Chapter 23 #2
Several taps sounded in his background as he coolly breathed.
“Yes, I can do that fo’ you. Um, I ain’t thank y’all would be that close this soon since he’on do shit fo’ Azaria.
But um, I popped up on him last night, not on no bullshit.
But on som’ real nigga shit. He know I kicked in a door where you live ‘cause you went into hidin’.
He know I kissed you. He know I gave you no longer than six months to give me the answer that you ready to be next to a nigga who ain’t gon’ ever put you through no fuck shit.
I know who I am an’ what I did. I got a momma who let me do my thang in the streets but don’t fuckin’ play the radio wit’ me when it come down to puttin’ my hands on a female.
I see therapists faithfully twice a week.
Always have. I laid all my troubles at that nigga’s bent-up shoes.
August Abbott Senior know I don’ filed fo’ divorce …
‘cause my eyes been locked on you too long an’ I ain’t wit’ that cheatin’ shit, being in two homes, an’ doing allathat lyin’.
Ain’t enough meds in the damn world can make me enjoy cheatin’ an’ dealin’ wit’ two households.
Three Black women bitchin’ ‘bout my time an’ where I was gon’ have the mayor an’ governor on Chief’s line tryin’ to figure out what kinda medicines can I get on to settle the fuck down.
Shid, that third Black woman gon’ beat the skeletons from Tiberius, Thames, an’ Tobias fo’ lettin’ me do the most. Them brand new ass leather belts ain’t gon’ have none of our letters or colors on it. She gon’ wear our ass—”
The beautiful laughter that I loved skated around her vehicle as she said, “I get the picture, Thiago. Thanks for being honest about your conversation with August Senior.”
“You welcome. Be safe. If you get in a jam, call me,” he stressed, lovingly as he always had, but this time I heard the extra love in his tone.
Had he always sounded like he a school nigga in love when he closed out their chat? I thought, running through the many conversations they had over the phone and in person.
“I will be safe, and I might call. I’ll keep you posted. Okay?” she said, finger hovering over the end button.
“A’ight. Befo’ you hang up, I need to holla at August Senior,” Thiago exhaled calmly, causing me to stare at his name.
“What’s up?” I said as images of him and Mona becoming a better couple than us flashed before my eyes.
“Whatever you need, concernin’ what happened to August Junior, hit my line.
We gon’ make som’ shit shake. Like I told you many moons ago an’ last night, when it come to them kids …
all bullshit gon’ be to the side an’ we link.
Nih, we need to link on a talkin’ perspective.
I grilled you ‘bout not being in Azaria’s life as you once was.
I told you plainly I was pissed at you fo’ in an’ outtin’ August Junior’s life.
What happened to him ain’t got shit to do wit’ yo’ presence.
That’s all a fuck ass bitch’s doing. I hear yo’ tone.
You so far off in the dark abyss that it hurt me to know you weak as baby shit.
If you keep soundin’ like this, you gon’ either spaz out when too much shit on yo’ plate, or you gon’ stay in that dark abyss, just wigglin’ ‘round like a wiggly worm. Aug, fo’ yo’ son, I need you to come out that dark abyss to put all yo’ attention on him.
If you don’t come from that shit, you ain’t gon’ be able to handle fatherin’ him through this shit.
He need his parents, not solely his momma.
Be that August, we know gon’ shake a two-thousand-year-old tree from the ground.
He need that August. Not the new one who learned som’ cruel shit ‘bout himself. Despite me needin’ yo’ soon-to-be ex-wife as my final wife, I luh you, nigga.
Mona, end the call,” Thiago voiced compassionately.
Thiago’s speech made me feel more like a failure than he did last night.
But that same damn speech put a little fire underneath my feet, making me think the fucking unthinkable.
Something I swore I would never think about, which hurt me.
“Okay,” she acknowledged before pressing the end button.
Through blurry vision and the back-and-forth thoughts of what really needed to be done, I hated envisioning him making Mona happier than I did.
I hated knowing that I fucked up my first and final marriage before it even began.
In my bones, I hated that I didn’t have the strength to fight for my sanity, her, our kids, our love, and our household.
I was a fucking lost cause going into a firestorm, unsure if I was able to come back out unscathed from the smoke and crumbling building.
?????????
Three 6 Mafia’s “Mafia Niggaz” blared so badly that it shook me awake. Furrowing my eyebrows, I sat upright and looked at my surroundings. Through squinty eyes, I noticed Mona gripping the steering wheel tightly while driving fast through a very clean suburban area.
Interrupting the song, an automated voice said, “Your destination is on the right.”
Sitting in the seat upright, I saw Mona’s jaws clench tightly as she rushed to roll down my window. Before I could blink, she upped the Glock and slowly mouthed, ‘All finna get got.”
She slammed on the brakes as the automated voice spoke, “You have arrived at your destination.”
‘Good,’ she mouthed wickedly before firing at three people, standing on the porch looking in our direction.
One by one, they dropped like flies. Their mouths flapped as they scrambled to find cover. Sliding my eyes to her gun, I locked onto her forefinger. She squeezed the trigger three times before putting her weapon in her lap.
Rapidly reversing, the music still pumped as she slowly mouthed, ‘You, that limp, and that shit bag can stay in the truck. Drive around the neighborhood for thirty minutes. Then, you come back and pick me up. While driving around, call Thiago, and tell him I changed my mind. I need to be covered for the duration of my time up here. X owes me that. Tell him to tell her just like that.’
Before I could respond, Mona and her black bookbag full of kidnapping and robbing shit were out of her truck.
Knowing I wasn’t at my full potential to debate or move like I used to, I climbed across her seat like a lil hoe and watched her up the customized stick that I bought her for Valentine’s Day.
After becoming comfortable in the driver’s seat, I drove from the wide driveway. Looking in the rearview mirror, I saw Mona aim her assault rifle at a woman’s face, shoot the man in his left knee, and toss her head backward while looking downward to her left.
Driving down the road, needing to keep a check on my children’s mother, she and those who lived in that house weren’t on the porch. Exhaling sharply, I synced my phone to Mona’s radio. Coming to a stop sign, I didn’t call Thiago. I dialed his boss’s number.
On the sixth ring, X’s stressed tone slid into my ear. “Hello.”
“Me an’ Mona in Louisville, Kentucky. We need yo’ protection fo’ the duration of our stay. Don’t know how long. These Mona’s words. I agree tenfold. ‘X owes me that. Tell her just like that,” I replied, retrieving a blunt and lighter from my pocket while driving from the stop sign.
As if smiling, she said, “What happened?”
“August Junior was date raped by that Henry bitch’s niece.”
“Oh shit. What kind of vehicle y’all in?” she asked quickly as I made a left turn.
“Mona’s truck.”
“A’ight. Hold tight while I get y’all secured fast,” she said urgently before the line went dead.
Six minutes later, X popped back on the line.
“Secured. Make sure the truck’s front end is dropped down and the hazard lights are flashing.
That’s my people’s way of knowing y’all are under my protection.
Clear your head and focus on your son, August Senior.
He is your top priority. My crew and I will be on standby to help if need be.
From one transitioning human to another, I love you, August Senior. ”
“Mhm,” I responded, unwilling to utter those words until I felt that I loved myself, kids, and family.
“Call over,” she said sadly.
I didn’t waste time pressing the end button.
With Three 6 Mafia’s “Mafia Niggaz” blasting, I zipped down the slightly curvy road and fired the blunt.
I hadn’t smoked a blunt since being shot.
I was afraid of what it would do to me mentally.
No longer giving a fuck about getting high and taking prescription medication, I did what the moment called for—to have a ‘fuck it’ attitude about everything, except my firstborn.