Chapter 5
“Why the fuck are you pulling up to my fucking house, Britt?” I yelled as soon as I got inside her car.
This bitch was becoming a major fucking problem, and I didn’t need this shit right now. Jela’s ass was stressing me out with all the sad shit she was doing, and now that my brother was in the house, she wanted to put on a fucking show.
“Because you been ignoring my phone calls and messages!”
“I don’t give a fuck! You wait until I get back to your ass. Don't you ever pull up here unannounced again, or I'll break your fucking face. You did that shit before and had her ass crying and shit.”
“It ain't my fault she’s a weak bitch.”
“Say it again,” I challenged her.
She sucked her teeth and waved me off. “You don't scare me, Dame. I don't know why you playing with that bitch. Giving her the fucking life you promised me! I let yo’ ass off the leash for a few years, and you come back with that homeless ho!”
“You’re the one who wanted space, remember? Now you mad because I gave you what you asked for?”
“I'm mad because we said we would wait for each other—that we needed to explore and get right back. Your ass the one who went exploring and found that bitch. Giving her a baby, and now you're about to marry her? The fuck, Dame!”
“Look, I ain't about to argue with you. We need to talk about this pregnancy shit.”
“Ain’t shit to talk about. I’m keeping my baby.”
“No, the fuck you’re not. I got too much shit going on right now to be having another kid.”
“Damien… Why are you doing this?” Her eyes watered as she stared at me.
I swear, I didn’t want to hurt Brittany, but that one summer in Detroit when I saw Jela, I knew I needed her in my life.
Brittany and I had been broken up for years.
We’d still kick it and talk since I was back and forth from Detroit to Muskegon, but we never set an official date for when we’d get back together.
The shit between Jela and me started to progress, and I quickly became obsessed with her.
I was doing any and everything to make sure she stayed in my life.
I wasn't trying to abuse her, but Jela had a mouth on her once I moved her out here, away from her tacky-ass mama, ugly-ass sister, and ho-ass friends. Those hos hated me and didn’t even know jack shit about me.
For three years, I put up with their side-eyes, fucked-up attitudes, and disrespect.
So, once I knew I had Jela’s head, I got her pregnant to spite them.
Then I moved her ass as far away from them as I could without disrupting my business.
I severed all contact with them, tossed out her old phone, and purposely never transferred her contacts.
Social media wasn't an option either. I made sure I mirrored her phone to mine to make sure she wasn't trying to get on any social sites, trying to find their asses.
I let her have a TikTok, but she couldn't have friends, and her page had to remain private.
I made sure to bless her with whatever she needed to cope with being my prisoner.
Yeah. motherfuckers thought I was crazy, but my obsession couldn't allow anyone else to have her. My brother was the only exception. I knew he wanted to fuck her because of what I did to him a couple of years ago. That's why I was in Detroit when I met Jela. I was trying to make amends with him while meeting up with my connect out there. I ran into Jela’s sexy ass instead, and the rest was history. I knew if I let Truce smash, I’d most likely regret it.
If he did take me up on my offer, his ass just wouldn't be invited to my house after.
Now, I was sitting here trying not to hurt my first love but let her down as easily as possible. I wasn't leaving Jela for her, so her attempt at trapping me wasn't going to work.
“Go on with that shit, Britt. I already got one weak hoe to deal with; I don't need another one. You can't have my fucking baby, man. This shit is too messy.”
“But you can fuck me raw and nut in my pussy without dealing with the consequences of your actions?”
“That shit was one time.”
“That's all the fuck it takes! You know what? Get the fuck out of my car! Go be with that boring-ass cunt. She’ll never satisfy you the way I can.”
“She probably won't. I ain't trying to stop fucking with you, baby. We’re in business together. Why do you want to ruin that by throwing a baby in the mix?”
“Because I’d choose having a pregnancy over running packages for you any day. I want what the fuck you promised me, and I ain't stopping until I get it.”
Her last statement held a lot of conviction.
It was one of the reasons I kept Jela out of sight and locked in the house.
The reason I never gave her a car was that I couldn't risk her being out and running into Brittany or these other bitches I kept time with. All their asses were crazy and would hurt her the moment they got their hands on her. They hated her because I gave her the crown. I was protecting her but also making sure she didn’t get any ideas about trying to run back home.
I knew once her bougie-ass mama got ahold of her, she was going to make problems for us.
“If you go forth with this pregnancy, I promise I'm not fucking with you no more.”
“What does she have that I don't? Huh? I know she ain't fucking you right because you keep coming back to me. So, what is it, Dame? I need to know.”
“You came up with the idea to separate—”
“Yeah, but I didn’t go out here claiming another nigga and planning to marry him! Stop fucking swerving! You love that pretty, little raggedy bitch!”
“I do, but I love you too. I have to be here for my daughter.”
“Fuck that bitch-ass baby!”
Before I could stop myself, my hands were around her throat as I squeezed it tightly.
“Call Jela all the bitches you want, but don’t you ever speak on my seed like that.
I’ll kill yo’ stupid ass and leave yo’ body on the side of the highway.
Don’t fucking play with me, Brittany. I draw the fucking line right there. ”
I pushed her away from me as she sobbed. I didn’t care how disrespectful she got about Jela, but Scottlyn would never be a victim of her wrath. I’d seriously hurt anybody who disrespected her in any way.
“Fuck you, Damien! Get out of my car! I hate you!”
I opened the door and attempted to get out, but she pulled me back.
“I love you. I’m only giving you a month to get rid of that bitch, or I’m coming here with my bags and moving in. She can't reap all the benefits, and you’re not about to treat me like I'm second choice.”
I didn’t respond as I got out of her car and closed the door. Brittany pulled out of the driveway as I got inside my whip and pulled off to meet up with my pops.
I pulled into the subsidized housing complex and parked in front of his door.
While I should have been getting ready to meet with the wedding planner with Jela, I was here to see the man who undoubtedly didn’t deserve my presence.
Truce was right about him. The nigga was always right about shit when it came to me, and I hated it.
I had been in contact with Damien Senior three years after Truce immobilized him.
He called me and apologized profusely for what he did to our moms, but I wasn't trying to hear it.
While growing up, my pops did nothing but belittle me. While he never put his hands on me, he always tried to pit me against my brother, saying shit to try to make me hate him.
That nigga Truce thinks he’s better than you.
Truce got mo’ money than you, lil’ nigga. What you gon’ do to get your own?
You gon’ let him outshine you?
What it look like having my son follow in another nigga’s shadow?
The constant nagging in my ear didn’t do shit but make me hate his ass.
He hated on my brother relentlessly and wanted me to one-up him all the time.
It’s the reason I started selling drugs heavily, so that I could be on Truce’s financial level.
He never had to really deal with my pops because he lived with his.
Mr. Iman was a cool dude. He never made me feel unwanted, even though he hated my father and wanted to fuck him up.
Any time I’d go visit my brother during the winter break at their house, I was able to be free and happy without that nigga in my ear.
I never told Truce that Damien had me in a lot of bad shit growing up because I knew Truce would flip out.
He was always calm, but he’d go nuts over the people he loved.
Tru had always been a protector. I found that out when he came to live with us and threatened to beat Damien’s ass the first time we witnessed him put his hands on our moms. The nigga was only thirteen, but his height and build must have intimidated Damien Senior because that nigga started sneak-hitting our moms.
I never really said shit about the hidden hits because I felt like Delilah favored Truce over me, so while I didn’t like to see her get her ass beat, I also didn’t really care too much.
I may have been slightly envious of Truce because he had the better pops, but I could never bring myself to hate him for real.
Every time I wanted to be mad at him or beat his ass, he’d spit some real shit and have me feeling stupid, like this morning.
I knew what I was doing was fucked up, but the man whose doorstep I was walking to told me that in order to make a woman respect me, I had to use physical force.
Hell, clearly the nigga was right because Jela’s used-to-be smart mouth was non-existent now. I knocked on the door, and a few seconds later, his crippled ass answered it.
“Junior… good to see you.”
“Whatever. What you call me here for? I ain't in a good mood today,” I said, brushing past him and going into his refrigerator to grab a beer.
“Damn. You could at least speak, nigga.” He limped over to his chair and extended his hand for me to sit.
I took a seat and popped the top on the beer, guzzling half of it down. “What you want, Damien?”
“Well, I need you to get Truce to move back to Detroit.”
I frowned. “For what?”
“You know what for.”
“No, I don’t. I need you to enlighten me.”
“Him being here is going to fuck up everything you've been working for and building here. Did you know he has ties to the Renegades?”
My brows pinched deeper because that was a rival gang that we had been beefing with recently.
They were a crew of upstanding citizens that was trying to push all the drug dealers out and flush the drugs out of the city.
Juan, the head of the gang, had a personal vendetta against drugs, so he was trying to clean up the city by coming for my territories.
The nigga didn’t even live here, yet he was making moves like he ran shit.
While I wasn't scared of them niggas, it was a known fact that they could be ruthless—and so could I.
“Who told you that?” I asked.
“I hear shit. Law is a part of that gang. Law is your brother’s best friend.”
“Okay? Just because the nigga friends with a Renegade don’t mean he’s on their side. Here you go on that bullshit again,” I said, pointing my beer bottle at him.
“Nigga, I’m trying to protect you! You think his ass walks on water, and being loyal to him by default gon’ fuck you over. You ain't gon’ be satisfied until he shows you just how unloyal his ass is.”
“Mannn, fuck you, Damien! If your reason for inviting me here was to talk about my brother, then I promise you, I’ma cut yo’ ass off. You been doing the same shit for years. Just tell the truth. You scared of my brother, ain’t you?” I gave him a mischievous leer as he scoffed.
“Fuck Truce. And if you don’t want to listen to me, then fuck you too! Get the fuck outta my shit.”
I stood abruptly, crashing the beer bottle over his head and giving him a blow to the face. He fell out of the chair, cowering on the floor while holding his head. I grabbed him by his collar, pulled my gun from my waist, put it to his temple, and looked him in the eyes.
“You better be glad I got a little sympathy for your bitch ass. Otherwise, I’d send you to your ancestors. Don’t call my fucking phone no more. We’re done.” I shoved his head into the floor, then stood upright and headed toward the door.
“You’re stupid! And you're going to regret not listening to me.”
“Fuck you.”
I walked out the door and reached into my pocket for my phone to call up Whitney. Jela’s crybaby ass was getting on my nerves, and Brittany was on bullshit, so I was choosing the next in line.
Realizing I must have left my phone in her car, I took out my burner phone to call Brittany and got inside my car.
“What?” she answered on the third ring.
“Aye, where the fuck you at?”