Kismet 3

by Raynesha Pittman

  I spoke to Savannah briefly whenever I called to talk to Ryan. The torn feeling hadn’t gone away, but I felt like shit that I had set her up for danger with Mike, so I kept the peace. She didn’t know that I knew about the incident because I told Ryan I wouldn’t say anything to her about it, and I’d just handle it without her knowing I had.

  I hadn’t slept since Ryan told me what Mike had done. Night after night, I dreamed of confronting him, then killing my best friend of over twenty years. Then I’d wake up in cold sweats with the urge to vomit. I still don’t know what I could have done that would make Mike sleep with both of the women he knew I loved. I was tired of asking myself questions I didn’t have the answers to. I said I would wait until I was released, but fuck it, I needed to know. I dialed his number.

  “My nigga, Dre.” Mike had greeted me with the same greeting as far back as I could remember. I can’t believe his words held no weight.

  “What’s up?” I tried not to sound dry, but I wasn’t in the mood to fake. “Mike, is there something you need to tell me, my nigga? I’m hearing some foul-ass shit about you, and you know I’m not the nigga to be giving out passes.”

  Mike had to be in front of somebody, or after all of these years, the nigga had finally got some heart, because he went in on me. “Aye, nigga, don’t be calling my phone with that bullshit. I don’t give a fuck about you or no passes. If you got something you want to ask me, then ask me. I don’t have time to listen to you pour your ho-ass feelings out. I’m trying to get this money.”

  “Damn, it’s like that? So, I guess you did try to rape my bitch, and that shit I’m hearing about you fucking Tasha must be true too.”

  “Mane, get yo’ soft ass off my line with all that, ho. Those flips wanted this dick. You acting like a ho over some pussy that ain’t even yours. Yeah, nigga, I fucked that bitch Tasha a few times, and she swallowed this dick up like a pro. So, now you want to beef with yo’ boy since knee high over some hoes? Then fuck it. It is what it is. Yo’ bitch Savannah wanted this dick too. She can scream rape if she wants to, but I know what it really was. That bitch got you brainwashed, but I got something for her ass for that little trip to the hospital. You got another four months in that bitch. I doubt they let you come to her funeral. It’s gon’ be closed casket anyways. I’m offing that ho before Sunday. I’ll see you when you touch down, my nigga.”

  Mike laughed, then hung up the phone. A threat from him was a confirmed promise. He wasn’t much of a drug dealer, but he had a few bodies under his belt. It was Thursday now, and I’d be released late Friday night or early Saturday morning. If he was on his way to Atlanta, I couldn’t wait to meet him there. He bragged about his body count, but real killers knew better. We kept our shit on hush. Fuck a teardrop. That’s like snitching on yourself. I called Ryan and told him what happened and the threat that was made. He was ready for Mike to pop up and prayed he had the pleasure of handling it before me.

  “You shouldn’t have to be the one to pull the trigger. Too much history. Plus, I want the body under my belt.”

  It was time for him to pick up Savannah from work, so he said he’d call me back, but he assured me he was ready for anything.

  I called Mama Dee to kill time until my boy called me back, and the drama never seemed to stop.

  “Why is Tasha calling my phone telling me she’s going to court to get her son back and fuck you and me? That little bitch has crossed the line with me one too many times, Andre. I’ve prayed for the Lord to keep me from getting her, but God must be busy and missed my plea because when I see that heffa, it’s gon’ take all twelve disciples to get me off of her.”

  She meant it too. I wish I knew why Tasha had a change of heart all of a sudden so I could tell my mama something that would calm her down, but I didn’t. I could always assume, though, and my assumption was that Tasha was upset about me moving on with Savannah, or her side piece, Mike, told her I knew about them creeping.

  “Do you hear me, Andre?”

  “No, Mama, I didn’t. I zoned out, trying to figure out what Tasha’s problem was. What did you say?”

  “I said you got a certified letter today, and the mailman said only you could sign for it. I don’t know how they expect you to sign for it in jail.”

  That must have been my Maury letter. That was fast, but I guessed when they already had a blood and saliva sample processed, they moved quickly.

  “All this stuff going on, and if I don’t know shit else, I know the only people who are going to suffer over this is these kids. What happened to you keeping your word to me, Andre?”

  “Mama, you gon’ kick me while I’m down?”

  “Over my grandkids, these innocent babies, I’ll shoot you while you’re down. What happened to keeping your word, son?”

  She was cold for digging in her bag of tricks and pulling out this one to get me to think straight. My word was, and still is, “If and when I have children, I’ll never do them like my father did me. I’d never let money, jail, or anything else stop me from tucking them in bed at night, being the one to make sure they build a relationship with the Lord, and I’ll let nothing stop me from doing what a real man is supposed to do, which is loving them through my own personal ups and downs.”

  Those were the words I said to my mama when she tried to get me to understand what my father was going through and why he didn’t always pick up a phone to talk to me. Her exact words were, “Baby, prison life is hard and being away from those you love makes it harder. Your daddy couldn’t call you today.”

  “Why couldn’t he? He called yesterday, and I bet he calls tomorrow. He hasn’t even mentioned my birthday all month. Tell me why a man wouldn’t tell his only son Happy Birthday?”

  “Because it’s easier for him to do his time without thinking about everything he’s missing out on. He hasn’t told me Happy Birthday, Merry Christmas, or Happy Anniversary in years. Now that you’ve gotten older and you know the truth, he’s cutting it out and hopes that you understand.”

  I said those words as my response because I meant them, and nothing or nobody will ever be able to stop me from raising my kids. That’s why I told my cell mate Tez that he needed to chop it up because regardless of whether he wants to admit the shit, he chose to commit the crime over being there when his child will be born. He might not have realized it at the time, but getting caught holds up to a seven-year sentence so you might as well say that he told his son fuck his first seven birthdays and holidays, but that doesn’t give him the right to dodge them to make his situation better. It wasn’t right for my father to do me or any other man who is serving time unless he is wrongly incarcerated, but even then, he should be busting his ass to try to prove his innocence.

  “I meant what I said to you back then, and this is my last time talking to you from any cage. It’s also the last time I’m going to allow you or anybody else to raise my kids for me. Fuck their mamas. Those are my kids. When I get out, I’ll make you a believer in my word.”

  “I hope so, baby. Between Tasha, Savannah, and whoever this is trying to pin this new baby on you, all of them are unfit to raise my grandchildren in my eyes.”

  She had calmed down enough to have a civil conversation with me, so I stayed on the phone with Mama Dee until Ryan buzzed in.

  “I know you said you’d call back after you snatched her up from work, but that was quick.”

  Ryan was speed talking, and I couldn’t make out his words. However, I could hear Savannah in the background clearly crying.

  “I couldn’t hear you, say that again.”

  “I said that guy Amir is a real problem. He just shot at Savannah as she walked out of work. I shot back at him, but he got away. Savannah said he’s been calling and threatening her since he found out she returned, and Mike said he had handled it, so she didn’t tell me. Shit is getting real down here, fast. How did it go from one person trying to get her to four?”

  Ryan had fucked up, and he knew it as soon as the words came out of his mo
uth. I could hear Savannah’s sobbing stop, and she ask, “Four? What do you mean four people are trying to kill me? Ryan, who else is trying to kill me?”

  I got his attention before he answered her question.

  “Tell her the truth, Ryan. If she’s been trained, you’ll need the extra help for eyes and ears. Why didn’t she have her gun on her today?”

  Ryan asked Savannah why she hadn’t carried her gun with her to work, and in a small voice, she said, “I forgot to get it registered.”

  I told Ryan to handle her and to call me when she was out of earshot or asleep. Not knowing what else I could do from in here, I hit the floor and did some push-ups, and then I prayed again but cut it short. I had murder on my mind and didn’t need to disrespect the Lord by making him an accomplice to it.

  Ryan never called me back, but that was fine because I was released three o’clock Friday morning. The walk from Antioch to my mama’s house was a stroll, but when you’re ready to tear some shit up, it felt a yard a way. When I got to her house, I ate a good breakfast, took my son to school, grabbed some cash she had tucked away for me, then hit the road in my Monte Carlo to Atlanta. I tried to call Ryan and tell him I was on my way, but he still didn’t answer. I hoped everything was all right.

  Around nine o’clock my time, ten o’clock Atlanta’s, Ryan called me back.

  “I didn’t want you stressing, but after I told Savannah who all was looking for her, she dipped. I’ve been searching for her all night, and I can’t find her anywhere. I traced her ATM transactions to Alpharetta, Ga., around eleven o’clock last night. She withdrew $800 and hasn’t used the card since. She didn’t have clothes with her, and she left her purse in the car. If she doesn’t trust anybody to drive her around, I take it she’s getting around on public transportation. I put a lookout at the bus and train stations and got with TSA at the airport. Nobody has heard or seen her yet.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour. Meet me at the Houston on Peachtree downtown.”

  I hung up on him and started blowing up Savannah’s phone, but there was no answer. As I started dialing the number I had on Amir, another call came in.

  “Hello?”

  “Guess where I’m at, my nigga? About forty-five minutes away from your bitch’s house. Seems she’s out sick from work today. Think I’ll give her something to help her feel better before I put one in her head. I’ll call you while I’m fucking her.”

  Mike hung up, and I hit the gas. The way I was driving, I’d be at Savannah’s place in thirty minutes as long as traffic didn’t pick up. As I swerved from one lane to another, I got Amir on the phone.

  “Is this Amir?”

  “Who’s asking?” he shouted in the phone.

  “I’m asking. My name is Dre, and I’m Savannah’s fiancé—”

  “I’ll kill you, and I’ll kill her too. She keeps playing with my heart like it’s a toy. One minute she’s making love to me. Then the next, she’s telling me she’s in love with you. I’ll kill you. If you want her to live, make her love me, or I’ll kill her. Where is she, huh? She’s not at work, not at the gym. Is she with you? Is she making sweet love to you like she makes love to me? I’ll find out where she lives, and I’ll kill her. Do you hear me? I’ll kill her!”

  His crazy ass hung up before I did. There wasn’t going to be any talking to him. I’d have to kill his obsessed ass too. I didn’t bring a gun with me, but I was sure Ryan did, or else I’d use Savannah’s. She never registered it anyway, which turned out to be a good thing. When I made it fifteen miles from the exit, my cell phone rang. It was Savannah calling me.

  “Where in the fuck are you? You got Ryan driving around town looking everywhere for you. You know better than to go off by yourself.”

  She was silent, but I could hear her breathing hard. “People are looking for me, Dre. People want me dead, and you want me to sit around and wait for them?”

  “I know, Savannah, but the only way we can protect you is by knowing where you are. I need you to tell me, baby, where are you?”

  “Does it really matter where I am? No one can protect me forever. You can stop pretending now, Dre. I know the truth about everything.”

  What the fuck is she talking about? I thought. She was starting to sound like that crazy nigga she had been fucking.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Savannah, but now ain’t the motherfucking time for this.”

  “You know what the fuck I’m talking about, bitch,” she screamed her words into the phone. “You set me up. You set me up with Trisha to get my money. Why, Dre?”

  I didn’t know how she found out, but now wasn’t the time to discuss it. “We can and will talk about this later. I need you to—”

  “No, you conniving bastard, we will talk about this now!”

  I wasn’t about to go back and forth with her about this, so I answered the question.

  “I found out you was fucking that lawyer nigga and a few other niggas. Trisha told me about Royce, and I found out about the others from following yo’ ass. Just like I found out about this nigga Amir you fucked. Now, instead of breaking up with you for being the biggest ho I’ve ever met, I’m trying to make this shit work. So stop arguing with me and tell me where you are.”

  She was pissing me off. How was breaking my ass to protect her such a pain in the ass? She made me want to exit the interstate and change direction back to Nashville.

  “That makes it okay to help her rob me, Dre? It’s okay to rob your fiancée because she cheated on you, is that how you think? Get rid of all her money, and that will tame into being faithful? What kind of sick shit is that?”

  I made it to the exit near Savannah’s apartment, and Ryan was buzzing in. I put Savannah on hold.

  “Change in plans. Meet me with heat at Savannah’s spot. Mike is about ten minutes behind me on his way there, and Amir is trying to figure out where she lives now. I got her on the other line, and her ass is talking crazy. She’s gon’ fuck around, make me off her ass myself. I got to go.”

  I resumed my call with Savannah and asked the same question again. “Where are you, Savannah?”

  She was sniffling like she had been crying while I placed her on hold. “I’m home, Dre. I needed to get clothes and my purse before I disappeared.”

  “Stay there. I’m on my way.”

  “You’re on your way? I thought you were in jail. It’s one lie after another with you, huh, Dre?” She got quiet, then said, “Hold on. I have a more important call coming in from somebody who really gives a fuck about me.”

  She clicked over before I could tell her not to. It must have been her daddy calling. If Ryan had everyone reach out to her, her daddy would be the only one she trusted. After holding on for five long minutes, she came back, and the weakness had left her voice.

  “Were you even in jail with your lying ass, or do you have some more of your undercover work to do? Yes, I know that your ass is an undercover fed on the drug task force pretending to be that nigga in the drug game because you smoke a little weed.” She laughed hysterically and then said, “Go ahead and do something you ain’t never done before—like tell the truth.”

  “Savannah, your facts are off. We’ll talk when I get there. Don’t open the door for nobody but me.”

  “I’m not—not even for you. Remember, I’m the biggest ho you know. Ain’t that what you just said? But I beg to differ because this little package Stephanie and my mama put together for me said otherwise. It was heartbreaking, but it made me finally realize that you ain’t shit. I don’t want or need you in my life. It’s over, Dre.”

  “What package? What are you talking about, Savannah? It ain’t over ’til I say it’s over. All the shit I’ve taken from you, and you think you can just tell me it’s over, and I accept it? Bitch, you crazy. When I get to that fucking apartment, you better unlock the door.”

  “No, bitch, you’re crazy, and you’re just as big of a ho as me.” She laughed liked an evil villain. “Your son is cut
e, though, Dre. Andrew Burns, born January twenty-six, twenty thirteen. The bitch had y’all baby on my fucking birthday. Ain’t that some shit. He’s really cute too. Looks just like his sorry-ass Daddy. Congrats to you and Stephanie. Guess y’all want me to be the little nigga’s godmother, right?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Stephanie didn’t have my baby. You’re losing your mind, baby.”

  “I’m not your fucking baby.” She was cried out. “Andrew is your baby. I’m your ex. Stephanie sent me another package with Trisha’s help. I guess it was her response to the little Savannah box I sent her. Anyway, her letter said you didn’t know about the pregnancy just like you hadn’t known about mine. Unlike me, she was very happy to find out that she was carrying your child because she couldn’t think of a better man to have a child with and the way you would cover her body in kisses as you nutted in her let her know how much you loved and appreciated her being there for you.”

  “What?”

  “Stop the lies. You know what I’m talking about because you received a letter for DNA testing, and guess what the results say? She included a copy with this 8x10 of your youngest child. DNA says 99.9 percent all Andre Burns. The DNA was taken from the test you took in Washington. You got that cutthroat bitch, Mrs. Jefferson, to get the DNA testing info you had done with Sade transferred for you, and she didn’t even respect me enough to tell me. I’m over all this shit, but I have to ask you this... How could you fuck the only bitch that you knew I called my best friend? I thought you said you loved me?”

  Savannah was crying in a way that I had never heard her do before. She kept saying, “Why, Dre?” over and over again. I had fucked up. I was fucking Stephanie, but just to get her to talk to me about Savannah. That first night I went to her house looking for Savannah high and drunk, I went into her raw. I could tell she hadn’t had sex that many times by the tight grip she had on my dick. It felt so good that I released inside of her, not once, but every single time we had sex that night, which was three or four times. I took her to get a few of those morning-after pills from three different places before we went to church, but I didn’t watch her take any of them. She came out with an empty container that stored the pill and a half-empty bottle of water. I assumed she’d taken them.