“Let me find out you’re conspiring with that bitch or something,” I gritted, and Kattlyn’s angry expression turned to a shocked one. Fuck. “I ain’t mean—”
“So that’s how it is? Because I’m trying to help your stupid ass see things in a different light, I’m on her side now? Fuck you, Micah.” She turned away, but I grabbed her arm.
“I apologize for that shit, but I just need you to chill. I can handle this shit.” I palmed my chest, still holding her arm with my other hand.
“And if the police shows up?”
“Isla wouldn’t dare, and if she did, I could handle that too.” I smiled. Isla wasn’t that damn desperate to send the fucking police.
“No you can’t!”
“I can! And why the fuck does it matter, ain’t like he’s your damn kid!”
“Because I am an immigrant, aight!” she hollered with her eyes bucked. Before I could respond, she added, “I know I told you my parents and I became legal citizens after coming here, but that is a lie! I ran away before any of that could ever happen, so right now, I am not legally supposed to be here. I got a lawyer to help me, but right now, I’m still illegal. So if the police come, they could very well take me away!”
“Kattlyn—”
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
“LAPD open up!”
As if God were trying to show me that Kattlyn was right and I was for damn sure wrong, the police began beating on my door like they were about to break the shit down.
I told Kattlyn to go up to the bedroom, and then I went to answer the door. Outside were three police cars with their lights swirling brightly, and then I saw another car with Isla standing near it. She was frowning hard, and when we made eye contact, she raised a brow.
“Sir, we are here to pick up a Michael Gaines, who we’ve been told you are holding illegally,” the Black stocky officer with a badge that read Johnston spoke up.
“Look, he is my son, and he’s supposed to be here. This is my time with him,” I explained calmly, not wanting to turn up too much, largely because I was still a bit cross faded.
“According to Miss Tyree, Michael’s mother, you aren’t the father. The father is at the home she is residing in at the moment,” the shorter Hispanic officer with Busigo on his badge added.
“Well, officers.” I chuckled. “That’s what she claims. but we don’t quite have proof of that yet. So right now, as far as I know, I’m his father. I’ve been his father for the last three and a half years.”
“We were given this document which states otherwise, Mr. Gaines.” Officer Johnston handed me a thick paper. “Now, if you do not bring the child out, we will have to arrest you on kidnapping charges.”
My heart beat rapidly as I read the paternity test over and over. I didn’t know what was worse; the fact that it showed Donald Isaacs was 99.9998% the father, or the fact that it was done a month after Michael was born. This bitch knew from day one that he wasn’t mine, but never said shit.
As I stood there dumbfounded, the two officers barged into my place, almost knocking me over.
“What on Earth is going on?” I heard my mother’s shaky voice.
“Ma’am, we’re here to pick up Michael Gaines. Where is he?” I heard Officer Busigo ask, as I lifted my head slowly to stare out of my door at Isla in the distance. She kept her eye contact strong with me, and then cocked her head with a smug expression.
I’d choke the shit out of that bitch … I could hear Ricky’s ass now, and at the moment, that sounded good as hell to me. However, I refrained, because that definitely wasn’t the way to get Michael back.
By the time I snapped out of it, the officers were walking back across the threshold holding Michael, and Isla ran up and grabbed him from them. The officers got in their cars, and one by one, they left, thankfully.
“You stupid ass bitch!” I barked angrily, balling the paper up in my hand unintentionally.
“Fuck you, nigga! You’ll never see my son again!” Isla shot back before placing Michael into the back seat of her new whip.
“I bet I will!”
“Nah, you won’t, nigga! But thanks for all the shit I got your goofy ass for! How you get played like that, Micah?” She laughed teasingly, pissing me the fuck off.
“Micah!” my mother shouted and grabbed the back of my shirt when I darted outside. “Go on somewhere, Isla!”
“Nigga, please, you wouldn’t bust a grape in a fruit fight!” Isla yelled out of her window before reversing out of my driveway quickly.
“I’m gon’ kill her. I’m gon’ kill her ass,” I chanted as my mother directed me back inside.
“Relax, baby. Relax. I need you to calm down.” My mama rubbed my back gently.
“I’m good.”
My mother left to the guest room, and I made my way upstairs to the bedroom. Once inside, I saw Kattlyn sitting on the bed looking like she’d seen a ghost.
“Micah, I’m so sorry,” she whimpered.
I ignored her as I walked briskly to the bathroom within my room. Once inside, I slammed the door and panted angrily for a few moments. Not able to hold it in anymore, I dropped down onto the closed toilet top and sobbed hard as hell.
A few moments later, I heard the door open, and it was Kattlyn. I didn’t look up, but I knew it was her by the scent of the Jimmy Choo perfume she always wore.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” she whispered as she hugged my head into her stomach.
I said nothing in response as I cried like a little ass bitch over my kid.
Chapter Two: Draylah
I was finally feeling a little better since being out of the hospital, so today, instead of calling my aunt Charlie, I was going to see that bitch. I planned to stop by her home first, and then if she wasn’t there, the only other place her ass could be was at Zebra.
As I brushed my hair down, I heard the bell in the distance, letting me know someone was outside of the house. Not too many people knew where Ricky and I lived, and since I didn’t have any plans with any one of my friends today, I was a bit confused.
“Maybe it’s Charlie,” I said to myself. I slipped my feet into my Adidas slides, and then carefully came down the stairs so that I could answer the door. I looked at the camera screen near the door and saw what looked to be a mailman of some sort.
“Mrs. Draylah Montana?” the man inquired with a smile, holding a huge bouquet of red roses, and then a bag that had the Hermes logo on it. I liked the last name he’d given me.
“Umm, … yes?”
“I have a delivery for you from Mr. Montana.” He outreached the huge bouquet to me, making me smile. “And this as well.” He handed me the Hermes bag, and that’s when I saw he was holding a Christian Louboutin bag behind it.
“Thank you.” I smiled happily, before placing my thumbprint down for him to verify that it was me.
“Enjoy your day.” He nodded before leaving.
I rushed the stuff to the kitchen because I didn’t feel like going all the way to the den or to the living room. Placing everything on the counter, I reached into the Hermes bag first and pulled out a huge, teal colored Birkin bag that had my jaw on the kitchen tile floor.
“Ricky,” I whispered to myself, admiring how beautiful this bag was. I knew it was a little over ten grand, and I couldn’t believe it was in my hands.
After taking a few pictures of it, I opened the Christian Louboutin box after retrieving it from its bag. Inside were a pair of beautiful, dark pink heels, with an ankle band that was satin material. They were so sexy, and so pretty. I snapped some photos of those as well, and that’s when the card sitting in the roses caught my eye, so I opened it.
Just ‘cause a nigga is locked up don’t mean I’m gon’ slow up on making you smile…
I didn’t realize I’d teared up until the tear hit the small card. Taking my phone case off, I placed the miniature card inside of it, and then popped my iPhone back in.
I tried calling the Texas number he usually called me from, but it went s
traight to voicemail, so I knew it was off. He told me I could try him anytime, but some days, the phone would be off, so I wasn’t too upset about it. Plus, I knew he’d call me tonight.
After putting my new shoes and purse in my bedroom, I put my roses in some water, and posted a photo collage on my Instagram. I usually wouldn’t have because bitches were nosey, but I wanted these niggas who were starting to flock, to know daddy was putting in work even from behind bars, so they could go fly a kite. Once I was finished, I was out the door and on my way to Charlie’s.
Pulling up, I saw Angie’s car, and I hoped Charlie was here. Sometimes they switched vehicles when Angie wanted to stunt a little bit, and I was hoping today was one of those times.
“Charlie!” I called out as soon as I stepped in the door. “Charlie!”
“She’s not here.” Angie came walking to the living room with her makeup bag and mirror. She sat down on the couch and prepared to do her makeup.
“Where the fuck is she then? Because I find it real funny that the bitch hasn’t answered not one of my calls!”
“Whoa? Bitch? What the hell is going on, Dray? Since when do you have such beef with my damn mama?” Angie frowned, holding her eyeliner.
“Since the bitch lied to me about Lily! She sold my baby!”
“What?” Angie’s brows furrowed, and I could tell she was confused as hell right about now.
“Some woman asked me to donate blood to her daughter, Lily, that she bought from your dirty ass mama!”
“And you believe her?”
“Angie, how the hell would she know my baby’s name?”
“It’s tattooed big as fuck on your side, Draylah. I mean, come on now, it’s not that hard,” Angie scoffed and followed it with a chuckle as she lined her lids. “Draylah!” she squealed when I grabbed a handful of her hair.
“What the hell is so funny to you, Angela? You and your mama think I’m playing games but I’m not. I don’t give a fuck if I have Lily is my baby tattooed on my forehead, if Charlie doesn’t come to me with an explanation, I’m beating both of y’all asses!”
“Let go!” Angie whimpered, and I finally released her hair. “I don’t know shit about whatever the fuck my mama had going on, aight? If she did what that lady said, then yeah, it’s hella fucked up and you have the right to be angry, but not at me, Draylah! Not at me! I would never do some shit like that to you!” Angie cried. Her voice was tremulous, which always happened when she got angry or sad or both.
“Okay, okay, you’re right, and I’m sorry for grabbing your hair.” I grasped her wrist and pulled her in closer to hug her. She was resistant at first, but finally she gave in.
“Only because you’re pregnant, and adorable while you’re pregnant,” she said, making us both laugh as I gently tried to ease her head.
“You seriously don’t know where she is?”
“I saw her this morning before she went to work and that was it. I texted her earlier looking for my Giuseppes, but she never responded.”
“Humph.” I looked around the living room. “Wait, Giuseppes? Who bought you those?”
“A friend.” She smirked, and I rolled my eyes. “No, this friend is different. He cares about me, and I kind of care about him.” She looked into the mirror as she put mascara on.
We giggled together.
It was no telling who the nigga was. Angie never ceased to amaze me.
I was starving, so I whipped up some spaghetti really quickly, and Angie and I ate while talking for a little bit. As soon as I was done though, I left and headed straight to Zebra.
“Excuse me,” I spoke to the girl behind the bar.
“Draylah?” she cocked her head.
“Yes.”
“You stepping in for Ricky? We miss him around here. I haven’t seen that sexy walk in a minute.” The bartender sighed like she was reminiscing.
“I know, right!” Some bitch in a skimpy fit laughed. I didn’t even see her until she opened her mouth.
“Well, both of y’all can stop missing my nigga before y’all come up missing,” I spat, making them look at one another. “Over here.” I redirected that bitch’s eyes. “Now, I came here looking for Charlie, my aunt. Where is she?”
“Oh, she came earlier and said she wouldn’t be in for the rest of the week. She left Aubrielle in charge.” The stripper hoe pointed to another girl across the bar.
“Fuck.” I got up from the bar, and both of their eyes shot right to my belly. It wasn’t huge but it was prominent, more prominent than before, which made a lot of sense since finding out that news. “Yes, it’s his,” I said before turning to leave.
“Shit, I’m trying to get pregnant by Ricky too,” the stripper said, and when I turned around, she and the bartender were slapping hands with their tongues out.
“Hey!” some man yelled when I snatched his small ceramic cup of ranch off his plate.
“Ah!” the stripper yowled when it hit her in the forehead, leaving ranch all over the front of her weave, forehead, and nose.
“Let that be the last warning about my nigga, bitch!” I stormed out, finding it slightly comical at how quiet it was in the club outside of the music.
“Shit!” I shouted once inside this stupid rental. At least while it was being serviced, the Mercedes dealer gave me a loaner, but it was a four-door sedan, a far cry from my G-Wagon. I couldn’t wait to find the man who’d hit me.
Pulling Antonia’s card out of my purse, I dialed her number and took a couple deep breaths as the line trilled.
“This is Antonia Getty.”
“Hi,” I cleared my throat. “Th—this is Draylah Omari. Did I call you at a bad—”
“No, no, sweetie. No time is a bad time.”
“Right, cool. So I was wondering if maybe I could come see…” I inhaled and exhaled with my eyes closed. “If I could see, Lily.” It was so hard for me to even say her name. I placed my hand over my mouth so that Antonia wouldn’t hear the way my breath was shaking.
“Yes, yes, please come!” she replied excitedly before reading me the address to the hospital and the room number.
I wrote it down in my business iPhone, and then hung up. I said a quick prayer, and then headed over to the hospital on Torrance Boulevard. After getting a badge to go up, I rode the elevator to the correct floor, and took a minute before stepping off. I took so long that the doors almost closed on me.
As I trucked down the hospital hallway, bypassing room after room, I felt like all eyes were on me. My attention finally landed on the room number I knew Lily was in, and suddenly, my feet became heavier than before. I moved closer to the wall, and peeked in around the corner of the room. I spotted Antonia seated next to the hospital bed, looking over a magazine, and my eyes got stuck on her. I was prolonging seeing Lily for as much as I could. Finally, my eyes drifted slowly towards the little girl lying in the bed.
From here, I could see how beautiful she was. She looked exactly like me at that age, and I had plenty of pictures to prove it. She was definitely my baby, or Lily had a long-lost twin.
“Hey.” I stepped into the room.
“Draylah.” Antonia smiled, and Lily’s attention went right to me.
“Mommy, who is this?” her little voice weakly sang.
My throat dried up, my eyes watered, and my heart felt as if it’d physically broken, seeing my baby call another woman ‘mommy’ and ask who I was.
“Honey, this is—”
“You know what, I have to be somewhere actually.”
“Draylah—”
“I can come another time.”
I darted out of the room, and went right into the public restroom at the end of the hospital floor. Locking myself in the stall, I leaned up against the side and just cried. I cried so hard that the woman in the stall next to me asked if I was okay. I ignored her and continued to bawl my eyes out.
Chapter Two: Ricky AK
One week later …
“Montana, you have a visitor.” One of the
guards approached me while I was in my cell.
I’d just gotten out of the hospital a couple days ago from being beaten by them guards and stabbed three times. It was safe to say them muthafuckas tried to kill a nigga, but it didn’t work. It was unfortunate for their asses too, because as soon as I got out this bitch, them niggas were dead. Their wives and kids too.
“Aight.” I stood up slowly from the trash ass bed that I slept on. I had a cell and shit to myself because I had enough money and shit to get certain things I needed; a cell phone and private cell included. “Finally,” I mumbled to myself, already knowing it was Draylah here to see me.
My dick was hard already at the thought of her body, her smell, her buttery soft, golden skin, the way she cried my name when I beat her pussy up, the way that pussy tasted … got damn… I missed a lot of shit, but Draylah was at the top of the fucking list.
I was escorted out to the visiting room, and because I had one of the guards on my payroll, he allowed Draylah and I to meet without the glass, and touch.
“Ricky!” Draylah squealed damn near as she rushed into my arms. I hugged her body tightly, exhaling heavily because I hadn’t done that shit in forever it seemed.
Pulling away, we kissed hungrily, yet sensually and passionately, as my hand dropped to her round stomach. I hadn’t been gone long, and her belly was already rounder and larger than before.
“Damn, Dray, fuck is going on in here?” I chuckled softly, angry as hell that I wasn’t there to watch it grow right in front of me.
“I know.” She placed her small hand on top of mine. “Either she’s gonna be fat or tall, or both,” she joked, making us both laugh.
We sat down, with me pulling her into my lap so that I could rub on her thighs and shit. That garter tattoo around her thigh always got me. She was wearing a dress, and it fit her body perfectly. She looked the same, except she had a round stomach on her now, and bigger lips.
“How you been? Talk to me.”
“I umm…” She stared off, squinting her eyes and frowning because of how bright the sun was shining down on us. “I’ve been looking for my aunt Charlie, but I can’t find her.”
She Got It Bad for a Heartless Gangsta Page 5
