Chapter 12
Mona
When someone hurt two people you loved with your entire heart, soul, and body, desired to enter your home, it was best to beat their asses while talking to them nicely. To do that, you had to lure the spineless dummy into your home, thinking all was well.
Staring at the pretty, light-skinned bitch who left my man’s heart on his sleeve and heart more shattered than a glass bottle after I slapped it across a bitch’s head, I warmly announced, “Please step in, Amana. I’m Mona. August Senior’s fiancée. Who’s the tall gentleman behind you?”
“My fiancé, Tim,” she said excitedly as I stepped aside to allow the dress-for-success couple inside my very relaxed home.
“Ah, nice to meet you, Tim,” I replied cheerily as he tipped his head forward while looking toward the couch.
“Likewise,” he voiced, never looking at me. “You and August Senior have a lovely home.”
Spinning on my heels, my fingers twitched horribly. I was itching to remove the ugly ass doll from behind my back so I could whack the skin cells from Amana’s body.
While we walked from the door, I clapped once. The sting to my palm and the confusion on Tim and Amana’s faces were beautiful to me. I liked how his top lip curled upward as her eyebrows furrowed.
“Thank you for allowing me to grab y’all’s attention. The same attention y’all should’ve shown August Senior, concerning his and my son … on some get to ‘know you’ shit. What was up with dropping down on a ‘still’ dependent but independent young man?” I asked with a hint of nastiness in my tone.
“Correction.” Amana giggled, fake, facing me. “August Junior is my and August Senior’s son. He came out of this body.”
“Oh, you were just a fucking host. So, like I fucking said, bitch, why did you and your fiancée approach my fiancé and my son without consulting with his real parents?” I hissed, watching the once track-star turned Olympic champion closely.
“I’m not going to talk to someone who didn’t sign the birth certificate and raise a child I gave birth to,” Amana spoke nastily, glaring at me.
“Okay.” I smiled, nearing the bitch, rolling her eyes.
“August Senior, may Amana and I talk to you about us getting to know August Junior?” Tim inquired. Amana curtly winked at me and slowly turned around.
That ugly ass wink and the sluggish turn of her body pissed me off so badly that I grabbed Azaria’s plastic bat. August Senior laughed as I gritted my teeth and swung the bat toward the back of Tim’s head.
Once it connected, he grabbed the back of his head and hollered, “What the fuck?”
Amana’s dick suckers opened, but nothing came out. I swatted her face with the bat. By the sixth bat down, she screeched for me to stop. That’s when Glocks were cocked.
Tim stammered, “Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. I wasn’t going to touch her.”
“But you raised yo’ motherfuckin’ hand at my woman.
Go to the kitchen. It won’t be wise to talk back.
August Junior might dome check you. Then, I gotta beat his ass fo’ doing som’ that’s my job,” August hissed as anger consumed me.
To have a nigga raise his hand at me while my back turned was an ultimate fucking no-no.
“Fuck,” Amana screeched, stumbling to the right.
“Come here, hoe,” I growled, snatching her neck into my palm.
Without hesitating, I slammed my head into Amana’s face.
“Shit … I mean shoot!” August Junior screeched as his biological mother was in the lights out time zone.
Her scary man with his hands in the air slid by me, calling his bitch’s name.
Growling, I didn’t hear August speaking.
I only saw his mouth move. With my hand wrapped tightly around the yellow bat, just as I taught Azaria, I slapped Tim’s face repeatedly while kicking the side of his right knee so badly that the bone ran out of the skin.
“Shit!” He and the Augusts hollered.
Stepping over the nigga crying and hollering, I hit that bone as if it was a nail. August Junior screeched, “My God.”
Slapping my hand over the hollering nigga’s mouth, I shoved my nails into his jaws. Moving his head in my direction, so I could look into his pitiful eyes, I analyzed his woozy face. Every time I tapped the bone, he was closer to passing out. I loved that shit.
Smiling hard, I said, “I’m the real big bad wolf.
I don’t know what that bitch over there told you, but she abandoned her son.
She didn’t want him while she was pregnant.
She didn’t want anything to do with him until you pressed her.
Are you sure you want a bitch like that?
If you do, that’s all on you, but I’m going to be very clear.
I didn’t birth August Junior, but I sure as fuck signed the adoption papers.
So, I am his motherfucking momma. You can tell the police what happened here, and I promise you …
you and that bitch will join hands in Hell.
That means I will kill the two of you in your home.
Double funerals are beautiful. I orchestrated quite a few.
You and she will be my first double homicide.
I’m just that gotdamn great at getting away with it.
Now, tell the police that shit. Mona Averhart is my name for the time being.
You are getting woozy. See you around, Tim. ”
As I removed my hand from his mouth, I rose like a cobra, ready to strike again. August Junior sat on the sofa with an open mouth and wide eyes. Momma Orthella’s mouth was open as she rocked Azaria’s sleepy behind.
“Tim,” Amana said weakly.
Sliding my eyes to my man, I smiled. His phone was to his ear but supported by his shoulder. Covering the outstanding print, August Senior mouthed, ‘You on yo’ way to being folded like a half-empty bag of chips.’
Blushing, I nodded.
“Tim,” Amana said poorly, pissing me off because my man and I were having a moment.
“Tim’s unconscious, bitch. You’ll talk to him when he wakes,” I hissed, kicking her in the face. Instantly, blood spewed from her plump lips.
“Shit! I mean, shoot!” August Junior hollered, stunned.
“Get to my house. A.S.A.P.” August Senior breathed with ease as I stood over a whimpering Amana.
Hovering over her stomach, I tapped her in the face with Azaria’s limbless doll.
Shaking my head, I smoothly said, “You are a pitiful, bitch. So, men with legit money tell you what to do. If he didn’t press the issue about ‘getting to know’ August Junior, you would’ve carried on as if you didn’t give birth to him.
I need you to continue to act like that, or you and he will die.
Like I told him, you can go to the police about what I did and said.
I … don’t … give … a … fuck. I’ll tell them that I told August Senior and my son to lure your ass here.
I won’t get a lick of time. Why? I will sell my talents for however long to a queen of all street queens to make sure I’m at home with my toes pointing to the ceiling when my kids are asleep.
Now, get your raggedy ass up, wrap up your funky ass fiancé’s leg with your blouse, put his ass in y’all’s vehicle, and come back inside to clean my gotdamn poodle-haired carpet, bitch. ”
“My, my, my, August,” Momma Orthella held out, impressed.
“Guh, you hear why I was gon’ the first time I met her?” my man boasted as I walked backward, aiming the bat in Amana’s face.
“Yes, Son, I hear it,” Momma Orthella said as if smiling. I couldn’t take my eyes off Amana. I loved how fearful she looked up at me; still not moving fast enough to do as I said.
Urgently, I hissed, “Get that bastard off my motherfucking poodle-haired carpet before I make you suck his blood and possibly bones off my shit.”
“Urk!” August Junior gagged.
“Well, I’m so glad I can’t see,” Momma Orthella said uncomfortably.
“Mhm, tell her again, baby. Tell that bitch, a-gain,” August Senior’s horny ass coached.
Looking at him, I grinned. “Cut it out.”
“How can I? Look at me?” He cheesed, outstretching his arms and swaying. Juicy, rock-hard dick slid across his jogging shorts. The fucka didn’t have on drawls.
“Daddddd!” August Junior hollered, disgusted. At the same time, the front door was aggressively opened.
Crawling to her fiancé lying on the ground, coming around to the land of consciousness, Amana looked at the door. Pissed that she thought it was wise to slow her crawls, I whacked that bitch’s head, back, and ass like I was playing Whack-a-Mole.
King and three of The Quad Ts chanted, “Whack that bitch! Whack that bitch!”
I whacked the crying bitch until she landed on her moaning and groaning man.
“That man need medical attention, Aug. Get him up outta here. Y’all on ya’ last strike. Y’all gon’ be signin’ invisible dotted lines fo’ however long Chief say so,” Thiago said calmly, which threw me off.
He’s too calm. Why? I thought as August said, “A’ight. Mona, I’mma clean the carpet. You beat him. You wrap his leg up.”
I looked at August as if he had lost his mind.
“Tuh!” I spat, snatching the bitch’s blouse from her body.
“Gotdamn it, Mona!” August yelled, marching my way. “Do as I say!”
After wrapping the ivory blouse around Amana’s neck, I pulled back. Choking the idiot, I asked, “Who beat y’all’s asses?”
“Ack. Ack. Ack,” she sounded as August cuffed my neck and hissed into my ear.
“As bad as I want you to finish yo’ punishment, we can’t afford to be affiliated wit’ X. She rough as fuck. Let that blouse go,” he growled, applying pressure to my neck.
Nodding, I dropped the blouse. As the bitch gasped for air, I placed my foot on her back and pushed her onto the nigga, weakly looking at me.
Through gritted teeth, I asked, “Who beat y’all’s asses?”
“We were mugged by masked men,” she spoke in between gasps.
“Sounds good. Not stick to that. You will die, and you will see my fucking face. Never approach my son again. Don’t even mention his fucking name.
Make sure you don’t dream about him. I’ll make sure my dream demon kills you.
Get the fuck out of my house as you see fit,” I snarled as the front door opened.
Two babbling children entered, accompanied by a screeching Min. “What the hell?”