, at least that’s what it looked like.

  “Duh,” I spoke, blowing out a harsh breath as the place to look came to mind. Prentice kept a list of numbers near the phone in his bedroom. Taking a note from track star Natasha Hastings’s book, I sprinted out of the office and into Prentice’s bedroom. I snatched up the book, and right near his mother’s name read, “In Case of Emergency.” I flipped to my name to see what it said and near it was the word “Wifey.” Smiling while ripping his mother’s information out of the notepad, I rushed out the door.

  Pulling up to a nice home just as big as Prentice’s, I double-checked the address noted on the paper against the address put into my GPS, and according to both, I was in the right place. Exiting my car with a purpose, it took me just a few steps to reach the wooden door and ring the bell.

  “Who is it?” someone yelled from the other side of the door. The thick wood wasn’t even enough to make me mistake the voice. This was Tasha’s home.

  “Aúrea.” My voice sounded strong, even though fear rushed through my veins.

  There was a brief moment of silence before I heard the sound of locks being unlatched. The door opened, and my mouth liked to have fallen on the floor. Tasha had always been a pretty woman, gorgeous even. She just had a shitty attitude, which made her ugly. Staring at her now, five years later, I realized that time had been good to her. She didn’t look like she aged at all. Her honey complexion was flawless, with not a mark or wrinkle in sight. Her hair was in a short pixie cut with burgundy highlights. Tasha stood in front of me, looking like she could pass for Halle Berry’s twin.

  “Aúrea, Prentice doesn’t live here. How did you know where I live?” Her face showed confusion and not disgust as I thought it would, even though her tone didn’t sound too welcoming either.

  “I know . . . I came here because, because . . . the police arrested him.”

  “What do you mean he was arrested? Get in here.” She practically pulled me into her home, which was unexpected since I stood in her doorway this long.

  “What did you do?” she asked, and I frowned. This shouldn’t have surprised me. This was the Tasha I knew, the one who thought anything terrible that happened to her son was my fault.

  “I didn’t do anything. Your boyfriend did,” I told her matter-of-factly.

  “My boyfriend?” The puzzled look on her face was there for about two seconds until it turned to a look of guilt.

  “Yes, your boyfriend. He showed up at Prentice’s job with the cops, who arrested him. Before they took him, he told me to tell you and for you to call his lawyer.”

  Watching her closely, I saw her chest heave. She was either panicking or trying to calm her nerves.

  “You can have a seat.” She nodded toward a nice-looking grey sectional as she removed her cell from her back pocket.

  “Monty,” she spoke into the phone.

  Taking her up on the offer, I went and sat down while doing my best to hear the conversation.

  “Prentice was arrested . . . hold on.” She removed the phone from her ear and turned to me.

  “How long ago was he arrested?” she asked me.

  “Um, about an hour now,” I informed her.

  “He was arrested about an hour ago . . . An assault charge . . . Monty, go get my baby, no matter the cost. You know we have it . . . Okay, thank you.” She ended the call.

  I sat there waiting for her to say something else to me. Instead, she began pacing the floor, and for the first time, I saw that we had something big in common—our love for Prentice. Seeing her frantic made me realize that my pain was nothing compared to what she probably felt. She was his mother, the woman who brought him into the world. No way did my pain measure up to hers.

  “Gerald,” she yelled into the phone, pulling me from my sympathizing thoughts, “did you really have my child arrested?” she screamed. “Why would you do that?” she asked, and I wish I could hear his answer. That was the million-dollar question that I’d pay a billion dollars to get the answer to.

  “You deserved it. You stole from his sister—your daughter. You better go to that police station and tell them you made a mistake.”

  Although I could only hear Tasha, she was doing a damn good job from the looks of things, in my opinion. She was setting his ass straight, and it felt good to hear.

  “Listen to me, you dumb ass. I could have probably forgiven you for taking the money, but if you don’t do whatever you need to do to get my son out of jail, I will never forgive your ass, and you won’t see my daughter another day of your life if you don’t end that shit . . . It’s not a damn threat, Gerald.”

  Prentice did have a younger sister, and Tasha bringing her up made me curious about where she was. All the yelling her mother was doing right now, if she were here, she would have made herself known by now.

  “What will it take for you to go down there and tell them you lied?” she asked, finally removing the base from her tone. She now sounded like she was begging, pleading, with him.

  “You seriously don’t want anything to do with your daughter?” her voice cracked, her face full of emotion.

  “Fine. You got that. Just do what you need to do for my son. I’ll call you when the lawyer draws up the paperwork.” She tossed her phone onto the chair across from me, making me jump a little.

  “Between the lawyer and Gerald’s punk ass, my son should be out soon,” she spoke, plopping down on the love seat.

  “Okay,” was the only thing I could think to say.

  “His bitch ass wants to give up his parental rights,” she voiced. I was sure she wasn’t speaking to me, and if I gathered what she’d just said correctly, her baby daddy was a whole bitch. To want to give up his daughter was a real ho move.

  She didn’t bother saying anything else. I watched her staring off into space as we both sat there. I wanted to leave. Yet, I wasn’t in a rush to do so because she was my only connection to Prentice. Since she knew and spoke to his lawyer, she held all the information. The lawyer would call her with the updates first. He wouldn’t call me at all.

  “When did you get back?” Tasha broke the silence between us. Her question was not farfetched, given the five years which separated the last time she and I saw each other. Besides, it came at the right time because as much as I wanted to hear the information, just sitting in her home, staring at the walls would be awkward as hell.

  “A couple of months ago. I returned for my foster . . . Von’s funeral.”

  Her eyes widened at my admission.

  “How are you?” That question caught me off guard. This woman had changed.

  “I’ll be better when Prentice is out of jail.” Sure, her question was regarding Von. I doubted she was ready for that answer, though.

  “So will I. However, my question was concerning your foster parents.”

  Looking at her, I debated in my head whether to be honest with her. Two outcomes could come from my truth. She could believe me, or she couldn’t. The only issue I was having currently was, how much would it bother me if she didn’t believe me?

  “I didn’t go to the funeral because I cared about Von. I went to tell him to kiss my ass.” I was straightforward. The internal battle I was having with whether to tell her was no more as I figured honesty was the best policy. Not only that, but I also wanted her to feel like shit for how she treated me all those years back. The shock from my response was written all over her face, and rather than let her heal from what I just disclosed, I decided it was better to keep speaking since the wound was already opened.

  “Von raped me weekly for five years . . . That’s why I ran away.”

  The gasp from her throat rang in my ears.

  “Did my son know?”

  “He did.”

  “Damn,” she whispered before her head
fell into the palm of her hands. She was getting a lot put on her plate today.

  “Why didn’t you guys come to me?” she asked, and I chuckled, but not because it was funny. The laugh escaped my mouth without any effort from me at all. That was just my natural reaction to her question because she and I both knew she was the least approachable person during those days.

  “You weren’t a fan of mine back then. And with all the gossip going on about me, would you have believed me?”

  “I believe you now,” she stated.

  “Thank you.” Shrugging was another natural reaction. I mean, her believing me now was great. I just wished that she had been the kind of adult I needed back then.

  “My son missed you while you were gone.”

  “I missed him too.”

  “So, are you two back . . . well, are you and my son—”

  “We decided today to give being a couple a shot,” I cut her off.

  “Well, if it’s okay with you, I’d like for us to start over.”

  My eyes met hers, and there was so much sincerity inside of hers that even if I wanted to, denying her that would be so fucked up of me. Plus, my loving Prentice meant loving his mother, as well.

  “I’d like that” flowed smoothly from my mouth, although my heart couldn’t decipher if I were being honest. Maybe I was, and fear kept me from seeing it. The smile she gave me was warm and genuine.

  “Well, all we can do now is wait. Monty is a damn good lawyer, so my son will be home sooner than later. Plus, Gerald’s punk ass said he’d take back the accusation, so he’ll be home soon.”

  “Can I leave you my number to call me with any updates?”

  “Sure, but you’re also welcome to stay. Monty should be at the precinct by now, finding out what he has to do to get Prentice out.”

  “Thank you, but I have to feed his dogs . . . and my friend is visiting from Los Angeles where I moved from, so I need to go check on her. She’s staying at my place.”

  “Oh. Okay, well, sure. Give me your number, and as soon as I hear something, I’ll call you.” She extended her arm with her phone in hand and passed it to me.

  After inputting my number, I stood ready to leave. Being here made me more emotional, and it was only a matter of time before I broke down. Breaking down here was out of the question.

  “Mommy, I’m hungry.” The soft voice of a child came from my right, and there was a little girl, the same complexion as Prentice, standing in a uniform, khaki skirt, and navy polo, rubbing her eyes.

  “Prima, come here, baby.” Tasha stood, arms wide open, meeting the pretty, curly-haired girl halfway.

  “This is Prima, Aúrea. She’s my baby girl, Prentice’s little sister.” Tasha made the introduction as Prima just lay on her mother’s chest.

  “Nice to meet you, Prima.”

  “You too,” her soft voice brought a smile to my face. She finally made eye contact with me, and she was gorgeous. Long, black lashes, thick, perfectly arched eyebrows, a button nose . . . She was a walking beauty, and for a moment, I imagined having a daughter by Prentice as beautiful as she.

  “Well, I’m going to get her dinner. You make sure to take care of yourself. Prentice is strong. He will be fine and home sooner than later. He’s not going to want you sitting home stressing.”

  Easier said than done. “I know. Please don’t forget to contact me when you hear anything.”

  My hand was finally on the doorknob.

  “I won’t,” she promised.

  Knowing Tasha would update me on Prentice eased some of the weight off my shoulders. Still, until he was out of jail and in my arms, emptiness would consume me. My heart was with him.

  27

  Prentice

  The smell of piss and mothballs entered my nose, causing my stomach to turn. The hard steel underneath me was slowly making my ass and legs fall asleep. With my back against the dirty wall, my eyes scanned the small room. The walls, which I assumed started as white, were filthy grey with handprints and possibly dried shit on them. The ceiling had tissue stuck to it, with pieces that fell sporadically on the concrete floor. I scoffed, thinking that either this room was always occupied or no one cared enough to clean it. There was an old, white man across from me with long grey hair and an even longer grey beard. His clothes were worn and filthy, letting me know that they had thrown my ass in here with a homeless man. He was sleeping on the floor in the corner furthest from me when there was an empty bench right where he was. When he rolled over, I was presented with a whiff of his odor, making me gag. As soon as the stench hit my nose, it not only brought tears to my eyes but also brought back the memory of the dumpster Aúrea and I slept near when we ran away.

  “Damn,” I mumbled, thinking about the look on her face when those punk-ass cops threw me in the back of the police car and drove me away. The heartache she felt was written all over her face, and Gerald’s bitch ass better pray I don’t see him again because he was going to pay for this shit. The difference between his first ass whooping and this next one would be me not making the same mistake of thinking he wouldn’t snitch. So if he had even a tad bit of intelligence, he’d stay far away from me.

  The sound of footsteps heading my way led me to sit up, turning my body slightly so that my back wasn’t toward the homeless dude but also not toward the bars. This holding cell was small as hell but would be used to my advantage if need be. Since being thrown back here, the only person I’d come in contact with was the sleeping, homeless man. This tier wasn’t empty, and niggas were shouting and cussing like it would get them out of here, knowing damn well it wouldn’t.

  “Mayor, Counsel.”

  Hearing my name with the word “counsel” behind it sounded like music to my ears. I’d been here a few hours and was thankful Aúrea could reach my mom, who had quickly reached out to Monty. Though I hadn’t gotten in trouble in a while and had been able to stay off the cops’ radar with my illegal dealings, I kept a lawyer on hand, never missing a payment on the retainer fee . . . just in case. Monty was one of the best defense attorneys in the county. He wasn’t cheap, but today would prove him worth it as long as he got my ass up out of here.

  Standing, I waited for the guard, who looked like he just graduated from college, to open the gate. Once he did, I stepped out of there, hoping I wouldn’t be returning.

  “Can I ask you something?” the guard asked me.

  “What’s up?” I decided to entertain whatever question he wanted to ask because of how young he looked. As I said, he looked like he hadn’t graduated too long ago.

  “You are in here for fighting, but you don’t look like you would even associate with the guy who pressed charges on you.”

  “That’s ’cause he not the kind of nigga I associate myself with,” I shrugged.

  “I figured that,” he said, stopping at the door at the end of the hall and opening it for me.

  I stepped inside, and my eyes immediately met Monty sitting at the table looking through some papers. There was nothing for me to say to the young guard because the small talk we had was pointless anyway. Especially since he wasn’t saying shit to help me get out. What he thought surely was not going to post bail for me. I looked over my shoulder, providing him a look that said he could get lost, and he recoiled a bit before shutting the door. Shaking my head, I stared at Monty for another second before speaking.

  “Monty, what’s up?” I spoke, bringing his attention from the papers to me. Whatever he was reading better be in favor of getting my ass up out of here. He stood, extending his hand for mine. I liked Monty because he looked me in the eyes when he spoke and when he greeted me with a shake.

  “Prentice, I got here as soon as I could after your mother called,” Monty informed me before taking a seat. I was sure that every cop in this building felt intimidated when he walked his expensive ass in here. The other thing I liked was his intimidating appearance. He walked like he could fuck up anyone who challenged him. Monty was an older cat whose ethnicity was Indian
and Asian. He had taken his height and complexion from the Indian side, while his facial features and sharp mind showed signs of his other side.

  “So what’s the word? Am I getting out of here?”

  “You’ll be out as soon as you go before the judge. Unfortunately, that won’t be until first thing in the morning. The judge’s presiding—”

  “That’s some bullshit. How niggas be bailing out on the same day?” I scoffed, really puzzled as fuck.

  “Your charges are the reason you’re not able to bail out tonight. However, tomorrow, you will be out. I ran into your accuser, an, uh, Gerald Campbell, who said he would drop the charges. He can’t do that without speaking to a judge.”

  “My mom must have gone off on his bitch ass.”

  “Not sure, but with him saying that you did not attack him, they will have no reason to hold you. You’ll pay a small fine for wasted time and then be set free.”

  “Why his bitch ass can’t pay the fine? I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him.” I sucked my teeth, becoming more irritated with this crooked-ass system.

  “He should have to. However, once he takes back the charges, I’m going to ask that he be held accountable for filing a false police report. For that, he’ll get jail time or pay a fine.”

  “Nah, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to seem like I turned rat on his ass.”

  “That’s not what it’ll look like at all. Besides, you don’t want to make the judge feel like he was threatened to renege, rather than to do so on his own recognizance.”

  “Do what you gotta do then, man.” I blew out an exasperated breath.

  “Have you gotten your first phone call yet? You should have been able to call me,” he informed me.

  “Hell, nah, I didn’t.” I gave Aúrea instructions to take care of everything for me, so my phone call had slipped my mind because I trusted her to do precisely what she’d done.

  “Well, they still owe it to you. So you can call your mother and let her know you’re okay. I still plan to call her and tell her everything as well. I’m sure she’ll want to be here to pick you up once you’re released in the morning.”