Chapter 12 #2
After checking a few work emails and watching a couple of episodes of Blippi with Diary, it was one o’clock and time for me to take her home.
Home. Every time I had to take her back to the house, it was bittersweet.
For a couple of reasons but mainly because home was supposed to be with me.
I’d never get used to this… having a child outside of my fantastic four.
“You ready?” I asked Diary, who sat on the bed, backpack strapped on.
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready.”
I grabbed my phone, the key to the hotel, my wallet, and we headed out.
When I pulled up at the house and peeped two cars out front, I prayed like hell that one of them belonged to dawg.
Before I got out of the car, I hit the glovebox and grabbed my blick.
Looking through the rearview mirror at Diary, I made sure she hadn’t seen and was distracted by whatever she was watching on her iPad.
She was. After unhooking my seatbelt, I got out, grabbed her and her bag and walked up to the house.
Because it was pretty warm out, Ms. Rochelle had the front door open.
I could hear her laughter on the way up the stairs and two other voices I couldn’t make out.
Briefly, I looked up to the sky and begged God to let one of them be that nigga.
I tapped on the screen door a couple of times before someone came to the door.
Older lady I recognized from the hospital when Erika was still alive.
She opened up and let us in, greeting Diary with a big hug.
“Hey, how you doing, Duke? You remember me? We met at the hospital,” she spoke with a warm smile.
I nodded. “Yeah, I remember you. How you doin?” I spoke back, looking around the house as soon as I walked in.
I was on go. Ready for whatever with either one of them niggas.
Yeah, Aaron included. Why? Because him and the nigga Justin were cool so to me that meant that nigga knew some shit about what had happened too.
I wondered for a second if Ms. Rochelle knew he’d been to my house too.
I wondered if they put him up to it. Ms. Rochelle didn’t strike me as the messy type though. Probably was just them niggas.
“Hey baby! Did you have fun with your daddy?” Ms. Rochelle asked Diary, pulling her into a hug.
“Hey Nana. Yes. I had fun!” Diary shrieked.
I was pissed off, ready to murk shit, but hearing that she’d had a good time with me warmed my heart.
We didn’t do much of anything for real. Ate fast food, went to the mall, chilled and watched her favorite cartoons and shit.
Apparently that was enough. The smile on her face when she said she had a good time made a nigga feel good. I couldn’t even lie.
Still.
I was on a mission, mean mugging and all.
Ms. Rochelle peeped. Asked me if I was okay and how things had gone.
I simply told her I was cool and that me and Diary had a good time.
Before sitting, I carried Diary’s overnight bag to her room, looking around for the other voice I heard.
A male’s voice. House wasn’t that big. So, whoever it was had to be in the back, kitchen area.
After I put Diary’s things away, I made my way back to the living room just as Aaron turned the corner from the kitchen. Damn. This bitch nigga.
“What up doe?” He spoke.
I chucked my chin, eying him up and down, seconds away from asking where his boy was. Before I could, Justin emerged from behind him, wearing a smile I couldn’t wait to knock off his face.
“Diary say she had a good time y’all,” Ms. Rochelle said, moments before I went off in Justin’s shit.
Punched him in the face, catching not only him but everyone else off guard too.
He stumbled a couple of times and before he recovered, I hit him another three times.
Aaron went to grab me; I dodged him and was on Justin’s ass again.
“Get him Aaron! Oh lawd, Edna, take her to her room! She don’t need to be seeing this!” Cried Ms. Rochelle, as I stood over Justin, giving him blows to the face.
“What is going on!? Duke, sweetheart stop that!” Ms. Rochelle yelled.
I didn’t give a fuck about none of that.
Could barely hear her over the sound of my fist connecting with his face.
With every punch, I thought about what I was losing.
Thought about him speaking to my wife about shit that had nothing to do with him.
Every hit, I thought about seeing him on that ring camera.
Thought about him putting my daughter in an uncomfortable position.
Hell yeah, it was an uncomfortable situation.
Again, bitch nigga didn’t know what type of time my wife would’ve been on.
Shit could’ve gone in a completely different direction, for real.
Aaron went to wrap his arms around me. I snatched away, reached in my pants, and pulled my burner out, aiming at him.
He backed away with his hands up and I switched my attention to Justin who was on the floor with a bloody mouth I stuffed the gun into, knocking his two front teeth out.
All I saw was red as the video of him standing on my porch replayed in my mind.
“Ay nigga! Chill man! What the fuck wrong with you?” Aaron yelled.
I glanced over at him. “Fuck wrong with me? What the fuck wrong with this nigga? Showing up at my crib with Diary, putting his nose in business that ain’t his? Hm? Fuck wrong with this nigga?!”
“He did what?!” Ms. Rochelle shouted. “Father God… Duke, baby, it ain’t worth it. Please Lord!”
Aaron sucked his teeth and threw his head back, annoyed. “Please tell me this nigga ain’t do that shit… Ay… Man… he wasn’t… he didn’t mean—ay, chill bro. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doin. He thought he was helping.”
Underneath me, Justin squirmed, and mumbled, groaning in pain.
With wide eyes, he pled, with his hands up, scared as fuck.
I clenched down on my jaw and pushed the gun further in his mouth, forcing him to gag.
Staring down at him, my mind moved a million miles per minute.
Tears wet the backs of my eyes as I thought about Mahogany and the last time I saw her…
the last words that left her lips. I thought about the last time I touched her.
About the last time I kissed her. Thought about the shit I did in the midst of everything.
And it hurt. So bad my chest ached and the tears wetting the backs of my eyes threatened to come to the front.
“Listen to me, son,” Ms. Rochelle pled. “Whatever happened… God will see you through. Don’t—don’t throw you whole life away over this, Ducati. You hear me? Don’t do something you’ll regret.”
Would I regret it, I wondered, as I stared down at him, finger grazing against the trigger.
Blinking a couple of times, I thought about my kids.
Diary included. Thought about the situation and how things were going to change in my life.
Thought about it all. And I felt like shit, I had the gun on the wrong person.
He did what he did. Forced me in this position but at the end of the day, I was the problem.
I was the reason for it all. I was the enemy.
Not this nigga. The shit was going to come out one way or another.
And regardless of how it came out, my life would have gone in the same direction. I was fucked either way.
With a deep breath and a swallow, I eased the gun out of his mouth and walked out of the house. Didn’t even tell my shorty goodbye.
“I need you to answer the fuckin’ phone, Ne!” I yelled at her voicemail before hanging up. Dragging my hands down my face, I tapped on her name, calling her again.
I didn’t give a fuck. I was down bad. Needed my wife just as bad as I needed my next breath.
I shifted my eyes to the clock and saw that I had about an hour before the kids got out of school.
Fuck it. I hit a quick right and headed in the direction of home.
I was trying. Trying my damnedest to abide by the rules.
Wanted to keep the drama down. Wanted to be a good nigga.
Wanted to give her space and shit like that but what the fuck was that doing to me?
I was losing my gotdamn mind without her.
Without them. She’d just have to understand.
As soon as I left Ms. Rochelle’s crib, I got on the phone.
I called her, called her, and called her.
Just to be hit with the voicemail. It wasn’t until I was halfway to the hotel room that I decided, fuck it.
I was going to the crib. She was there. Had to be there.
And if she wasn’t I’d be going to the office.
But because I knew she was in her feelings—had to be in her feelings—I knew she was at the crib.
Mahogany couldn’t work. This shit had to be hurting her just as much as it was hurting me.
As I was speeding down the street, I hit the glove box and grabbed that personal sized bottle of Don.
Pulling the cork from it, I took a big sip and recorked it before putting it back in the glove.
I couldn’t believe I’d damn near caught a body.
In broad day. In a room full of muthafuckas I didn’t trust. I was tripping.
This shit had me tripping. Because had that room been empty, I probably would have emptied the clip on him.
Not because any of this shit was his fault but because I was just that fucking mad and I wasn’t even a killer.
I was supposed to be cool?
I was supposed to accept shit as it was?
I was supposed to just lay in the bed I made? Accept not having my wife? Accept not having my family? Leave her be? Mannnn… fuck that. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t live without Mahogany. The shit was literally breaking me.
Swiping a tear from my face, I switched lanes, hung up and called her again. I could’ve stopped. I was heading to the crib. But I couldn’t. I needed to hear her voice. I needed her to open up for me. I needed her to answer.
She didn’t.
I called, called, and called… again. And she didn’t answer one time.
Think I told her I was about to pull up?
Shit no. I kept towards the crib, speeding.
Sped all the way to that bitch. Down the block and into the driveway too.
I hit the garage opener and was pissed to see that she wasn’t there.
I backed out of the driveway, didn’t even close the garage back, about to head to her job.
She didn’t want me there.
Mahogany was a professional woman. Didn’t like to do drama at work.
Didn’t like to do drama at all. Work was just off limits.
Think I gave a fuck about that? Hell naw.
The only thing I cared about was fixing shit with my wife.
That’s it. Didn’t give a fuck about the speed limit.
Didn’t give a fuck about drinking and driving.
Didn’t give a fuck about the red light I blew through neither.
It was a blessing I made it through. Was about a second away from colliding with an oncoming car I peeped through my rearview mirror when I went through.
I brushed my hand over the top of my head, sucked in air, and hit the glove box again for another shot.
Slowing up at a red light, I took a shot and put the bottle back.
I sat at the red light, thinking… about her of course.
About life. About where I was heading. Not her job but where I was heading in life. Shit didn’t look good for me.
I tossed my head back against the head rest and laughed. This had to be a cruel ass joke. Life. The shit I’d been hit with over the past couple of months. It was a continuous downslope, felt like.
Sucking in air, I pulled away from the green light, speeding off top, weaving through the midday traffic.
Hall Road was busy as hell, as usual, but I didn’t give a fuck.
As I was swerving through traffic, I damn near rear ended one of the cars.
That didn’t slow me down; I weaved again and blew through another red light.
Except this time, I didn’t make it through. I was hit by an oncoming car.