6. Rakim #2
Though I didn’t fuck with Ayan like that, I loved my niece and nephew.
I wouldn’t ever blame them or ostracize them for their trash ass parents.
By saying that, whatever I did for Josias’s kids, I did the same for Ayan’s.
I was happy that Ayan had enough fucking sense not to muddy the relationship I’d built with them.
But I felt he focused more on me not getting LaMia back than becoming close with his offspring.
“What about old girl downstairs?” Josias toked on the blunt, giving me a sidelong glance.
“What about her, nigga?”
“You hit? Or will you?”
“Nah.” I shook my head with finality. “This ain’t that, nigga. She only here for one reason.”
“Why not make it two?”
“Might be two, with the other being I have to kill her ass ’cause her pops ain’t pull through.” I stared off, pondering. “Plus, that’s rape adjacent. I like pussy that’s given to me. I ain’t ever had to take it, and I won’t start now.”
“She might give it to you if you do it right, Rah.”
I shook my head subtly. There was no way Daylin would agree to fuck me just because. If she did, it would most likely be out of fear, and the thought alone had my dick soft.
“I’m good.” I put the blunt to my mouth to inhale.
“She fine as fuck. Even Ayan ass was pressing her at his party like he ain’t got LaMia at home.”
“Yeah, I kind of peeped that shit when I showed up.”
Laughing, Josias continued. “Nigga’s ego was hurt when she turned him down.” When I didn’t say anything, Josias halted his laughter. “My bad, bruh. I ain’t mean to bring them up like that.”
“It ain’t shit. I stopped giving a fuck a long time ago. Any bitch that will fuck my brother ain’t worth the stress.”
My love for LaMia had vanished so quickly once I stepped foot outside of California State Prison that I found it damn near unfeasible to remember ever loving her.
I’d come to the conclusion that I never did.
Our shit had fizzled before a nigga could even get there; however, I had love for her, feelings for her, and was on my way to being in love.
Catching a murder charge had nothing to do with how much I loved or didn’t love LaMia—it was about respect.
No person would disrespect my woman regardless of how deeply I felt for her.
Additionally, any woman that I was with would never go unprotected.
LaMia and I could’ve been together for two weeks at the time of the pussy grabbing incident, and I would’ve reacted the exact same way.
“Man. What you said.” Josias shook his head.
“Keep the fact that Daylin is here from Ayan though.” I looked Josias’s way.
“Nigga, why the fuck would I tell him? All he’d do is try to kidnap her too. Nigga want everything you got,” he somewhat jested, inciting me to laugh despite how factual my little brother’s words were.
Ayan only wanted LaMia because he assumed I still did. If that nigga found out I couldn’t care less, Ayan wouldn’t have anything to do with his now baby mama.
In fact, the only person who wasn’t privy to this information was LaMia, because even Josias and Zaire had come to that same conclusion about our brother.
Josias and I continued to smoke and shoot the shit before passing out on the couch.
“I’m sorry! I’ll be good! I promise!” I banged on the door of the small closet that my seven-year-old frame had been shoved in, hyperventilating.
“Nah! You think you tough! Stay yo’ ass in there so we can see how tough you are!” My father kicked the door and walked off, reprimanding my siblings for crying in the process.
My latest burner buzzing in the pocket of my gray joggers stirred me from my nightmare, thankfully. I was in my thirties and still petrified by the shit I had endured as a youngling at the hands of my psycho ass pops.
The phone stopped after a while as I tried to calm my briskly beating heart, face in my hands, but then started up again shortly after.
I already knew who it was since there was only one person who had this specific number, so I retrieved the phone from my pocket with my eyes still shut and put it to my ear.
“Yeah,” I answered somewhat groggily. I’d called Dr. Conrad, let it ring once and hung up, as I’d told him I’d do so he would know where to call for this night only.
“Yes, um, the second surgery is finished. When should I be expecting my child?” Dr. Conrad got right down to business.
“When Talid is out of the woods completely.” I got up from the couch and went to check on Daylin who had fallen asleep with her free hand between the pages of the James Baldwin book.
Dr. Conrad chuckled mirthlessly before sputtering a little bit, clearly trying to pull his thoughts together.
“Look, I have removed the tumors, but it’s possible they could grow back. It’s also possible they won’t, but it takes a while to know that,” he explained.
“Well however long it takes for you to be sure Talid is cancer free and out of the woods like I fucking said, is how long I will have Daylin, Doc.”
It was quiet as I waited for Dr. Conrad’s response, which took a while.
Exhaling heavily, he finally asked, “What if he dies? Talid’s cancer is aggressive, and I’m not God.”
“Then so does she. Put it this way, my nigga; whatever happens to Talid will happen to Daylin. Hopefully that’s some incentive for yo’ ass.” I hung up.
My chest felt heavy as I broke down the flip phone to pieces. I wasn’t a fool. I knew doctors weren’t gods, but they were some semblance of a middleman between regular folk and God. So if anyone could keep Talid from joining our mothers, it was Dr. Conrad.