20. Rosama
Rosama
Ihad just left Nylah’s crib and made it home when Dre called.
“What?” I asked when I picked up.
“Damn, nigga, you cool?” he asked.
I sat on the edge of my bed. “Yeah, just tired. I took Nylah home, then went to holla at Mariah, then back to Nylah’s, and now I am just getting to my crib.”
“Shit, that’s a lot. Did she say she would sign the papers?”
“Man, hell no!” I said with an attitude. “I don’t know what the fuck she is holding on to.”
“She’s holding on to what y’all had,” Dre expressed.
“I don’t give a fuck about what the fuck we had. She need to realize we don’t have shit anymore.”
“You still not gonna tell Nylah?”
“No!” I said quick. “I done told shorty I wouldn’t lie to her about shit, and I'm not lying. If I tell her that shit now, she’s gonna be done with me for good. I gave Mariah until my birthday to handle it.”
“And if she don’t?”
I laughed a lil’ bit, ‘cause if anybody knew what was gonna come next, it was Dre.
“You already know. But I’ma take a nap and slide through later.”
“Iight, say less.”
We hung up. I hopped in the shower and instantly started thinking about Nylah. That was my baby. She brought me peace, and the whole time I been with her, I haven’t been thinking bout anotha bitch.
Once I hopped outta the shower, I sent her a text to let her know she was on my mind before I fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was about midday. I checked my phone and saw what moves I needed to make, then responded to everybody before hopping outta bed and putting some clothes on.
I left out the house and called Dre, telling him what packs to put together for me, when Nylah called and I clicked ova.
“Wussup, baby girl?”
“Somebody threw trash on my steps and at my door.
“What?” I said, confused.
“I came home from lunch to grab some fabric I forgot, and it's literally trash all ova my steps and coffee thrown at my door.”
“Damn, baby, who the fuck you pissed off otha than Blaze?”
We both laughed.
“I don’t even know, this shit is crazy.”
“It is,” I said as I pulled off from my crib. “Leave it alone, and I’ll call my young niggas to clean it up.”
“You sure, luv?” she asked.
“Of course, it’s my job, baby. Go back to work and let me handle it.”
I could feel her smiling through the phone.
“Okay, baby, I’ll see you later.”
I got off the phone and put in a call to my young nigga that was close to her crib and sent him a few dollas to clean that shit up for me.
I took my time gettin to the trap. Niggas was hitting my line, asking me for an ETA and shit, but I didn’t give a fuck. I needed some time to myself. Dealing with shit with Mariah, spending time with Nylah, and making money with my niggas, I had been having a lot of shit going on.
When I did finally make it to the trap, Dre looked at me as if he could kill me.
“Nigga, where the fuck you been? These damn junkies been blowing my shit.”
I laughed. “I was g’tting lunch and movin’ through traffic. They can wait.”
Dre sucked his teeth. “This nigga be on some other shit.”
I looked around the trap, and it was quieter than it normally was—less bodies were around.
“Where the fuck is Brandon and Blaze bitch ass?”
“Brandon with his bitch, he just left not that long ago, and Blaze, I haven’t seen that nigga.”
“That nigga need to get it together,” I said, grabbing all the packs to drop off. “I been patient with a lot of damn people, that shit is wearing out.”
Dre nodded. “I know, I been tryin’ to tell him. You know how niggas act fresh out.”
I nodded. “I’ma go drop this shit off. I’ma be back in a few.”
I dapped Dre up and headed out. As I hopped in the car, I checked to see which drop was the closest and headed there. Off my first two drops, I made 2k off some guns. By the third and fourth stop, I was up to 5k, and by the last stop I had a good 9k in my pocket, and that was a slow day.
A nigga was happy, then Dre texted me and told me we were sold out after the pickups he had, and that shit had me on cloud nine.
I was just about to text Nylah, letting her know before my bday we were going on a trip, when I heard that noise and looked in my rearview to see them red and blue lights.
“Fuck!” I mumbled under my breath as I pulled ova to the side.
The officer wasted no time hopping outta his car and walking ova to my window.
“Sir, I’ma need you to hop out of the car.”
I looked at him, confused. “What the fuck for?”
“Sir, this is your last warning. I need you to hop out of the car.”
I hopped outta the car, and he immediately turned me around and pushed me up against my car.
“Ayo!” I yelled out. “What the fuck is all of this for?”
“Do you have anything on you, sir?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“Nigga, no. What the fuck is all of this for?”
The officer finished patting me down, then turned me around.
“We have reasons to believe that there are drugs in this car. Do you mind if I check?”
I looked at that nigga like he lost his damn mind.
“NIGGA, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKIN’ ABOUT?! I DIDN’T EVEN DO SHIT FOR YOU TO PULL ME OVA. HELL NA, YOU CAN’T CHECK MY SHIT! FUCK YOU!”
The officer looked me down like he didn’t give no fucks what I was saying.
“Sir, we received a call to be on the lookout for your car for drug sales. That’s enough for us to search your car without your permission. I was just being nice.”
“Man, this is some bullshit! Man, check my shit and let me the fuck go!”
The officer led me to the hood of his car. I leaned against it and watched him go through my shit, not coming up with nothing.
“See, nothin’ in my shit, let me the fuck go,” I said as he continued to look.
He worked from the trunk to the backseat to the front, looking up under the backseats, then moving to the passenger, still not coming up with anything.
“You are makin’ yourself look like a clown. Let me go now, and I’ll settle for an I'm sorry,” I shouted.
The officer moved to the driver's side, looking and feeling all in the door, then feeling under the seat, when he paused, looked at something, and brought it ova to me.
“Well, Mr. Carpenter, what is this?”
He held out his hand and was holding a fucking 8 ball with a red lip print on it.
“What the fuck is that?!” I yelled out.
He looked at me, laughing. “It was under your seat.”
“That shit got lipstick on it. It’s not mine.”
He shrugged. “I feel you on that, sir, but I have to take you in for it. Long as you don’t have any warrants, you can bond out.”
I was blown, as he pulled me to the back of his car, trying to figure out who fuck did that shit.
It took him almost an hour to inventory my shit, then he took me down to the station. I got booked and processed, then led to a holding cell where I was thinking bout who to call.
I couldn’t call Dre. That nigga might have had a warrant. Brandon and Blaze just got out and were M.I.A. I thought about…Mariah…
That bitch had red lipstick on the day I went and yanked her ass up.
I started to replay how mad I was when I left her house and how I thought I saw her car following me. I stood up and started pacing the lil’ ass cell, remembering that she did coke when I slept with her friend.
“That bitch followed me,” I mumbled under my breath.
I sat back down, trying to get my shit together. I still needed to get out, then I thought about her.
I knocked on the glass and told them I was ready for my call.
A few minutes passed, and then I was recuffed and led out to the phone, and I called Nylah.
The phone rang for longer than I expected. I thought she wasn’t gonna pick up, then I heard her voice.
“Baby, it's Rosama,” I said as soon as she picked up. “I know you are at work, and I will explain it, but I need you to come bail me out.”
The line went silent for a second, and she cleared her throat.
“I'm on my way.”