17. Princeton Brentley
The Waffle House was damn near empty at this hour, which was perfect. Just me and shawty sitting in a booth with some hash browns and scrambled eggs between us. She was laughing at something I said, and I found myself watching her more than eating.
“So, you got kids?” she asked, dipping a piece of hash brown in some ketchup.
“Yeah, I got a daughter. Summer.” I smiled just thinking about her.
“Aw, that’s such a pretty name,” Nourah said, and the way she said it made me feel like she actually meant that shit.
“She be giving me a run for my money. She’s a lil’ diva, but I love my baby girl. Me and her mama weren’t together when we made her, but we coparent and all that.”
“How’s that going? You got one of them bitter baby mama situations?” She took a bite of her food, waiting on my answer.
I leaned back in the booth. “Honestly…” I chuckled just thinking about my BM. “I don’t know what to call her, but bitter is too nice of a word.”
“Oh, shit.”
“I know… it’s complicated, but I do my part. She got a nigga, so most of our conversations are quick. I don’t even be on that type of time with her.”
Her face relaxed a little at that, and I noticed. That shit made me smile. She was relieved knowing Paisley was taken.
“What about you? Do you have kids?” I asked her. “Or do you want kids?”
“No, I don’t have any. But I want a shit ton of them,” she said, serious as hell.
I laughed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, like the Jackson 5. I need to pop out five and get me a Michael, a Tito, a Jackie—” She was animated as hell, hands moving and everything. “I literally need all of that. A Janet too!”
“Shawty, you hilarious,” I told her, shaking my head. “For real, though, I really like your vibe.”
“Thank you,” she said, smiling.
I leaned forward a little. “So, real talk, why ain’t you dating anybody? You seem like the type that should be married already.”
“I could be dating. And honestly, I probably should be because I’m young, fine, smart, and pretty.” She said it matter-of-factly, no shame in her game.
“Damn, you a little vain, ain’t you?” I joked, but I was grinning.
She threw a piece of hash brown at me. “Boy, whatever. But nah, for real, though, I never bump into the right kind of guys, you know? And I don’t want to force it.
Plus, dating can be tiresome at times. Just giving somebody else all your time is draining.
So, I’ma sit back and wait for Mr. Right to find me. ”
“Yeah, I feel you on that.”
“So, what about you? You dating?” She tilted her head at me, curious. “And don’t just say you’re not. Tell me why.”
I sat back and thought about that for a second. “My life is pretty demanding right now, shawty. My main focus is Summer and my security business. I got a lot going on, especially with all the traveling I do.”
“So, who’s making sure you’re good?” she asked, and I wasn’t expecting that.
I smiled at that question. There was something real in the way she asked it. “Nobody. Why? You trying to make sure I’m good?”
“Yeah, actually, I am,” she said, and she wasn’t joking.
“I like that,” I said, and meant it.
“You say you like stuff a lot,” she pointed out. “Seems like you just like any old thing.”
“Nah, that ain’t true. I’m selective.”
“Okay, so if you had the free time to start dating, what would you want?”
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind coming home to some home-cooked meals, some massages, good conversation, good sex. That type of vibe.”
She put her fork down and looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Oh, so I’m supposed to be at the door with my hand out, ready to rub your feet and all that?”
I laughed. “Nah, I was talking about massaging my back and shoulders, mama, but you can if you want to.”
“I mean, I don’t mind massaging my man’s feet. I kinda got a thing about feet, though. I hate ’em real bad, but as long as you bring home the bacon and handle the bills, I’ll massage your feet, boo. You better reciprocate too!”
“Aight, that’s what I’m talking about,” I said, but then I bent down and looked at her feet under the table.
“What are you doing?” she asked, suspicious.
“Your feet a little funny-looking, shawty.”
She kicked me under the table. “Boy, my feet are not funny-looking! They pretty! They done up nice! And don’t even act like you wouldn’t put them in your mouth.”
I looked down at them again, then back up at her with a smirk. I let my eyes do the talking for a second before I said, “You know what? You right. I would. I’d suck on them toes for real.”
She put her hand over her mouth and laughed. “Not a toe sucker! Princeton, what is wrong with you?”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with me, shawty.”
We kept talking and laughing and were just about done with our food when my phone rang.
I looked down at the name, confused.
“Everything good?” Nourah asked.
I looked at the screen. “It’s my baby mama. She never calls me this late.” I looked back at her. “Let me take this real quick.”
“Yeah, of course… go ahead.”
I answered quickly. “Yo, what’s up?”
Paisley started screaming before I could even say anything else.
“PB, please! C-can you come get me and the kids? I’m so s-scared right now!”
“What happened?” I had an idea and was hoping I wasn’t right about the shit I was thinking.
“It’s Rah. I don’t know what happened, but h-he snapped.”
She said Rah beat her ass to the point where her face was swollen, black and blue, and he did it right in front of the kids. Then he trashed the whole house and was drunk and high out of his mind.
“Where the fuck he at right now?” My jaw clenched. I was seeing red.
“I don’t know, but I managed to pack a bag for me and the kids. I’m sorry. I… I didn’t know who else to call.” She cried, and my heart started beating fast. I could hear both Summer and Rah Jr. crying in the background.
“Are the kids okay?”
“Yes, they’re good.”
“I’m on the way,” I said, already sliding out of the booth.
Nourah was watching me, confusion all over her face as I ended the call. I pulled out my wallet and placed a stack of cash on the table—a thousand easy—for her to pay for the food.
I looked at her.
“Look, I’m not gonna lie to you right now. My baby mama’s baby daddy just beat on her in front of my daughter, and I gotta go make sure they straight. I’m really sorry about this, shawty. This ain’t how I normally do things. I wouldn’t normally leave you like this.”
“Oh my God…” she said, genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry that happened, and I get it. Please, go.”
“Bet. I’ma have another black truck come scoop you. Let me know soon as they get here, aight?”
She nodded, and I said, “Gimme a hug.”
She stood up, a stunned look still on her face, but I wrapped my arms around her and held her for a second, letting her feel that I was real about everything. Then I kissed her forehead softly, and when she looked up at me, I kissed her lips. It was short, but it was real.
“Hit me up when you get to the hotel,” I said.
“I will. I hope everything’s okay,” she said, and I could hear the worry in her voice.
“It will be.”
I headed outside, quickly shooting a text to have a black truck pick Nourah up.
“Aye, take me to my baby mama’s house,” I said to the driver. “And drive fast. Some shit just popped off. I need to get there ASAP.”
“Yes, sir,” he said and peeled off.
We pulled up to Paisley’s crib, and I damn near flew out of the truck.
Paisley was standing outside with the baby on her hip, and Summer was at her legs, crying her little heart out.
I put my hand on her chin and turned her head left, then right. Her whole face was swollen—black-and-blue bruises all over her jaw and under her eye, just like she’d said.
She was crying real bad, not able to hold it together.
I bent down to Summer, and she immediately wrapped her arms around me. “Baby girl, you okay?”
“Yes, Daddy. I’m just very scared,” she said, her little voice shaking.
“Don’t worry, baby. I ain’t gonna let nothing happen to you. You hear me?” I rubbed her back and looked up at Paisley. “Go get in the truck right now.”
That’s when I heard it—a man laughing behind me.
I stood up and turned around. There was Rah, stumbling toward me.
“Oh, look who it is,” he slurred, laughing like shit was hilarious. “Mr. Captain Save-a-Hoe. Shouldn’t you be somewhere following your brother around? Look at you, pulling up in the hood like you still belong here, pretty boy.”
I didn’t even respond. I just looked back at Paisley. “Go. Get in the car. Now! Leave the bags right there. I’ll grab them.”
She grabbed Summer’s hand and took off toward the truck. The second that door closed, I turned back to Rah.
“You put your hands on my baby mama in front of my fucking daughter. In front of your own child. You fucking crazy, nigga?”
“What you gonna do, pretty boy?” He was still smiling, still laughing like this was all a joke.
I didn’t give him time to say anything else. I pulled my pistol out before he could even blink. No talking, no warning. I started pistol-whipping him over and over. He fell to the ground, and I kept going, kept hitting him until blood was pouring out of his mouth, his nose, everywhere.
“Stop! Princeton, stop!” Paisley was yelling from inside the truck. “Please!”
I could hear Summer crying, and that’s what made me stop. That’s what pulled me back from doing something I couldn’t take back.
I was breathing hard, heated, but I stopped. I squatted down next to Rah, who was bleeding profusely, moaning and groaning, rolling around on the ground. I got close to his face.
“You a sorry excuse for a man,” I told him, my voice low and deadly. “Don’t you ever, ever put your hands on another woman again. You understand me? Not her. Not nobody. You do this shit again; I’m putting a bullet in you. That ain’t a threat. That’s a promise.”
I stood up, put my gun away, and walked back to the truck. I climbed in and looked at the kids and Paisley. “Y’all good?”
“Yeah,” Paisley said, crying and sniffling. “Yeah, we good. I just… I don’t want you getting locked up for killing him. He’s not worth it.”
“He gone live for now, but I’ma take you to the hospital.”
“Okay, just… let me go grab his car seat real quick from my car.”
“I can grab it.” I went to get out, but she stopped me.
“No, it’s okay… I got it. Can you hold him for a second?”
I nodded, and she handed me the baby. He was crying, so I held him close and bounced him a little bit, trying to calm him down.
“It’s okay, little man. It’s okay. We good,” I whispered, patting him on his back.
Paisley jumped out, walked over to her car, and grabbed the car seat. When she came back, she got it strapped up, and I handed him back to Pais. His cries were dying down as my phone started ringing.
I looked at the screen.
Unknown number. I answered it, confused.
“Yo!”
“Hi, is this Princeton Brentley?” A woman’s voice came through, sounding professional, further confusing the fuck out of me.
“Who the fuck is this?”
“Oh, uh…this is Jillian, calling from St. General Hospital regarding your sister, Theresa Brentley.” We’ve been trying to reach your family. Your sister, Theresa Brentley, uh… she overdosed. We were able to stabilize her, but she’s currently in critical condition, and—”
I didn’t hear anything after that.