20. Paisley Bernard
Rah Jr. was running around the living room, playing with his toys. I was glad he was feeling better, but me? I was still livid.
Boxes filled with my things sat off to the side, and I shook my head. The movers could’ve at least put them in the garage, but I guess that wouldn’t have made much sense, huh? He had told me I only had a few days to stay here.
What a fucking joke.
I watched my baby for a few seconds before stepping onto the back patio.
I pulled the door almost completely shut, leaving it cracked just enough for me to hear my baby if he called for me. I wasn’t sure if PB had this place bugged, and I damn sure didn’t need any cameras recording me or his security listening to what I was about to say.
I had thought long and hard about this shit. I had been up for most of the night, staring at the ceiling while everything he had done replayed in my head.
He had some fucking nerve treating me like I was nothing.
PB wasn’t the same nigga he used to be. Somewhere along the way, he had changed.
Yeah, he took care of me, but whoop-de-doo. I could take care of myself if I wanted to.
And yeah, I might’ve been dead-ass wrong for shooting at him, but I had been heated. I was pissed, and in that moment, I wasn’t thinking clearly. But for him to turn around and tell me he was going after full custody of Summer?
That shit wasn’t about to fucking fly with me.
I looked through the small opening in the patio door to make sure Rah Jr. was still playing before scrolling through my contacts and stopping on his daddy’s name.
Rah and I hadn’t spoken much since he and PB had gotten into it.
He was still pissed about everything that had happened, even though none of it had been my fault.
All I had been trying to do that day was make sure he and his son stayed connected.
I had picked him up so we could take Rah Jr. to the park and have a good day.
Everything that happened in between wasn’t intentional. I hadn’t been trying to hurt PB or stir up more shit between him and Rah, knowing they already couldn’t stand each other.
Either way, I had something for PB’s ass now.
I pressed Rah’s name and brought the phone to my ear. It rang until his voicemail picked up.
“Of fucking course.”
I ended the call and tapped my phone against my thigh, becoming more irritated by the second. I called him again, and this time, he answered on damn near the last ring.
“What?” he answered.
I rolled my eyes. “So, you can’t answer the fucking phone?”
“Paisley, what do you want?”
“No, better yet, you can’t pick up the phone and call to check on your fucking son? He was under the weather. I had to take him to the hospital…but you wouldn’t know that because you never call.”
“Man, I’m not trying to hear none of that shit. What do you want Pais?”
My jaw tightened, and I decided to get straight to the point.
“I want to offer you some money.”
“Money for what?”
“Will you just shut the fuck up and let me talk?”
The line went quiet.
I glanced around the patio. There were security guards posted around the property, but none of them were close enough to hear me.
I lowered my voice anyway.
“PB is trying to take my daughter from me, and I’m not letting that shit happen.”
Rah remained silent.
“He told me he’s filing for full custody of Summer.”
“What that got to do with me?”
“Every time PB gave me money, I didn’t spend all of it. I put plenty of that shit to the side. I can give you ten thousand.”
“Give me ten bands for what?”
I stared through the patio door at Rah Jr. He was sitting on the floor now, pushing one of his toy cars across the rug.
“To take him out.”
Rah laughed. “Man, you tripping.”
“I’m not fucking playing, Rah.”
He continued laughing, but I didn’t say anything else.
Eventually, his laughter faded.
“I want him dead,” I said.
There was a long silence on the other end of the phone.
“You serious?”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?”
“A hunnid,” he finally said.
My eyebrows pulled together. “A hundred what?”
“100k. I’m not killing no nigga for ten fucking bands, especially not that nigga. I know you got more money than that, so either you run me 100k, or I’m not doing shit. And I need half up front.”
For a split second, I wondered if I was taking this too far.
Then I pictured PB standing across from me, calling me a snake. Telling me I was dead to him.
I put the phone back to my ear.
“50k. That’s my final offer, and you’ll get it in cash once the job is done.”
“Man, fuck no. I just told you I need half up front.”
“And how the fuck am I supposed to hand you 25k when PB has security watching my every move? One of them is walking around the property right now. You know I have the money, Rah. Handle the job, and I got you.”
He went silent.
“Aight…you better not be playing with me, Paisley.”
“I’m not.”
That was a lie. Rah was never touching a dime of that money.
“That 50k better be in my hand when this shit is over.”
“It will, but I need to know when you can get it done,” I continued.
“When you need it done?”
“Today.” I blurted out.
“Shit…where he at?”
“I have two addresses where I think he might be.”
The first address was for the apartment I had tracked him to, and the second was for that bitch’s little boutique office.
Finding it hadn’t been hard once I put my mind to it.
I called the Business Innovator office, pretending I wanted to find the designer who made the dress Nourah wore that night.
I mentioned that she was the girlfriend of the honoree and told the receptionist the dress was so gorgeous that I wanted the designer to make my wedding gown and bridesmaids’ dresses.
The receptionist checked the seating list and gave me the full name of PB’s guest. I even asked her to spell it.
Nourah Marcell. Hmm.
With the way the bitch spelled her first name, she popped up almost immediately. From there, I found her business, Bodied By NouNou, and the address listed for custom fittings and local pickups.
“One address is where she stays, and the other is where she works,” I told Rah. “All you have to do is check both. I’m sure he’ll pop up at one of them.”
“What are the addresses?”
“Hold on.”
I opened the notes on my phone and found where I had saved them.
“Don’t text none of that shit to me,” Rah warned.
“I wasn’t.”
I read both addresses to him slowly, making sure he heard every number correctly.
“I’ll let you know when the job is done,” he said.
“Okay.”
He ended the call without saying anything else.
I lowered the phone as one of PB’s security guards walked past the patio.
“Everything okay, Miss Bernard?” he asked, making me jump.
“Yeah, everything is fine. And you don’t have to keep watching me all the fucking time. I’m good. Go away.”
He looked at me for a moment before walking off.
I waved him away, pulled open the patio door, and went back inside. Rah Jr. was still sitting on the floor, surrounded by toys, making little engine noises as he rolled his car across the rug.
I sat on the couch and watched him play. A slow smile spread across my face.
After the way Rah had beaten me and treated me like I was nothing, he was going to handle PB, and then I was going to make sure his ass rotted in prison for it.
By the time this was over, both of them would be out of my life.