12. Princeton Brentley
Something felt off the second I pulled into my driveway.
Paisley’s truck was sitting there, which wasn’t unusual. She lived here. But I could’ve sworn she told me she was taking Rah Junior and Summer to the park for a little while.
I parked in the garage, killed the engine and sat there for a second.
Maybe she changed her mind.
I grabbed my phone and keys, got out and came through the door leading into the house. The alarm wasn’t set, but that ain’t mean nothing either. Paisley knew the code and came and went whenever she needed to.
Still, something felt off.
I pushed the door shut behind me real slow so the lock ain’t click loud, set my keys down on the entry table instead of dropping them in the bowl, and stood still.
I looked toward the kitchen.
Empty.
Front room was empty too.
I started up the stairs, taking my time, looking down at my phone for a second and smirking after seeing Nourah hadn’t texted me back.
I looked up just in time to see somebody moving around my room. My hand went straight to my waist.
I moved closer to the wall and came around the corner slow, and when I got to my bedroom doorway, there he was.
A nigga with his back to me, looking around at my shit, which confused the fuck outta me on how he got in.
His family was about to be planning his fucking funeral. That’s all I knew.
I pulled my gun off my hip, letting my hand hang down at my side.
I came through that doorway smooth, one long step, then another, closing the distance before my arm rose up and I put that steel right against the back of his head.
He froze.
“Nigga.” My voice came out low. “Who the fuck sent you?” I asked, gritting my teeth.
His hands went up slow. Then this nigga started laughing.
His shoulders shook with it, and I ain’t like that shit at all. Wasn’t shit funny.
I pressed the barrel harder against his head, making his head fall forward.
“Aye, chill out, man.”
Something about the voice sounded familiar. He started turning around slow.
When he got all the way around and I saw his face, I ain’t lower my gun one inch. It was now pointed at the front of his head, right between the eyes.
My jaw tightened even harder. “Rah, what the fuck are you doing in my house?”
Rah looked at the gun, then back at me before lowering his arms slowly. He was tryna act like this shit ain’t faze him, but I saw the fear in his eyes.
He stayed silent, so I said, “What the fuck are you doing in my muthafuckin house?”
“I came to see my son.”
“In my bedroom, nigga?”
“Nah.” He laughed nervously. “I was looking for the bathroom. Paisley picked me up so we could take the kids to the park, and she forgot some shit, so here we are.”
I stepped closer. The barrel touched his skin.
“You got three seconds to get the fuck out my room and out my house before I kill yo’ ass right here.”
He gave me a grin. The same grin this nigga always had whenever he thought he was getting under my skin.
I ran my tongue across my teeth and let it sit for a second.
“One.”
His grin slipped a little.
“You doing too much, bruh.”
“Two.”
He started backing out of my room, his hands going back up as I took my gun off safety and cocked it. He looked like he was ’bout to fucking cry.
I followed him out of my bedroom, ready to count to three and pull the trigger, but that’s when I heard Pais.
“PB, what the hell?”
Paisley was holding a pack of pull-ups and wipes. Her eyes went from me to the gun, then to Rah.
“I-I brought him here,” she stuttered.
So, his bitch ass was telling the truth. But what the fuck was she thinking bringing my Opp where I lay my head?
“You what?”
“Put the gun down… please.”
Rah looked at her, then back at me like her saying that somehow made this shit better.
I lowered the gun, but I ain’t put it away yet. Just put the safety back on.
Paisley hurried toward us and I stared at her angrily. Sometimes her dumbass just didn’t think.
She blew out a breath and looked between us. “He hasn’t really been around as much lately…and he called saying he wanted to see Junior. You know…with everything that’s happened before with the drinking and the drugs, I wasn’t comfortable just letting him take my baby somewhere by himself yet.”
Rah sucked his teeth. “Here we go.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I told him.
Paisley stepped between us before he could say anything back.
“I told him we could take them to the park s-so I picked him up….we were heading there, and then I realized I forgot the extra pull-ups and wipes. And Summer spilled juice all over her dress…so I had to change her clothes.”
She held the pack up. “He came inside with me while I grabbed everything so he could use the bathroom. I swear that’s all.”
I looked at Rah.
“Then how the fuck did you end up in my bedroom?”
Paisley’s brows pulled together. She looked at him too. “Wait. Why were you in his bedroom?”
“I was looking for the bathroom.”
“There’s several bathrooms, Rah, and I pointed to one before I went into the kids’ room.”
“I ain’t know that.” I knew his ass was lying.
“Then you could’ve asked me,” Pais responded.
“I ain’t know where you went.”
“I told you I was grabbing his stuff!”
“Man, whatever. Can we go?”
Rah stared at me and I stared right back, then tucked my gun into my waistband.
His jaw clenched. “You always been on some tough-guy shit.”
“You beat women, nigga. Fuck is you talking ’bout?”
“PB!” Paisley snapped.
I ain’t look at her.
Rah laughed under his breath.
Wrong fucking thing to do.
I stepped around Paisley, and he took one step back.
“Laugh again.”
His face changed.
“Go ahead. Since shit funny.”
“Aight, bruh. Damn.” He turned and started toward the stairs and I walked behind him the entire way.
When we got to the door, Rah looked at Paisley.
“You taking me back to my spot?”
She sighed. “Yes. Just give me a second.”
“Nah.”
Both of them looked at me.
“She ain’t gotta take you nowhere.”
Rah frowned. “How the fuck I’ma get home?”
“I don’t give a fuck. Call an Uber from outside my fucking house and get all the way off my property.”
“PB,” Paisley said.
“What? You picked this nigga up because you ain’t trust him enough to take his own child somewhere by himself. Fine. I understand that part. But you ain’t about to be chauffeuring this nigga around town.”
Rah pulled his phone out. “Man, I don’t need nobody to take me nowhere.”
“Good.”
He tapped at his screen, then looked at Paisley.
“I’ll see Junior another day.”
“Rah.”
“I said I’ll see him another day.”
I stepped toward him, but Paisley grabbed my arm. “The only reason you still breathing is because my kids are here. Don’t ever in your muthafuckin’ life bring yo dumbass back to my muthafuckin’ crib.”
“Yo kids?” he started to say.
That was it.
I punched ’em, knocking his head against the wall. He started swinging back, but I had the upper hand. I got ’em in a headlock while he punched at my arms.
Paisley was yelling for us to stop, and I held his ass until I felt him almost go limp. That’s when my security ran in and pulled us apart.
Rah was breathing hard, damn near unconscious, while I stood there, chest heaving, glaring down at his ass.
They drug him outside as Paisley stood in front of me with tears in her eyes.
She shook her head. “Let me go check on the kids.”
I walked into the kitchen and planted my hands on the counter, tryna calm down.
I wasn’t sure how much time passed before she walked up and placed her hand on my shoulder.
“What?”
“I’m sorry….I didn’t know he was in your room.”
“That ain’t the only problem.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “I should’ve told you I was bringing him here.”
“You think?”
“But like I said, PB, I wasn’t bringing him here like that. We stopped right quick because I forgot Junior’s stuff.”
“I don’t care if you stopped for thirty seconds.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do. When that nigga bruised your face and had you looking unrecognizable, who went over there and made sure he looked and felt the same fucking way you did?”
She looked away.
I nodded. “Exactly.”
“PB, I know.”
“I pistol-whipped that nigga for you, Pais!”
“I know, okay? You don’t have to talk to me like I’m stupid.”
“I’m talking to you like somebody who just walked into his own bedroom and found a grown-ass man standing in it.”
That shut her up. I took a breath and rubbed my hand over my face.
“Had I pulled that trigger before he turned around, what then?”
She looked down.
“I gave you access to my house because I trust you. Gate access. Alarm code. Everything. That don’t mean everybody attached to you should have access too.”
“You’re right.” Her voice cracked a little.
“Look, Pais. Do what you need to do for your son. But don’t bring that shit back to my doorstep without telling me again.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
I looked at her for another second.
“How many times has he been in here?”
Her brows went up. “What?”
“How many times has that nigga been in my shit, Pais?”
She hesitated.
“Paisley.”
“Twice. But both times were about Junior.”
I laughed and looked away.
“Yo, this shit is un-fucking-believable.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“You ever fucked him in here?”
Her whole body jerked back. “WHY WOULD YOU EVER ASK ME THAT?”
“Answer it.”
“NO! I’m not fucking him! And even if I were, I wouldn’t be doing it in your house!”
I stared at her for a long moment, then shook my head.
“Aye, man. This shit ain’t gon’ work.”
Her face fell. “What?”
“This little arrangement. You staying here. Whatever the fuck this is we got going on.”
“What does Rah have to do with me living here?”
“Everything.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Nah… it makes perfect sense to me.”
“What does that mean, Princeton?”
“It means exactly what the fuck I just said.”
I like that I got to have my daughter under my roof every single day. Wake up to her. Put her to bed my damn self instead of doing that every-other-weekend shit.
That alone made whatever headaches came with Paisley being here worth it.
But this?
Nah.
Something had to change.
I felt her hand touch my arm again and I pulled away.
“Paisley, I’m not in the mood for whatever you trying to do right now.”