Chapter 6 #5
The moment I entered the kitchen, Solana’s eyes were on me.
Her hair was back in a ball on the top of her head, and she must have washed her face because it looked clean and held a glow on her dark skin.
Bahati was dark, maybe a shade or two lighter than me.
Solana was a deep, dark chocolate. Both women were beautiful, but there was just something about Solana.
Too fucking bad she’d fucked up, and now all I saw was a coked-out problem when I looked at her.
Her feet were crossed Indian style as she sat on the kitchen island.
She was still wearing her shorts, so I avoided looking down because I was sure I would see her panties through the thigh opening or her pussy if she wasn’t wearing any.
She’d pulled a sweatshirt over the baby tee she’d slept in.
The word “Alo” was stitched across the pineapple-colored top that matched the shorts.
Her round eyes peered up at me while she held a mug in her hand and sipped from it.
She was sitting there, all innocent looking, enjoying a cup of joe like she hadn’t been snorting that white girl less than twenty-four hours ago.
“Wassup, Solana?”
“The mailman brought the envelopes to the door… Says your mailbox was too full.” Her eyes went from me to the mail stacked in a pile in front of her.
I rarely checked the mail unless I was expecting some shit, and most of my shit went to my PO box.
This house was bought in cash, and I didn’t have car payments.
My cards, utilities, and insurance were all on autopay, and most of my miscellaneous bills were set to paperless.
There had been more than once when the mailman brought the mail to the door.
I knew he used it as an excuse to be nosy and chat.
He was a lonely, old widower who got his grandchildren the last week of summer and again on his birthday.
I had 20/20 vision and still used glasses when I read, so I didn’t fault my sight. From here, I could see the name on the first piece of mail, and I chuckled.
“Aite,” I replied, moving toward the fridge.
“There’s fifteen envelopes. Only two are addressed to you.”
“So, you can read. Congratulations, Solana.”
She opened her mouth, but I shot her a look that had her clamping it back shut. Steam rose from her mug, kissing her chin while she stared at me without blinking.
“This my shit, Solana. You don’t get to question me about anything.”
She blinked just as her eyes began to mist. “Can I ask what your daughter’s name is?”
“Shya.”
“Shya… Pretty. She’s a good baby. Sleepy baby. ?Crees que ellos… hicieron algo? (Do you think they…. did something?)”
Heat crept up my neck. Solana had voiced one of the thoughts that had been swirling in my mind. My trigger finger itched, and my eye twitched. The doctor had cleared her at the hangar, but he’d only done a quick assessment of the small toddler.
“Si ponen la mano sobre algo que esté ligado a mí, acabo con toda la línea de sangre. (If they lay a hand on anything attached to me, I’m ending the entire bloodline.)
The mug Solana was holding tilted as the hot coffee spilled onto her sweatshirt.
The ceramic mug slipped from her hand, but I caught it, not caring that it was burning my hand.
Solana’s body jerked forward into me, so I caught her too.
Her eyes were round, and when she jerked back, only then did I realize what was happening.
“Bitch! You got me fucked up, hoe!”
Bahati had snatched Solana by her hair. Her hands shot back to Bahati’s grip, trying to break the hold she had on her hair.
“?Déjame ir, maldita sea! ?Suelta mi cabello! (Let me fucking go! Let go of my hair!”)
“Aye, watchout!” I fussed at Bahati.
Grabbing her hand, I pulled her fingers from Solana’s hair. Solana was trying to push her, but since she was on the ground now with her back to Bahati, it was difficult.
When I had them apart, Solana crawled away from Bahati, shock still evident on her face with a bit of confusion.
I faced Bahati. “Aye, what the fuck? Didn’t I already tell you I ain’t with that drama shit?”
Bahati’s chest was heaving as she almost blew smoke out of her nose.
She bent down, and once she was upright again, Shya was in her arms. Now that I was seeing them together, I didn’t see any resemblance between Bahati and Shya.
Baby girl had my same skin tone, and her hair was in two puff balls like I’d seen on my baby cousins.
However, even though a head full, she didn’t have as much hair as the little girls in my family.
Her doe-shaped eyes were bright with wonder, and her pouty lips were pressed shut as she clung to Bahati’s shirt. She was a little beauty.
“Shio!”
Snapping out of the haze of adoration that Shya had me in, I snapped my head toward Bahati. She was deadass wrong for attacking Solana. This was the shit I didn’t have time for.
“This bitch needs to die! Kill this hoe before I do! As a matter of fact, get the fuck out of my way. We can’t stay here!”
Bahati inched forward, but I held my hand up. She paused but was still shooting daggers at Solana behind me.
“Your arm broke, you don’t have a phone, and you have my daughter.” No fucking money either. “You not going nowhere. Now, tell me what happened.”
“Yes, I am! I’m leaving! If I stay here, she will have me in jail, and she’s the one who had Shya, so I know it came from her.” Bahati pointed her fingers between Solana and Shya before trying to lunge forward again.
“Chill, you got the baby in your arms.”
“Fuck that! Look!” Shya opened her hand just as Bahati pointed to the baggie in her palm. “She keeps her hands balled up; it’s a comfort thing. Once she opened it, this fell out on the bed.”
Blood flooded my ears, each pulse causing my head to throb.
My hands clenched into fists, my nails making crescent-shaped marks into my palms. It wasn’t just anger that I was feeling because Solana was a fucking cokehead; it was the immediate surge of protectiveness I had for Shya.
DNA test be damned, a three-year-old having access to drugs in my house was a fuck no.
I felt my chest cave in as I struggled to find my next breath.
Every muscle in my body had tightened as if I was ready to actually beat Solana’s ass.
When I gained the courage to face Solana, she scoot back, having already seen what was in Shya’s hands.
Solana began shaking her head. “Shio, te prometo que eso no es mío. No me queda más. Tienes que creerme. (Shio, I promise you, that is not mine. I have no more left. You have to believe me.)”
“This bitch a fucking Mexican powder head. I’m ’bout to beat your ass, Columbiana!”
Bahati tried hopping over me, making the baby squeal.
“Aye, chill out!” I placed a hand on Bahati’s chest.
“Shio, do you realize had she ate this bullshit, I would be in jail? We would be in jail! I’m not about to have a CPS case because your bitch plays with her nose!
This is what the fuck kind of bitches you like now?
Cokeheads? You prance off with a druggie, but you nearly choke me to death for nothing?
” Bahati screamed so loud that I was sure the house windows had shaken.
“Is she good?” I asked.
Bahati was still shouting threats.
“Aye!” I yelled. “Is she fuckin’ good?”
She nodded but kept her eyes on Solana as she mumbled under her breath.
“Aite, go to the back…. Now, Bahati!”
Bahati squinted her eyes, not moving. “Stay out of my way, bitch. It’s a wrap! Every time I see you, your ass is mine!” She then looked at me and snarled. “Handle your whore. Junky bitch.”
Once Bahati switched off and slammed the door, I turned to Solana.
Grabbing her by her arm, I pulled her up from the floor and damn near dragged her to the garage since it was the closest exit from the kitchen.
The summer heat hit us instantly, adding to the warmth already boiling in my blood.
I stalked to the passenger side of my Mercedes.
“Shio…”
“Shut the fuck up, Solana. You worried about Uriah’s name being on the fucking mail, but my daughter could have overdosed due to your careless ass? Just get in the car and don’t say shit else.”
Shoving her into the passenger seat without hurting her, even though she deserved it, I looked to the sky to calm my anger.
Once I was in the driver’s seat, I felt suffocated.
Ten minutes of what I assumed would be normal for us—at least until I figured some shit out—had been shattered.
Slamming my car door, I put the car in reverse and backed out of the driveway.
“Where are we going?” she whispered, her fear slipping into her tone.
Phone in hand, I made a call and waited for an answer. When I heard, “Waddup, big cuz?” I sighed in relief. Sometimes, it was hard to catch the youngins in between their plays.
“Meet me at Jisei’s townhouse.”
I didn’t have any words for Solana. I wasn’t answering any of her fucking questions. There was nothing I could do for her. I wanted to kill her, but something inside me wouldn’t let it happen. When I was done with her, though, she was going to wish she was fucking dead.