Chapter 8
EIGHT
Wallis was quiet but active. Biggie got a kick out of watching him run around his house, messing shit up and leaving a mess everywhere he went.
He never knew if he would have kids, so the bulk of his day was watching Wallis in wonder that the lil’ guy was his.
He’d never been in charge of a kid before, and he couldn’t lie, when he told Tuesday he would watch him that morning, he kind of forgot that would mean him and Wallis would be alone.
His kid was cool, though. He played well by himself, got a little hyper, but nothing Biggie couldn’t handle, and he told him when he wanted to eat and what he wanted to eat.
The only issue Biggie had with him was a bathroom accident at nap time.
When he texted Tuesday about it, she let him know he was potty trained pretty well, but in new places he might be shy about using the bathroom and possibly why he peed on himself.
Biggie showed him his bathroom and talked him through his crying spell as he changed him and his bedsheets.
Other than that, shit had been cool, and he wondered if he had been secretly made for fatherhood.
It seemed pretty okay from where he stood, and him and Wallis had an instant bond.
He meant it when he said there was nothing he wouldn’t do for that lil’ man.
His mama, too, but she would take a little more work.
When Biggie heard his doorbell ring, a smile spread across his face.
He knew that was Wallis’s fine ass mama, and he couldn’t wait to see her.
Their time last night had been more than just sex.
Even he felt that shit. He never felt a connection like that with another woman.
He wondered if it was because they shared a connection through Wallis.
Whatever it was, he knew what he wanted. Tuesday needed to hop on board.
Biggie couldn’t lie…he had a huge crush on his baby mama. Knowing she had carried his seed and taken care of Wallis by herself until now, turned him on in the worst way.
“Stay here, Wallis. That’s ya mama.”
“Mommy!” Wallis cheered from the floor where a circle of dinosaur toys surrounded him.
Biggie chuckled and made his way to the door at the same time his phone vibrated in his pocket. He let it ring as he answered the door, and there stood Tuesday still in her work clothes and looking as beautiful as ever.
“I need to get you a key made.”
She looked at him shyly.
“That’s really not necessary. Is Wallis ready to go?”
She had texted him when she closed up the food truck to let him know she was on her way in hopes that he would have their son ready to go. Unfortunately for her, Biggie had a different agenda.
He cocked his head to the side.
“You not gonna kick it with me tonight?” He pulled her into him by her waist.
She hugged him for a second before pulling away.
“Biggie…”
His phone vibrated in his pocket again, instantly irritating him.
“Hold on, boo.” He pulled his phone out and saw it was Demo calling. “Yeah, man,” he answered.
“I know you playin’ daddy right now, but some shit is goin’ down.
Traps are getting’ hit left and right, and I put my money on Antonio being the cause.
We can’t keep up with all the hits. I don’t know how this nigga got so many men on his side, but shit is fucked up and bad right now.
I need you out in these streets with me, bro. ”
Biggie huffed as he swiped a hand down his face.
This was not how he wanted his night to go.
He would’ve rather spent time with his son and dug up in his baby mama’s guts once or twice more, but duty called.
It always did. He was just glad Demo didn’t hit him up until now so he wouldn’t be forced to turn him down since he had Wallis.
“Aight, man. Drop your location, and I’ll be meet up with you in a minute. Let me just get my lil’ man right.”
“Hurry, bro,” Demo said before ending the call.
Tuesday peered at him sadly.
“I’ll get Wallis.”
She tried stepping by him, but he stopped her and pulled his house keys off the hook by the door.
“Take this. Go home and pack you and Wallis a bag. I want you to be here when I get home.”
Tuesday’s brows scrunched together.
“I really don’t think that’s a good idea. We have a lot to sort out. I don’t want to confuse things between us.”
Once again, he pulled her by the waist into him as he looked down at her. “You’re the only one confused, Tuesday. Please do what I said. I have to go.”
“Are you going to be okay?” she asked. She realized this wasn’t the kind of life she wanted. As into Biggie as she was and wanted to be, she couldn’t allow herself to fall into this kind of lifestyle—always worrying about him every time he stepped foot out the door.
Biggie leaned down and kissed her cheek before kissing her lips.
“I’m always okay, mama. I’ll be back soon. Be here when I get home, okay?”
“Okay,” she lowly answered, watching as he quickly loved on Wallis for a minute before he left the house, leaving her to lock up and go get a spend the night bag for her and Wallis, wondering what the hell she was getting into.
Biggie and Demo cruised down the street as they checked in on all their trap houses that had been hit.
Their men were in complete chaos as they tried tracking down Antonio.
He had been so efficient with his hits; it left a lot of men dead and a lot of money and product missing.
Biggie was hot. This was the last thing he wanted to worry about.
Antonio officially had a target on his back.
Him and Demo put it out that the first nigga to bring Antonio to them alive would have a huge payday.
“Shit ain’t making no sense,” Demo said. “How he pull this shit off?”
Night had fallen, and they were cruising around the areas their blocks were located. Before Biggie could respond, both their phones started blowing up. Demo kept driving while Biggie answered his.
“Yeah.”
“Boss, we got Antonio over on Grape Street. I just pulled up, and it’s a big ass brawl. Only a matter of time before guns are drawn,” one of Biggie’s young soldiers explained.
“We’re a minute away.” Biggie hung up, telling Demo where to go.
When they pulled up, they saw about twenty niggas going at it, but Biggie only had eyes for one. Antonio was in the middle of the brawl, getting his ass beat by two niggas.
Hopping out the car, Biggie held his gun at his side, but then he tucked it back into the waistband of his pants.
There were too many witnesses, and he couldn’t move recklessly like that anymore.
His mind raced as he thought of how to isolate Antonio from everyone so he could kill him without implicating himself.
The issue with that was if all these niggas, especially the ones on Antonio’s side, saw him dragging Antonio out of there and he popped up dead, everyone would be able to put two and two together, fingering him.
As he thought and made his way toward Antonio, dodging niggas throwing fists and some even using knives, he realized time was of the essence. As his young boy said, it was only a matter of time before guns were drawn and bullets, flying.
A sharp pain in Biggie’s side caused him to stop.
His hand quickly found his side, as he felt warm blood ooze from a wound that hadn’t been there a second ago.
His scowl found a lil’ nigga shaking in his wheat colored boots, looking like he realized who he’d just stabbed.
Biggie wanted to shoot the nigga or grab him by the neck and squeeze the life out of him.
The pain in his side was minimal compared to his rage, but Wallis flashed through his mind, and it halted his movements.
When Tuesday’s smile filtered through his thoughts, he knew he needed to chill.
It was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but instead of taking his gun out kill him, Biggie threw a brutal punch to the nigga’s temple, dropping him instantly.
Two more niggas came at him, throwing fists, and Biggie knew he was being tested. He gritted his teeth and ate the hits before throwing a series of his own. Before he could really get busy, and before he could get to Antonio, gun shots rang out.
Everyone scattered like roaches or hit the floor. Biggie stayed standing and looked around before his eyes landed on Demo, who had his gun pointing in the air.
“Let’s go, nigga!”
Biggie looked around for Antonio, but he didn’t see him, which enraged him.
“Come on, man. Now ain’t the time. You hurt,” Demo choked out.
Biggie looked down at his side and felt his temple throbbing as he moved. Realizing Demo was right, he quickly walked back over to his homie’s truck and hopped in the passenger’s seat; the full scale of his injuries hitting him. It hurt to move, and he was losing blood fast.
“You good, bro? We need to get a doctor?” Demo asked as he got into the truck and sped off just as someone shot at them.
“Just take me home,” Biggie said through gritted teeth.
Demo glanced at him concerned, but he didn’t argue. He knew Biggie didn’t like doctors to be in his business, but he worried this was more serious than Biggie’s stubbornness.
“Man, you sure? You need some help—”
“I’ll have my baby mama stitch me up. Just take me home.” Biggie breathed slowly, trying to work through the pain as thoughts of killing Antonio fueled his need for survival.
“Oh my God,” Tuesday cried out. “What the hell happened?”
“He got stabbed and a few hits to his head,” Demo explained as he made his way into Biggie’s house, helping his friend onto the couch; Biggie’s arm was loosely around his neck.
“What the hell—”
“Where’s my son?” Biggie asked through gritted teeth.
“He’s asleep. Biggie, what the hell?” Tuesday said, fully panicking by now.
“I need you to go into my bathroom and grab the first aid kit. It should have everything you need to stitch me up.”
“Stitch you up? Are you insane? I’m not a doctor, Biggie. We need to go to the hospital.”
“Aye, ma, you have to do us this solid before he bleeds out. He’s already lost a lot of blood,” Demo said.
“Nigga, why can’t you do it?” she shot back.
“Cut out all that arguing and shit and quiet down before you wake my son up,” Biggie said before wincing in pain. “Go get the first aid kit, Tuesday. This nigga will faint if he has to stitch me up. I need you right now, ma.”
Tuesday stared at him for a few seconds before stomping off toward the stairs.
Demo took a seat in the chair across the room, as far away from Biggie as he could get. He had killed a few niggas before for sure, but blood definitely made him queasy when it was up close and personal.
When Tuesday came back down, she had a determined but pissed off look on her face as she kneeled beside Biggie and cut his shirt off. “Damnit, Biggie.”
The wound wasn’t long, but it was deep. She didn’t know the first thing about stitching something up like this, but she couldn’t allow her stubborn baby daddy to die on her watch.
First, she cleaned around the wound as best she could before pouring alcohol on it. Biggie grunted in pain, but she stayed focused. When she pulled out the thread and needle, she gulped and prayed she didn’t get too freaked out to finish the job.
With steady hands, she did the first stitch; Biggie grunted, cussing from the pain the entire time, but Tuesday kept going.
Several minutes later, when she was done, she stood and left the mess she made right where it was as she pointed a finger at Biggie.
“I am not making this a habit. Let this be the first and last time I have to do some shit like this. I’m not one of those down ass bitches you find around the way.
Get your shit together, Wallis.” She pointed a finger at Demo.
“You better stay here and make sure he has everything he needs. I’m taking my son and going home. ”
“The fuck you are,” Biggie barked. She glared at him, and he backed down slightly, causing him to sigh. “Man, please. I need y’all here.”
She sucked her teeth but realized she didn’t really want to go anywhere so she could make sure he made it through the night, so she looked at Demo.
“You still need to stay. I’m not playing nurse all night.”
Demo held up his hands in mock surrender as she walked away. When she was upstairs, Demo whistled. “Man, you better tread lightly with that one.”
Biggie was nodding off, but he had to agree with his friend. He definitely needed to tread lightly with Tuesday.