Chapter 5
“Baby girl, I’m a different kind of nigga…”
LOCKLYNN DAVENPORT
The following morning…
“That’s the third house we have seen that we can’t seem to agree on,” Alba huffed as we entered my small ass studio apartment together.
I’d been quiet the entire drive back from the real estate office.
We were on the hunt for the last two months for a house to move into.
Since a nigga had his paper up, it was time for something bigger.
I closed the door behind us and followed the sway of her hips as she sauntered into the living room and plopped down on the leather sectional.
Summer wasn’t too far ahead, and the sundress she wore clung to her.
Her stomach poked out, and she pulled her braids up in a bun on top of her head.
Alba’s skin was smooth and flawless as she swiped some of her baby hair and kicked her sandals off.
I tossed my keys on the accent table near the door and moved toward my kitchen.
I could feel her inquisitive orbs all over me.
She was right. We couldn’t agree on much of anything these days.
At four months pregnant, as happy as I was about my baby, I still wasn’t all the way in like she was.
Don’t get me wrong; she was my ace. I wouldn’t know what to do without her, and despite her being pregnant with my seed, we were even more rooted.
Things with us now versus where we were a year ago was enough to leave a nigga’s head spinning.
“What’s going on with you?” Alba asked, reaching out to caress her swollen belly.
I opened the fridge and grabbed a brew. After twisting the cap off, I turned to face her. She kicked her feet up on the sofa and waited expectantly for me to answer. I didn’t have anything that she would want to hear right now while gulping from the Heineken bottle.
“Nothing,” I answered, lying.
I had some other shit going on with business, and it was leaving me open and distracted.
I was doing everything that I could to keep Alba happy, but she knew me too damn well.
Our mothers worked together. They would hang out and party almost every weekend when we were coming up as kids.
That meant that we were always at one another’s house, so we were pretty much raised together.
We went to the same schools and lived on the same block for the longest. Even when she and her mother moved, she still wasn’t more than ten minutes away.
“Yeah? Well, your face and entire mood say otherwise,” she countered. “And I bet I know what it’s about.” She sighed heavily.
“Everything ain’t about Harbor,” I muttered, tired of having the round-and-round conversation.
“You think I believe that?” she fired back. “It all comes back around to her. She’s been gone for a year now, and I know—”
“You don’t know anything, Alba. And I don’t need you giving me your analysis on what I feel or fucking think,” I snapped.
The truth was, I heard from Harbor’s father late last night.
I respected the man and met him a few times since she and I dated for the last two years.
When she disappeared, we communicated a lot, and he knew that I was using my resources in the streets to find Harbor.
I hadn’t come up with anything, so the transfer of information had slowed down between us.
“What you’re not going to do is take whatever the fucking problem is out on me,” Alba quipped with attitude while she cut her eyes at me.
“I get it. She’s gone. It’s a fucked-up situation, and I wish that there was something that I could do about it.
And I know that you have exhausted all of the power that you have.
Maybe it’s time to… think about the other alternatives. ” She insinuated.
“And what alternatives are those?” My tone had switched, and her eyes went cold while she stared back at me.
We’d never argued this much. She was also hormonal, so she was extra sensitive.
I hated being at odds with her too. She was my rock, and we talked about everything.
There wasn’t one thing that I couldn’t tell her.
The night Harbor got snatched changed everything.
I won’t lie, I used Alba as a crutch. I needed someone, to feel close to something since Harbor had slipped away, and she was the next best thing.
“Anything could’ve happened to her. And ever since then, you’ve been distant and taking your shit out on me,” Alba said, turning her legs and placing her bare feet on the floor.
“What was I supposed to do? Was I supposed to go down fighting for her? Would you be happy if something happened to both of us?”
“You know that’s not what the fuck I mean.” I cut her off.
She was starting to piss me off with all that emotional bullshit. It was draining, and I didn’t have much patience these days. I swallowed more of my brew and treaded toward the living room.
“I can’t tell what you mean, because you barely even talk to me. You go around here burying yourself in work all day and then drink and smoke yourself into a coma. You pass out, fuck me occasionally, and then roll out of bed before I can even wake up and have a conversation with you!” Alba ranted.
Her words practically shocked a nigga back to life.
She was hurt, and it was obvious that she wasn’t about to keep allowing me to treat her like a second thought.
I stood in front of her and slowly brought myself down into a chair near her.
Clearing my throat, I finished the last of my brew.
I was in need of another one. First, I needed to talk to her about a few things.
“You’re right.” I lowered my head and set the empty bottle on the table.
“I have been cold, distant, and not at all like myself. My girl was kidnapped. Taken. I didn’t know where the fuck she was or if she was dead or alive.
That shit fucked with me. For an entire year, I played what-if games in my head.
What if I had walked out with you? What if we skipped the party altogether?
She would still be here, safe. She would be in school like she’s supposed to be. ”
“And you would still be together, right?” Alba asked, fixated on me.
“That’s what this is at the root of it all.
You want your girlfriend back, even though I’m currently four months pregnant with your child!
Selfish ass nigga. That’s what you are, Lock!
” Tears spilled down her cheeks as she swiftly brought herself to her feet.
She slipped back into her sandals and grilled me across the coffee table.
Alba charged toward the door, and I hopped from my chair to trail her.
Snatching her by her wrist, I forced her to spin around to face me.
Anger and resentment filled her features while more tears streamed down her silky skin.
“Alba, you know this shit is complicated,” I rebutted.
“It’s complicated, but you don’t have to treat me like this, Lock. I’m your fucking friend. I’ve been here since before Harbor. How you gonna switch up on me?” she choked out.
She nailed it and made me feel like shit at the same time.
Alba was beautiful and carried a piece of my heart that another soul couldn’t touch.
Not even Harbor. But a nigga was fucked up about her disappearance.
I didn’t give a fuck about a lot of people, but Harbor managed to sneak into another piece of a nigga’s heart that I kept sealed.
When I met her, she was like a breath of fresh air.
She was smart, bubbly, and full of life.
She talked a nigga’s ear off, but it was cute, and I found that it was some shit she did when she was nervous.
Harbor wasn’t jaded by the hood, but she had some swag, and that shit didn’t even matter to me.
I wasn’t one of those dudes that had to have the baddest bitch.
Harbor was fine as fuck too though. I thought about her smile all the time.
Sometimes, when I was drunk and inside Alba, it was really Harbor I imagined in all those positions.
I never even got the chance to be with her like that. Another loss.
“I’m sorry, Alba.” My words stopped her where she stood. “You’re right though. I haven’t been the same. I shouldn’t take out what I’m going through on you. Especially now.”
“What are you talking about?” Alba furrowed both brows.
My shoulders were heavy. The weight of the streets, and what I learned from Harbor’s father had me shook and disturbed.
I stayed up all night trying to pick apart the night she was taken and everything that he told me.
There were holes in the story. I needed to talk to Harbor so that she could fill them in.
Alba saw that I was in my own head. She inched closer to me with her hands on her hips.
“What is this about?” She continued to pry.
“I talked to Harold Lawson last night.” I began, falling back in my chair.
“OK. Did you call him?” she questioned.
“He called me. Thought I would like to know that he got a call. From Harbor,” I revealed, watching confusion spread across her face.
“Wait, what? Is he sure it was her?” Alba asked next.
“He talked to her long enough.”
“Well, what did she say? Where is she?” Alba interrogated.
“She didn’t say. Apparently… she’s been fine this entire time,” I articulated.
“What? That’s doesn’t make sense,” Alba retorted. “I saw her get taken. How does he even know this?”
“Harbor is… dramatic… according to her father. Did you know that she was changing grades for kids at school? And making bank off that shit?” I disclosed.
Alba was floored, and her mouth parted partially while she gaped back at me in disbelief.
“Wait… Harbor? That’s… unbelievable. I mean… I knew she was smart. Wow. I guess that good girl image was all for show,” Alba muttered. “So she… faked a kidnapping? For what? And where is she?”
“I don’t know. She hung up before he could go into any of that,” I answered, staring off as my anger flared.