Chapter 47
The only thing that kept me from killing that nigga was my kids screaming and crying.
It took Eva physically jumping on my back, to stop me from running out there and doing that nigga in. Coming to my home and trying to check me—what the fuck?
And Devon's bitch ass—I know he gave him my address. But I had something for his ass.
And my wife—she had been throwing a fit since it happened. Fussing. Crying. Hollering. I couldn't even piss without her being on my back. Every time I walked out the door, she was right next to me smothering the shit out of me.
I couldn't live like this.
The way she was hovering made me feel like I was back in prison, and I'll be damned if I let anyone dictate my moves like that again.
Fuck that.
Me and Eva were taking the kids to her moms for Memorial weekend.
Eva wanted us to have some private time as if she wasn't breathing down my neck already.
I hugged and kissed my kids and gave them both $500 for the weekend to do whatever.
They had been on edge too, but they were all smiles when that money hit their hand.
"I love y'all. Behave this weekend, aight?" I told them.
"Thanks, Dad! Love you too!" they echoed.
Eva stood by the passenger door when she noticed me get back into the driver's seat. "You're not going to come in and say hi to mama?" she asked.
"Nah—" I shook my head. "Tell OG I said what up though."
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'll be back in a minute."
"Take your time," I said. "I'll be here."
She stared at me for a few seconds before closing the door and leading the twins toward the entrance.
Once I was sure they were in, I started the car and pulled off.
She was gonna be hot as fish grease over this but I just needed a moment to myself.
I would be back home eventually. To avoid snapping at her—she had to let me have this.
I made my way to my apartment, and as soon as I stepped in, my shoulders dropped in relief. I grabbed my bourbon and my glass plopping down on the couch. Sipping, I scrolled on Gianna's IG account from a fake profile I made.
She had hundreds of thousands of followers. Her sexy ass. I missed her so goddamn much that if she was in front of me, I would drop to my knees and beg her to give me a chance.
I knew that chef nigga loved her by the way he pulled up. I could give him my respect for that. But he didn't love her like I did.
Nah—he couldn't.
He wasn't ready to die behind her.
I was.
I DM'd her. Let her know how fucking beautiful she was and I would give her the world if she gave me a chance. She had blocked the last three accounts I created, but I wasn't discouraged.
I was feeling looser after a while. The liquor had settled in me. My phone kept vibrating with texts and calls from my wife, but I ignored them. I just needed a few more hours. That's all.
A couple of hours later, I was six shots in when I heard a knock on my door. I paused, cup paused mid-air, my face twisted in confusion. Had to be a mistake. But then another knock—harder and more persistent.
"The fuck," I mumbled to myself. Setting the cup down, I picked up my gun from the coffee table and stood. Creeping to the door, I looked out the peephole but whoever it was covered the hole.
I stayed quiet as the knocking started turning into beating. I was about to yank that bitch open and put my gun in whoever's face it was until I heard her voice—
"Bishop! I know you're in there. Open this muthafucking door before I scream!" she shouted.
How the hell she figure out where I was?
"BISHOP!" she roared kicking the door now.
"Fuck!" I gritted to myself. With a heavy breath, I slowly opened the door.
Eva pushed past me, face full of rage. "Didn't think I knew about your little hideaway, did you?" she spit out.
Closing and locking the door, I turned to her. "What are you doing here, Eva?" I asked calmly.
"You left me!" She shoved my chest hard. "What the hell is wrong with you, Bishop?!"
I shrugged. "I needed some space." Running my hand down my beard, I walked past her and placed my gun back on the table. "You been all on my ass and I ain't with that shit."
"Maybe because a nigga came to our home and claimed you've been stalking his girl!" she retorted.
"And I told you, that nigga was lying." I gave her blank look. "You gon' believe another man over your own husband?"
She stared at me, eyes boring into mine. "Oh, you are a real fucking piece of work." She shook her head, voice hard and bitter. "No man does that for no reason, Bishop."
I picked my cup up and just stared at her. "You came here to argue? Again?" I shook my head and took a sip. "And you wondering why the fuck I left."
"Fuck you!" Her voice started rising again. "You got me feeling crazy!"
"You acting crazy," I muttered taking another sip.
Eva snatched the glass out my hand and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the wall.
"Bitch, what the fuck!" I snapped, eyes wide.
"What the fuck is WRONG with you?!" she screamed back. Tears streamed down her face. "You don't touch me! You don't talk to me! You barely even look at me anymore!"
I exhaled hard trying not to lose my temper. "I told you already—I got a lot on my mind."
"No." She shook her head wildly. "No. It's HER on your mind. It's that bitch Gianna—I know it." She stared at me for a tense moment. "You…love her, don't you?" she asked carefully.
Silence. Just for half a second but long enough to make an impact. Her face changed immediately. Anger and devastation. "Oh my God." Her voice cracked. "It's all true. You do love her!"
I rubbed my hand down my face already exhausted. "Eva—"
"No!" she screamed backing away from me. "Don't fucking lie to me again!"
She looked around the apartment wildly. At the extra clothes. The liquor bottles. Then her eyes landed on the duffle bag sitting near the couch. Before I could snatch it up, she dashed over with a speed I had never seen her have and grabbed it.
"Eva, no!" I tried to grab it out her hand.
"NO!" She drew back and smacked the shit out of me momentarily stunning me. My hand flew to my cheek as she yanked open the bag.
Her eyes widened in horror. Mouth wide open. "Oh my God—" she whispered.
"It's not what you think." I reached out for her.
"Don’t touch me!" she screamed jumping back before reaching in and pulling out a handful of Gianna's panties. "You SICK bastard! Remy was right!"
"Listen to me—" I held up my hands trying to keep my voice leveled. "I know it looks bad…"
"It looks BAD?!" she screeched. "You're a fucking pervert, Bishop!" She tossed the bag towards me, colorful underwear flying everywhere. "What kind of man did I marry?!"
"The kind of man who took care of you from day one!' I barked finally losing my temper.
"The kind of man who spoiled you and made sure you never wanted for anything?!"
"So that gives you the right to fuck and fall in love with a whore?!" She jabbed her finger accusingly at me. "I've let you have your fun, but you took it too fucking far this time!"
"So LEAVE then!" I roared so loud the vein in my neck throbbed. "If you don't like the way a nigga living, move the FUCK around, Eva!"
She gasped, eyes wild staring at me in shocked silence. "You would leave your wife and kids…for a whore?" she said between clenched teeth.
"I would never leave my kids, Eva," I corrected, tone even but hard.
She blinked rapidly, tears falling heavy. "After everything I've done for you?"
I shook my head. "Stop. Don't act like a martyr," I replied voice low and heavy. "You got everything you wanted out of me."
Her lips trembled. Her body shook. A part of me wanted to pull her into my arms and comfort her—but the other part of me was just tired. The shit was out in the air now and honestly…I felt relieved.
"Look…I didn't want shit to go down this way," I said calmy. "But things ain't been what they were in a few years, Eva."
"We've only been married for five, Bishop," she choked out.
"I know—" I exhaled. "Maybe I just wasn't ready for this kind of commitment. Fresh out the joint," I tried to explain. "I fucked up—that's on me."
"No." She shook her head in disbelief. "We have kids. You told me you loved me."
"And I did," I said.
She stared at me again. "You…did?"
Closing my eyes I racked my brain for what to say that wouldn't sound fucked up.
"People grow apart," was all I could muster.
I scooped my keys and gun off the table.
"Look. I'ma head out. I don’t wanna say nothing else to hurt you.
I'ma just…grab a hotel, and in a few days, we can talk about what's next. "
"So—you're just leaving?" she gawked at me.
"I mean—what else you want me to say?" I asked at a loss for words.
She didn’t respond. Just stayed silent. With a nod, I turned to walk out. I got to the door when suddenly, I heard the rush of footsteps. Before I could turn, I felt a heavy thud on the back of my head.
Pain exploded across the back of my skull. "UGH—" My vision blurred violently as I stumbled forward crashing into the wall beside the door. The gun slipped from my hand hitting the hardwood with a loud clatter. "What the FUCK?!" I slurred turning halfway.
Eva stood there breathing hard. Both hands wrapped around one of the heavy, sharp-edged, glass liquor bottles from the counter. The bottom of it stained red.
My blood.
We stared at each other.
Her face changed instantly. The rage disappeared replaced by horror. "Oh my God…" she whispered.
I touched the back of my head slowly. My fingers came back bloody. I could feel it pouring down my neck. The room tilted slightly. "Eva…" I frowned in disbelief. "What the fuck…"
"I—" The bottle slipped from her fingers. "I didn't mean—"
I tried to steady myself against the wall, but my legs buckled hard underneath me. My shoulder slammed into the edge of the table before I hit the floor. Everything felt wrong suddenly. Too warm. Too loud.
Eva rushed toward me then dropped to her knees. "Bishop!" Her hands hovered over me frantically not knowing where to touch. "Oh my God—oh my God—"
Blood was spreading fast beneath my head. Way too fast. "You hit me hard as shit," I muttered dazed.
Tears poured down her face. "I didn't mean to!" she cried. "You scared me—I wasn't—I didn't—"
"Aight…" I blinked slowly trying to focus on her face. "Aight. Just call 911."
But Eva froze.
And that's when fear finally crept into me. "Eva." My voice sounded strange now. Thick. Slower. "Call the ambulance."
She shook her head rapidly, hands trembling harder. "No no no no…" Her breathing became sharp and uneven. "The kids…"
"What?" I tried pushing myself up, but dizziness slammed into me instantly. "Eva—"
"The kids!" she cried louder. "What happens to the twins if I go to jail?!"
"You not gon'—" I stopped, swallowing hard as nausea rolled through me. "Just call."
But she wasn’t hearing me anymore. She had crossed into full panic now. Pacing. Crying. Talking to herself. "I can't go to prison." She pressed both hands to her head. "I can't. I can't. My babies need me."
Blood kept pouring warm beneath my skull. I could feel my body getting heavier.
Colder. The bourbon in my system wasn’t helping either. Everything around me felt muffled and distant like I was underwater.
"Eva…" I slurred again trying to focus on her blurry shape moving around the apartment. "Phone."
She looked at me. And seeing the blood seemed to make her spiral worse. She dropped beside me again sobbing hard now. "I'm sorry!" she cried. "I'm sorry! You made me so mad and I just—"
Her words started drifting. Or maybe my hearing was. I blinked slowly staring up at the ceiling. A weird calm started settling over me then.
My kids crossed my mind first.
Then my wife.
Then…
Gianna.
Always fucking Gianna. I wondered what she was doing right now. If she was thinking about me too.
Eva's crying sounded farther away now. My eyelids felt heavy as hell.
"Bishop!" she grabbed my face suddenly. "Stay awake!"
I tried. But darkness kept pulling harder. "Tell the twins…" I swallowed thickly fighting to get the words out. "Tell 'em Daddy love 'em."
Fresh sobs ripped out her chest.
I turned my head slightly toward her voice though I could barely see her anymore. "Eva?"
"Y-Yes?" she choked out.
Despite everything…I wasn't mad at her. "Call somebody," I whispered weakly. Then the darkness finally swallowed me whole.