26. Reflecting
Reflecting
Iducked off to a hotel. I kept telling myself that I needed to sleep—all I needed was a good night’s sleep, and then I would go home. But it was the next day, and I was still sitting in the hotel room looking crazy.
Islah had my heart. I loved everything about her. What I hated was what she went through, and her trying to compare me to that nigga.
I walked laps around that room trying to figure out what I had done to make her think I would do her like that nigga did after all I have done to make sure she was content.
After a while of walking in circles, I sat down and was ready to smoke, and realized I didn’t have shit with me, and I didn’t feel like getting any.
I took my phone outta my pocket and sent Sammy the address, telling him to bring me some weed when he closed up the shop.
Then I looked at all the times Islah called and texted.
I was about to text her or call her back, but I stopped myself. She needed to figure out what she wanted with and from me.
The day moved on; I got myself some food and a bottle of Henny delivered and took shots, thinking about what I should do when I got a call from the police chief.
“Yo?” I said as I picked up the phone.
“We need to talk,” he said. “Come to my house.”
I hung up and sucked my teeth. The last thing I wanted to do was deal with his shit, but it looked like I was going to have to.
I grabbed my keys off the table and took the lil’ drive to his crib, the whole time trying to figure out what the fuck he wanted.
When I got there, I knocked on the door, and a woman instantly opened it and pointed me in the direction of Hank’s office.
I walked down the hall and busted into the room.
“What the hell are you bothering me for?” I said, thinking it would be for Hank, but his son was there too.
“You are being bothered because you have been causing too much shit in my city,” Hank Jr. said. “Car chases, YNs all over the city more than normal. I just know that shit had to do with you, and then the death of your baby mama.”
I stood there looking back and forth at them.
“Again…what the fuck did you bother me for?”
Hank Jr. threw his hands up in the air and shook his head.
“It’s too much going on,” Hank said.
“It’s nothing goin’ on now. My girl is home, and I put my niggas away,” I responded.
“Somebody has to answer for Ms. Baits death.
I smirked. “And why is that so?”
“Because her momma is on our backs to give her an answer, Love,” Hank Jr. stated, then they stared at me.
“Y’all called me in here to try to take me in?” I asked.
Hank exhaled. “Listen, I know you did it. You know you did it. Just let us handle it the right way.”
“Y’all got me fucked up! Didn’t I just pay you to handle all this shit?”
Lil’ Hank looked at his Daddy.
“So you’re still taking money from him?” Hank Jr. asked.
I laughed. “I can tell you this, y’all will never take me, but I can help you give her mama an answer.”
They looked at each other like they were thinking it over.
“What do you have in mind?” Hank asked, leaving his son standing there getting madder by the second.
“I’ma tell you this, but don’t ask me questions you don’t want the answers to.”
They both nodded.
“It’s a nigga in California that she was talking to. Gio, Gio Carter. I just happen to know that he is no longer living.”
“And how the fuck do you know that?” Hank Jr. asked.
I smirked. “Like I said, don’t ask shit you don’t want the real answer to.”
He looked at his dad, shaking his head.
“And if I do this?” Hank asked. “What else does the police commission get?”
I walked back toward the door, already knowing what the fuck this was all about.
“I will send a nice check to you, just get this shit off me.”
I looked at Hank Jr., Hank looked at Hank Jr., and he finally nodded.
“I guess I will take care of it.”
“Get on it then.”
I walked outta there and went back to the hotel, and as soon as I was alone, my mind focused back on Islah. I sat on the couch and drank while flipping through the channels, wanting to talk to her but honestly not knowing what to say, when I heard a knock at the door.
I got up and stumbled to the door, swinging it open to see Keith and Sammy standing there.
“Oh shit,” they both said at the same time.
I sucked my teeth and turned back around to go sit my drunk ass down.
“I told you that nigga wasn’t right,” Sammy said, closing the door behind him.
“What the fuck is going on?” Keith asked as he sat down across from me.
“Islah…Islah don’t know if she wants to marry me.”
Sammy and Keith looked at each other.
“I know you are fucking lying!” Sammy yelled out as he threw my pack and my blunts on the table in front of me.
“What the fuck happened?” Keith asked.
“I don’t fuckin’ know. We were at Katie’s, people were asking her a wedding date, and she didn’t know. But I was watching her expression. It wasn’t how it used to be. It was like…she wasn’t happy.”
“Did you try to talk to her?” Sammy asked.
I nodded as I started to roll up. “I did. She kept sayin’ she didn’t know and some shit about Gio. How she thought about me doing what he did to her.”
“What the fuck,” Keith expressed. I nodded. That’s the same way I felt.
“I have never stepped for a girl the same way I stepped for her, and it feels like she is telling me that it’s not good enough.”
“I feel that,” Sammy added. “So, what are you going to do?”
I took another sip from the bottle and shrugged.
“I don’t know. I love her…I love her. I want a life with her. She’s carrying my damn baby. I don’t want to let us go. Does that shit make me a simp?”
Sammy and Keith laughed.
“Nigga, you know damn well you ain’t no damn simp,” Sammy said.
“You are just in love,” Keith added. “You love Islah, and she hurt your feelings.”
I chuckled to myself. “Hurt my feelings?” I repeated. “I ain’t ever had my feelings hurt.”
“It’s a first for everything,” Sammy said. “And they say the closest one to you is the one who hurts you.”
I nodded. “So what do I do?”
“Go home and talk to your girl,” Keith said. Sammy nodded his head, agreeing.
I sat there in silence for a second, thinking about it.
“She said she was scared that I would cheat or do something like Gio. That’s all I keep replaying in my head.”
“So are you going home?” Keith asked.
I shook my head. “Nah, I’ma sit back. Drink my bottle and smoke until I pass out. At the end of the day, I never hurt Islah, never wanted to, and never would. I want her to make up her mind on what she wants.”
“And what does Love want?” Sammy asked.
“That shouldn’t even be a question,” I responded. “I want her…”
After my niggas left, I sat in that room alone, staring at pictures of me and Islah or pictures that I took of her.
It’s crazy how they say you can’t remember what life was like before you have a baby. I couldn’t remember what life was like after Islah came into mine.
I picked my phone up off the couch beside me. I was fighting everything in my body not to call Islah, and I called Amir instead.
“Hey, Dad,” he said, picking up quick.
“Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, just playin’ the game. Islah ordered us some food.”
Hearing her name made my heart skip a beat.
“Is she okay?” I asked.
“She’s good. Her girls are here. They were burning something in the backyard and cheering.”
I laughed, not even wanting to know what it was.
“I am glad y’all are okay. I—”
“Are you and Islah breaking up?” he asked, cutting me off.
“Why you ask that?”
“Because I heard her talking to Kenya, Deja, and Renee. She said she didn’t want to lose you.”
That made me smirk. “No, son, we are not breaking up. We are just figuring things out.”
“So when are you coming home then?”
“Give me a day or two, and I will be home.”
“Okay, Dad.”
After hanging up with Amir, I could have grabbed the few things I had and taken my ass back home, but instead, I sat there.
I sat there and planned my future with Islah. What the next steps were, our baby, and how I was going to make it known to her for the rest of her life that I was never like no nigga that she would ever run across.
I had a plan for us. I just needed to make sure we were going to be on the same page.
I passed out in the living room and woke up early as hell in the same spot I went to sleep in. When I looked at my phone, I had a message from Islah.
I just wanted to say I love you, was all that she said. I typed out a long message to respond to her with, but after reading through it, I deleted it and placed an order for delivery.
Once my order got to my room, I went into the bathroom, brushed my teeth, took a shower, and got myself together. The whole time, Islah was running circles in my mind.
The next morning, after sliding into some sweats and a white tee, I slid my weed and my keys in my pocket and walked out of the room.
I took a lil’ ride through the city, my phone in my hand the whole time, ready to call Islah, but I was putting that shit off.
I stopped, got some breakfast and some coffee, and drove to the store.
It was already live by the time I got there, people walking in and out of my store and of the barbershop I was beside. I parked right in front and hopped out to hear niggas yellin’ my name.
I dapped up a few of them up, then walked into my store to get the same treatment.
Keith gave me a nod before I walked into my office. I sat down at my desk and started to roll up before I did anything else.
“Everything good?” Keith came in asking.
I nodded. “I guess so, ’bout to get some work done.”
After putting my smoke in the air, I closed the blinds to my office and started working on a custom ring for a customer. I was putting each diamond in one by one, each one taking me back to when I made the ring for Islah.
I sat the ring down on my desk and shook my head as I rubbed my face.
I needed to call her. My mind was telling me that in a different way, I just wasn’t listening.
I picked up my phone, going to my call log about to call her, when I heard a knock at the door.
“Yo,” I yelled out.
The door opened, and she walked in.