Chapter 8 #2
Looking back at Daddy, the nigga was smoking his cigar looking like he wanted to laugh. My daddy might have came off as intimidating, but the nigga liked to play jokes and shit all the time. However, most people never got to see that side of him.
“Faheem, I’m over here. Don’t look back at your dad.
” I easily towered over my mom. She was a short woman, maybe 5’4 on a good day, and as easy as it would be to overpower my mom, I feared her more than she did me.
My mom never let her size hold her back.
If she had to, she would use anything and everything she could get her hands on as a weapon.
I was more scared of my mom than my dad.
With my dad, you knew when he was about to get mad.
But my mama, she’d be calm, having you think everything was sweet, then outta nowhere, she’d knock you upside the head with something.
“Ma, listen I–”
“Your son has a big heart like you, my love. I’m afraid it’s got him in sort of a pickle.” Daddy halfway chuckled as he spoke.
“I’m listening,” Mama said, peering skeptically over at my dad.
“He let someone see something they weren’t supposed to see, and now he has to fix it… In an unorthodox kind of way.”
“And how is that?” Mama replied to Daddy but with her eyes glued to me.
“Our boy is about to be a married man.”
“Excuse me!” That was Mama.
“To WHO? Nigga, you got me fucked up.” Then, there was Mixie.
“This finna be good.” And lastly, Frankee.
“Mixie, watch your mouth in my house. I understand you’re shocked. If I’m not cussing in my own home, no one is.” Mama checked Mixie. My mama didn’t play that cussing shit. She stayed getting on Big Frank's ass about his mouth.
“My bad, Mrs.Banks,” Mixie mumbled, probably not meaning it.
“You wanna go get your soon-to-be wife, son?” My daddy's voice was filled with amusement.
I’d brought Juniper here before I went to get Mixie.
Initially, I was only going to tell my mom and Frankee and tell Mixie when we were alone, but Daddy’s messy ass insisted I go get Mixie.
I wasn’t gonna get her, but Daddy knew how to pull my ho card when he called me a pussy.
A nigga could never say shit about me was pussy.
That was how Mixie got here. My daddy was on some bullshit, and I was finna be right with him.
Shaking my head at my messy ass daddy, I turned on my heels heading to the guest room on the second floor. Not surprisingly, Mixie was right behind me. As soon as we were out of ear shot, Mixie was on my ass.
Snatching me back by my arm, I slowly turned around, giving her my attention.
“Tell me this is a fucking joke, Faheem? How long have we been together? Yo’ black ass ain’t never mentioned shit about marrying me, but you you bring me here to tell me you marrying another bitch?” Mixie used her fingers to mush me in the head, smacking her hand from my face.
“Forreal, a nigga ain’t have to tell you shit. I coulda let yo ass find out with the rest of the world. The fuck wrong witchu?” I barked at Mixie. I wasn’t even tryna handle her like that. She had every reason to be pissed with a nigga, but she knew I hated that hands shit.
“Nigga, WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU DEALING WITH? Bitch, act like you know who the fuck I am. I’m the bitch that took a fucking charge for you!” Mixie screamed at the top of her lungs like she’d lost her mind. My parents’ crib was big, but not that fucking big, and she knew that shit.
“Shut the fuck up,” I whisper-yelled at her, looking down the hallway behind her to make sure my parents weren’t coming. “Trust me when I say this shit ain’t real. It’s fucking buisness, I don’t want that bitch.”
“Trust you?” Mixie said with wide eyes, and I knew she was on bullshit. “BITCH, FUCK YO-”
Using my hand to cover her mouth, I pinned Mixie to the wall.
“I swear on my mama, if you don’t chill the fuck out.
Stop disrespectin’ my people’s crib. You got every right to be mad as fuck at me.
I’m not takin’ that from you. If you wanna be done with a nigga, that’s cool too.
I won’t fight you ‘cause I understand that shit. I wouldn’t be cool with no shit like this either. ”
Mixie’s delirious ass started laughing uncontrollably like she was having a nervous breakdown. She wiggled her mouth loose from my hand. Muffled words came from her mouth.
“I’ma move my hand, but if you start yellin’, you gotta go.” Mixie nodded her head in understanding.
“Nigga, you got me fucked up if you think I’m just going to leave you and let another bitch reap all the benefits that I worked my ass off for.
You and that bitch got me fucked up. I’ma allow this dumb shit.
I’m choosing to believe you aren’t dumb enough to fuck me over.
Just know I’m setting the fucking rules.
” Mixie had an intense scowl on her face as she spoke with all her chest. I felt that shit, and I respected what she was saying.
At the end of the day, I was grown as fuck; I did what the fuck I wanted.
If Mixie decided she still wanted to fuck with a nigga, that was cool.
I was with it, but she wasn’t running shit.
I would take what she said into consideration.
Depending on how I felt, we’d go from there.
My loyalty was to Mixie wholeheartedly. Yeah, I wanted to fuck Juniper, and I was going to.
That was it, though. She wasn’t finna trump Mixie because she had the title of my wife.
Not when this shit wasn’t real. I didn’t want to see Juniper lose her life over some shit she really had nothing to do with.
Being a casualty of a war she didn’t want to be in was fucked up.
If signing a piece of paper saying we were married could save Juniper's life, then so be it. If Mixie’s hardheaded ass could shut up and understand this shit for what it is; Mixie was my bitch.
Juniper, I was helping out. Nothing was gonna change how I felt about my situation with Mixie. I hoped Mixie figured that shit out.
“Faheem, what’s taking so long?” I turned my head to the side seeing my mom standing there with her hand on her hip.
“I thought you two got lost with how long you were taking. What I do know is I didn’t raise my son to put his hands on women.
” My mom’s eerily calm voice immediately made me back off of Mixie, putting space between us.
Even though I didn’t hit Mixie or any shit like that, my mom didn’t play about men putting their hands on women.
“Nah, Ma, we were just talkin’.” I rubbed the back of my neck nervously trying to check my mom's temperature.
“Well, I’m sure that girl is sick of being tied up.
Mixie, why don’t you come back to the den with me?
It’s been awhile since we’ve been around each other.
I think we need to be reacquainted.” What my mom said might have sounded like a suggestion, but it was a demand.
I would bet my last dollar that my mom was about to check Mixie.
“I’m not too fond of women putting their hands on my child in my house, and that mouth of yours…
I don’t like.” My mom icily glared at Mixie. “Let’s go.”
Mixie looked at me nervously, but I couldn’t save her.
I was just as scared as she was. Mixie cautiously walked over to my mom then the two of them headed down the hallway.
Shaking my head, I prayed my mom took it easy on Mixie.
Walking to the end of the hall, I went in the last door on the left.
Opening it, I was immediately confused. Juniper wasn’t tied up on the bed where I left her.
Going all the way in the room, I looked around, but I didn’t see her sneaky ass. I swear her ass was an escape artist.
Out the corner of my eye, I saw a figure swing at my head. At the last minute, I ducked then tackled Juniper onto the bed.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS YOU DOIN’?” I barked in her face. These bitches were tryna make me lose my mind.