POP! POP!
Ricky got on the side of them, and stuck his arm out of the window to bust their tires with his heat. Their Chevy Impala swerved uncontrollably, as Ricky let off another shot, shattering their back windshield.
“Old amateur ass niggas don’t even got bulletproof whips!” Ricky laughed maniacally, as our assassins swerved and hit a pole. It was then I realized why we were alive; Ricky had his shit proofed. He was smart too, because niggas were always on his head. And we would have been some goners right now.
“I’m out of bullets but fuck it,” Ricky commented like it was nothing.
“Nigga what the fuck–“
Ricky hopped out the car with the quickness even though he had no weapon basically, and I followed because I didn’t know how these niggas would retaliate. I wasn’t down with this shit, but I’ll be damned if I let some niggas kill the homie.
“Qamar!” I called him.
“Y’all got it. I ain’t strapped,” he had the nerve to say, before taking the Hennessy to the head.
I caught up to Ricky, who was snatching the dude out of the passenger seat since he was the one letting off rounds. It was then that I saw the driver was none other than Don, the nigga Isla allegedly fucked some years back. Rage traveled throughout my entire body at the sight of him. Initially, I was just following Ricky’s lead, but right now, I had my own vendetta to follow through on.
“For real, bruh?” I moved closer to him, as he stayed seated on the driver’s side, obviously mortified by the brutal ass whooping Ricky was putting on his homie.
Since it was late at night, and we were in the shopping district of Downtown L.A., the streets were pretty deserted except for a few homeless people sleeping or wandering.
“Man—”
“Ain’t no, man, nothing.”
“Get this nigga out!” Ricky barked, and when I looked over at the nigga he’d been beating on, he was lying there looking lifeless. I ain’t know if he was dead or what, but his face looked like raw meat, and Ricky’s shirt was covered in blood. Nigga was lucky he was alive if he was, for trying to kill us.
WHAM!
Ricky cracked Don in the face, before yanking the door open and snatching his ass out.
“Ahhh, fuck!” Don whimpered, blood dripping down his face from where Ricky hit him.
“Shut yo’ bitch ass up,” I hissed, before punching the shit out of him. “You shooting at niggas now?”
“Man, fuck you. That’s why I got ya bitch pregnant and told her to pretend it’s yours,” he hissed, blood covering his teeth.
“Nigga, what?” Ricky gritted, as if Isla was his bitch.
“You fucked my bitch for real, huh? And recently?” I knew he did because how else would he know her ass was pregnant. It wasn’t like she was toting a big ass muthafuckin’ belly around.
“Nah, not recently. … Four years ago,” Don smirked. “Michael is a good little boy, just like his daddy.”
I felt Ricky snap his neck to look my way, as I started to see red. Even he was too baffled to respond. Without another word, I started to fuck Don up mercilessly. It seemed like I’d only been doing so for a couple minutes, but when Ricky yanked me back, I saw the nigga was on the edge of death.
“Let’s put this nigga in the trunk,” Ricky suggested.
“For what?”
“We gone swab his fucking mouth. We gon’ take his ass to ya crib right now and see if he lying or not.” He picked up Don’s feet. “Get his fucking upper body, nigga. And shit, you can beat Isla’s ass when we get there too.”
I was still in complete and utter shock right now, but I went ahead with the plan. Qamar finally got out of the car, and helped us put Don in the trunk. We left his homie’s half dead ass, and drove all the way to Ricky’s crib for some swabs, then to my crib in Beverly Hills.
I ain’t know why Ricky had swabs on deck, but he said after having so many babies pinned on him, he kept them handy to make the disproval process quicker. He said he wished he had access to get DNA’s done before birth too.
Pulling into my garage, I noticed Isla’s Range Rover was missing.
“Her fucking car is gone,” I spoke lowly, angry at the fact that Isla wasn’t here. That meant she’d probably dropped my son to my mom’s.
“Call her ass, or we can just get Michael from ya mom’s spot to do the swab shit,” Qamar interjected.
I paused for a minute, not even sure if I wanted to go through with this. Since the day Isla told me she was pregnant, I thought Michael was mine. The whole shit with Don happened after she had my son, so how long had she really been fucking with this nigga? For the first time in my life, I wanted to put hands on a woman; like straight up fight the bitch.
“What if he lied though?”
“That’s why we gon’ have this shit done. You swab that muthafucka in the trunk, then Michael, and my doc will have some results for you ASAP,” Ricky assured me.
I exhaled heavily, knowing I needed to find this shit out. If what Don said was true, I honestly didn’t know how I’d react.
“Hello?” my mother answered. “Boy, why do you always call so late? Matter fact, I already know why, and no, Michael is not here.”
“He ain’t?” I replied, surprised as hell. Still on the phone, I hopped out of Ricky’s whip and went inside my spot.
“No, Micah, he’s—”
“Isla!” I shouted over my mansion, rushing to the back to check the den. “Michael!” I hollered again.
“Micah, what is going on?”
“Ma, let me call you back.” I quickly hung up as I hit the stairs at top speed. Bursting into my bedroom, my heart rate sped up when I didn’t see Isla in there.
Something told me to check the closets, and when I did, all I saw were hangers on her side. I dialed her cell phone as I darted down the hall to Michael’s room, and when I entered, I saw some of his drawers had been emptied, and all of the shit in his closet, too, had been taken.
“Nigga, what’s going on?” Ricky entered my son’s room with Qamar behind him. They wore surprised looks when they saw the emptied out closet and the drawers hanging out of Michael’s dresser.
I plopped down on my sons’ bed, and dropped my face into my hands. I took a couple deep breaths, then called Isla again and again and again. She didn’t answer once, so I had Ricky and then Qamar try.
The three of us left to go ahead and swab Don’s mouth, then we drove his ass somewhere in North Hollywood, before dumping him onto an abandoned sidewalk. He groaned a little, but we ignored that shit and drove off. He could walk home in the morning.
Ricky dropped me off at home, and I just went back to my kid’s room, wondering what the fuck was going on. Sitting down, I laid back, staring up at the ceiling as I thought deeply.
I knew Isla was pissed about catching me out with Kattlyn, but earlier when I left, she was trying to work shit out. Then this shit with Don, and now her ass was nowhere to be found. All of it was just weird as fuck, and I could barely process it all.
I sat back up, and then went into my contacts. When I saw Kattlyn’s name, I decided to give the shit a go one more time. There wasn’t shit I could do about my son and Isla being gone tonight, and instead of sitting here drowning in my fucking thoughts, I’d rather lay up with something soft; that was if she allowed me to.
“The only thing you could be calling me for is some pussy, and I’m not about to give it to you.”
I smiled for a minute and then replied lowly, “Nah, I just wanna chill. I didn’t wake you though, did I?”
“No, I’m watching Netflix.”
“Perfect, so let me fall through then. We can Netflix and chill.”
Laughing softly, she said, “Yeah, and that’s all it will be. Nothing else, so get whatever you have in your mind out.”
“You always thinking somebody is trying to fuck you.”
“Because 99.9% of these niggas are. You’re telling me if I told you, you could fuck me tonight, you wouldn’t?”
<
br /> “Nope,” I lied like a muthafucka. “I’d close your legs back together and put some Holy water on yo’ ass for even trying me.”
“Goodbye, negro. Text me when you’re here.”
“Aight.” I chuckled as I hung up.
The whole ride to Kattlyn’s, I thought about different places Isla and my son could have gone to. I thought maybe she was at that nigga Don’s crib waiting on him, and if she was, I’d murder her ass. I didn’t even know where the fuck his ass lived though. Frustrated with my thoughts, I dialed Isla’s ass again. When her voice flowed through my car, I couldn’t respond right away out of surprise.
“Where the fuck is my son!” I seethed, finally gripping the steering wheel tightly as hell out of fury.
“I need some time, Micah.”
“Time for what? You bet not be with that nigga Don! He told me about Michael being his! Is that shit true?”
“What?” She didn’t sound as surprised as she should have, which was odd to me. Shouldn’t she be as baffled as I was that Don spilled the beans? But it was like she already knew he told me.
“Is it true? I swear to God if it is, Isla, it’s a wrap for you, baby girl.”
Click.
I dialed her back, but her phone was off by that time. I’d made it to Draylah’s spot where Kattlyn was pretty much staying alone since Ricky and Draylah had rekindled their shit. I texted her to let her know I was here, and got out. Just as I came up the porch steps, she opened the door and then allowed me to step in.
“Don’t be fresh.” She smiled when I gave her a hug.
“Chill out.” I waited for her to close and lock the door, and then followed her to the bedroom she slept in. “This is cute,” I joked.
“Nigga, fuck you. Don’t act like my room is whack.” She closed the bedroom door behind me.
“It’s just colorful as fuck. I ain’t used to it.”
“Because you deal with boring ass bitches who can’t fight, like ya baby mama.” She sat down on her bed and I sat next to her. She cut the lamp off and hit play on whatever she was watching. “So what happened to you?”
“What you mean?” I glanced at the side of her face since her attention was still on what I realized was some shit called Vampire Diaries.
“You call me this late, and then when I mention your baby mama, you get all quiet. And is that blood on your hoodie? Nigga, get out of my bed or take that off.”
“My bad, mamacita.” I yanked it off and placed it in the chair nearby.
“Don’t ever call me that shit again.”
“I thought Latina females liked shit like that. Makes y’all feel sexy or some shit.” I couldn’t help but to laugh because of how she was glaring at me.
“Well you’re wrong, nigga.”
“You always so feisty? Like, are you ever submissive, or is it only when you’re getting fucked?”
“I’m not submissive ever, not even during sex.”
“Shit, you be submissive as fuck when I’m hitting you. You one of them females you gotta shut up with dick.”
“Not at all,” she giggled.
“Yeah, next time you get smart, I’m just gon’ whip my shit out and put it on yo’ lip.”
Bursting into laughter, she replied, “And get that shit bit off. I wish the fuck you would.”
We watched that stupid ass show some more, and then finally she turned it off. She made me take off damn near everything except my boxers in order to get under the covers with her. We faced one another in the bed, and even though this shit was like a cot compared to my bed at home, I was cool.
“You’re so fucking pretty it’s ridiculous,” I commented.
“It’s dark as hell in here.”
“So, I can still see yo’ ass.” I pulled her closer to me, and for the first time, she appeared to be nervous. “My situation with my baby mama is over with.”
“I’m still not gonna fuck you.”
“I’m telling you so that you can start back answering my calls and texts. Calm yo’ ass down.” Moving her long ass hair out of her face, I asked, “I can kiss you though, right?”
She nodded as I pulled her even closer, before slipping my tongue into her mouth. For a cool minute, we just laid there kissing hard as hell, making it obvious we both wanted to fuck. She held her ground though.
Chapter Seven: Qamar
A few days later …
Me: What you mean by make life easier for Bia?
I texted Ricky, and of course that nigga called me. I didn’t understand why the fuck he couldn’t just respond sometimes. But since I needed a little bit of his help, I was gon’ take it any way that I could get it.
“Nigga, take yo’ medicine before you go see her. And make sure everything ain’t about yo’ ass,” Ricky spoke into the phone. I could tell he was blowing smoke out.
“I took my medicine, nigga. And shit, I’m used to shit being about me, so how the fuck I’m gon’ change that?”
Chuckling, he replied, “If you ever wanna be in her bed again, you’ll figure that shit out, Qamar.”
“I only know how to deal with these hoes, bruh,” I groaned.
“Well, that shit ain’t gon’ work with Bia, obviously, muthafucka.” He took a hit on his blunt, it sounded like. “You can’t treat her how you treat these hoes, that’s the first problem. She’s on a higher level than them females. You gon’ have to act like you got some damn sense, that’s all. Treat her like she means something to you, muthafucka; like a prized possession, aight?”
“Aight,” I exhaled heavily. If Ricky’s psycho ass could pull it together for Draylah, I was sure I could do the shit for Bia. “I guess if yo’ ass can get the job done, I can too. You crazier than me, my nigga.”
“See, I’m crazy, but I’m cognizant of my actions and understand that they’re crazy. Yo’ ass is crazy but don’t even believe what you’re doing is crazy… that’s worse. Now get off my phone and quit acting like a little bitch ass nigga who ain’t never had pussy.”
“Fuck you.” I laughed subtly before hanging up on his ass.
Ricky was bat shit crazy, but he was the best homie a nigga could have, … no homo. He was the type of muthafucka that would ride with you to kill some niggas, not even caring why. But then he’d turn around and give you some good advice as if he wasn’t a deranged ass nigga.
I didn’t know where Bia was at the moment, and I didn’t wanna drive all the way over to her crib just for her not to be there. I dialed her number, and of course she didn’t answer me, so for a minute, I was stumped. I had to see her because I missed her ass a lot. My dick especially did, even though right now I couldn’t exactly fuck her because I ran into a little problem.
While in the hospital, my mom made me get an STD test, and only because Ricky agreed to do it with me, I went ahead and got it done. One of them fuck ass groupies I smashed while on my rampage must have passed me some shit, but at least it was curable. By saying that, I wasn’t trying to fuck Bia until I went back for a second test to make sure the shit was for real gone. I wasn’t the best nigga, but I’d feel like shit if I gave Bia something; I was disgusted with myself enough. Just the thought of me almost having raped her and given her something, made me feel sick to my fucking stomach.
“Stop calling me, Qamar! I’m nice enough not to block your ass, but it’s about to happen!” Bia finally answered. Her background was slightly noisy, so I could tell she was outside somewhere.
“Aye, look, I’m feeling better now, and I—”
“Oh, now that you’ve decided to be responsible and take your medicine, I’m just supposed to fall back into you? I don’t think so.”
Nodding, I said, “Understandable. I’d feel the same way, honestly. But maybe we can just go get something to eat. It’ll be a public place and shit, where you ain’t gotta worry about me doing anything to you.”
I didn’t fault Bia for being angry with me because of the shit I’d done. I would probably never fuck with me again either. I wish a bitch woul
d be mentally ill and not tell a nigga, just for me to wake up to see her ass standing over me with a pot of boiling water. I’d knock her ass out, and toss her in a ditch somewhere.
Bia was quiet, which made me smile a little because I knew I possibly had a chance. If I didn’t, she would have snapped on me before I even finished reciting the offer.
“I’m in the mood for Red Lobster. They’re having a crab fest, so we can meet there for some food.”
“Okay, where should I come get you from?” I stood up happily, making sure I had my keys and wallet on me.
“Nigga, I said meet, which means we arrive separately and eat together. That way, if you decide to act up, I can bounce.”
“Fair enough. Which one?”
“Off Crenshaw and Century in that shopping center. Don’t be late because I will eat without you.”
“On my way,” I chuckled.
I drove all the way out to the Red Lobster in Inglewood, and searched the parking lot for Bia’s car. Since it was in a shopping center, it was hard as fuck for me to spot her, so I eventually gave up. Just as I parked my shit in the section facing busy ass Century Boulevard, I saw Bia sitting on the bench out in front of the restaurant.
She looked so damn pretty in that bright yellow dress that paired well with her glowing complexion. Her hair was wild as usual, but blocking her face since she had her head down while typing on her phone. I made my way up to her slowly, and lightly moved her hair back, causing her to jump slightly.
“Oh, hi. I already gave them my name so it shouldn’t be long before we sit.”
“Should have gave them my shit, and we would have been seated already. Watch.” I smiled and held the door open. She stared up at me for a few, and then rolled her eyes as she rose up to walk into the restaurant.
“You’re so annoying.” She grunted lowly before going inside. Like always, my eyes dropped right to her nice, plump ass that fit her small frame perfectly. Knowing I couldn’t fuck for a minute made me exhale heavily to myself.
I gave the old hostess bitch my name, and since the manager overheard, we were seated right away. I smirked in Bia’s direction, and again, she rolled her eyes just before we both sat across from one another.
She Got It Bad for a Heartless Gangsta 2 Page 18
