Chapter 19 #5
“The test was inconclusive, so we gotta take another one, Bahati.” Her eyes widened, but before she could say anything, I kissed my teeth. “With yo’ innocent ass.”
I left her standing in the kitchen. I didn’t like it when my thoughts were jumbled.
I didn’t like it when shit didn’t make sense.
Usually, when shit was fucked up, my mind would go to my childhood.
Nowadays, the past was just that, the past. Instead of sticking my head in the room to check on Shya, I went to my room, closed the door, and then went into my en suite bathroom.
The lights automatically flicked on as soon as I stepped onto the marble floor.
I pulled the black T-shirt over my head and threw it into the basket sitting on the closet floor to my right.
I had worked incredibly hard on my body.
I’d pushed myself even more over the last few weeks, and the sharp lines and ridges in my abdomen were evidence that the push was working.
Stepping out of my pants, they hit the floor with a thud.
I grabbed my cell phone that was sticking out of my left pocket and opened the camera app.
I’d gone from having sex with two women to having two women in my grasp, both wanting something from me that neither of them deserved.
I’m not the kind of nigga who thinks I’m above women.
I would consider myself soft when it came to women.
Soft legs could nearly get anything they wanted up out of me.
Shit, a chorus of smiles from church women could get what they wanted up out of me.
Men were put on this earth to serve women—to worship them.
The female species was the only one capable of producing life.
We wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for women, but in the same sense, women have been the downfall of many men.
Still, I gave them the benefit of the doubt because I had that much love for the opposite sex.
I was obsessed with women. I was disciplined, but every day I thought about the wit of a woman.
I knew the benefit of having the right woman on my team, in my bed, and in my mind.
I respected them, even when some of them didn’t deserve it.
And the way I viewed women was a nod to how I saw my father and his fuck-ass family treat women.
I didn’t respect my father’s actions. He was a coward.
He didn’t value my mother—not in the way he should have.
Behind closed doors was one thing, but openly and publicly was another.
I had all the qualities to be everything to the woman God placed in my life, but I couldn’t understand for the life of me why I had to deal with fallen fruit.
Clicking the camera app to full screen, I placed the phone on the counter, placed my hands shoulder-length apart, and leaned over. Swiping down on the screen, I turned the volume up.
“This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him.” Solana was on her knees, a towel wrapped around her body and another one on her head as she read from a Bible.
“First John, five, fourteen,” I recited.
Exiting the app, I swiped to the call log. She hadn’t texted me for a few hours. Although I never responded when she texted, I worried when she didn’t.
I shouldn’t worry.
Dropping my head, I closed my eyes to try to quiet the chatter. It was no use. I hadn’t known peace since my first visit to Mexico City. I had, but it was temporary. Short-lived. The only time I’d had peace since then was in this bathroom, not even that long ago.
Craning my neck to the left, the porcelain tub reminded me of the night everything went wrong.
It was the night that I promised myself I would pursue Solana.
I promised it to her. Now, I had just vowed to marry Bahati if she was innocent.
I didn’t like to make promises I couldn’t keep.
I’d already broken my promise to Solana, and I knew in my heart there was a chance I’d have to break my promise to Bahati.
My mind wasn’t wired to believe a person’s word.
I believed their actions. I believed their energy.
And my mind hadn’t been settled since I became a father, or at least since I was told I was a father since neither DNA tests could confirm it.
The broken promises were just that, broken words—broken words of affirmation.
However, that wasn’t what made me toss more than I should’ve at night.
What made me unsteady was that a part of me knew I’d probably have to kill one or both women before or after I made it down the aisle with one of them.
God first
Make sure the family good
Eye them Cuppacio boys, the little and the big ones
Build a relationship with my brother
Get my brother rich
Health and wellness (ALWAYS) (Shake back)
Stay on top of my mob shit
Keep Hobo alive (DOING)
Get through the meeting with Ines Ledesma
House a random
Find the true reason Solana is here
Figure out if Solana is supposed to be my wife, again
Find a wife that isn’t Solana
Kill every breathing Rodríguez Cartel member (URGENT)
Fuck Bahati up (TBD)
Get my fucking daughter
Get Bahati’s arm fixed
Get to know my daughter (DOING)
Figure out what the fuck I’m going to do with Solana
Leave the mob entirely or marry Bahati or Solana
Get DNA test
Spend time with my daughter (DOING)
Tell my mama about Shya
Keep Solana in real nigga rehab until she clean
Get SECOND DNA test
Check on Bahati’s apartment
Don’t fuck Uriah ANYBODY
Get to the root of Shya’s constant crying
Get THIRD DNA test or say fuck it
Marry Bahati IF she is innocent