Chapter 12 #2
“You know why I don’t like her going over there. Your mama don’t like me, and because of that, I don’t care for her to watch my daughter! Don’t come over here trying to start nothing, Rico!” she fussed.
“I’m not coming over here starting shit!
I’m simply telling you how I feel about the situation.
It’s women out here that wished they had the kind of help that my family is willing to give you, but you hate my mama so much that you won’t take it,” I snapped at her, and when I did, Romy jumped a little bit in my arms, as if I had frightened her.
I picked her little body up, consoled her with kisses, and then I looked back over at Promise, who was still standing by the door.
“Enjoy your time with your daughter, Rico. I’m not doing this with you tonight. Good luck on your game tomorrow,” was all she said before she opened the door, walked out, and closed it behind her.
“Your mommy is crazy. I hope when you grow up that you take after me, and not her. She’s sick in the head,” I told her, as if she could understand anything that I was saying to her. She looked at me with confused eyes, not knowing what the hell I was talking about.
I talked with my baby for a little bit, and I eventually stood up with her, went over to her dresser, and pulled out a onesie for her.
I laid it down at the changing area, and I took her out of the room, and across the hall, where her bathroom was.
Her small tub that Promise had for her was still in the bigger tub, so I went ahead, and filled it up with some warm water for her, and once it was enough, I removed her clothes, where she started immediately fussing because she was cold.
“Alright. Alright, daddy baby. Hold on. Hold on,” I cooed to her, lowering her down into the warm water, and the second her body touched the water, she immediately stopped fussing.
I knew my baby loved to take baths, so instead of bathing her right away, I let her soak up the warm water, while I took a seat on the edge of the toilet seat, keeping the lid down.
“I can’t wait until you get old enough, so we can start doing fun stuff together.
I gotta take you to Disney World. We going to ride all the rides together.
I’m ready for your first birthday party too.
Ima throw you something big. What kind of party you want?
Baby shark? A princess party? Elmo? What you want, mommy?
” I asked my daughter, who was looking me dead in my eyes as I talked to her.
She was looking at me in a way like she was deep in thought, and she could fully understand my questions.
Looking at my little girl, I found myself getting emotional. I don’t know what the fuck came over me, but my eyes got misty, and the second I blinked, tears fell. I laughed it off, as if I was embarrassed that I was crying in front of her.
“Your daddy a G, baby. I’m not crying. I had something in my eye,” I lied to her, as if she gave a damn.
During her time of sitting in the tub, she kept letting out yawns, so that’s when I removed myself from the toilet seat, got down on my knees, and I proceeded to bathe her.
The whole time that I was wiping her down, she had her eyes closed, as if she was in heaven.
I finished up and prepared for the way she was going to start fussing like she always did whenever her baths were up.
Her little butt started screaming as if someone was killing her the second that I lifted her, and I wrapped the towel around her.
I moved out of the bathroom, keeping her in my arms, and when I made it to her bedroom, I noticed that the door was cracked.
I know for a fact that I’d closed the door behind me.
The second I got in the room, I saw that there was a bottle on the dresser, and I knew from the bottle that Promise had come in and left it for me.
“Okay. Daddy got you. One minute, baby,” I talked to her, getting her to the changing station, where I dried her off, put some powder on her, a new diaper, and I swiftly put her onesie on.
I got her in my arms, picked the bottle up, and went over to the rocking chair.
She attacked the bottle the second that it touched her lips.
She finished it quickly and dozed off. I picked her little body up, putting her on my shoulder, patting her back, so that I could burp her.
I got a loud burp from her, and in about five minutes, I stood up, going over to the mirror, where I turned to see if she was sleeping, and she was.
I cut the night light on in the room and then turned the bedroom light off.
I lowered her down in her crib, putting her on her back, and for about five minutes, I stood over her, taking in how beautiful she was.
I didn’t want to leave, but I knew that I had to.
I needed to give my body the rest that it deserved for tomorrow’s game, so as hard as it was, I eventually pulled myself away.
I slowly made my way out of the room, and I went back to the bathroom, so that I could clean up behind myself.
Once everything was good, I left out, going out front, where the women were.
They all wished me good luck on my game tomorrow, and I wasn’t surprised that Promise didn’t say anything to me.
She’ll fall out with a nigga about the smallest shit, and I could give two fucks.
Her ass could stay the fuck mad for all I cared.
I slipped my shoes on, and I got the fuck on.
As I was walking out of her apartment door, my phone started ringing.
It was Toby hitting me. The nigga that pissed Tank off and had him ready to kill me.
These days, I lowkey hated when this nigga called me because it was a constant reminder of the shit that I had gotten myself wrapped up in with him.
A part of me wanted to just ignore the nigga, but I knew how persistent he was, so he would just keep calling.
I had a game tomorrow, so I knew exactly the reason he was hitting me.
“Yo,” I answered the phone, as I was jogging down the stairs.
“What’s good with you nigga? You know why I’m hitting you. What’s the word for tomorrow’s game? Tell me some shit that I want to hear,” this nigga got right to the point, just like I knew he would.
I moved through the parking lot fast, pulling my keys out of my pockets so that it could be ready for me to unluck it once I made it to the car.
“Man, I know what I gotta do tomorrow. You ain’t gotta hit me the day before each game to remind me, nigga. I ain’t no fuckin child!” I snapped on him.
This was coming from a place of anger. Anger from the shit that I was wrapped up in.
Like the shit that he had me doing for him was a joke to him, he started laughing.
“You better watch that shit, nigga! I don’t know who the fuck you think you talking to, but Rico, you know that I can handle you.
I’ll hate to have to do your ass the way that I almost did your cousin the other day.
Relay the message to that nigga the next time you see him.
Tell him that I’ll stretch his ass out fuckin with me! ” Toby threatened.
I was in the car by this point, and my blood was boiling.
Having to be on the other end of the phone, while I listened to another nigga dish out demands to me, followed by threats on what he would do to Tank had enraged me.
I couldn’t go off the way that I wanted to.
Not when this nigga had too much damage control.
I sat in silence, not saying a thing.
“That’s what I thought, nigga. So, for tomorrow’s game, I see that the Hardrock has you catching over one hundred yards, playboy.
Go under for me. Because what I just put in for you to go under is going to bring me in a nice ass check.
Ya’ll playing Bama tomorrow, and them boys looking good this year, so with that, they predicted you to score only one touchdown.
I put on my ticket that you not going to get a touchdown at all—”
“Nigga, what? Since when the fuck I ever played a game, and I’ve never scored a touchdown?
I’m going to have millions of eyes on me tomorrow.
Nigga, my time in college, and playing college ball is coming to an end.
This is my last fuckin season! I’m trying to be a first round draft pick next year for the NFL.
I can do the little shit like not get as many yards, but nigga, I gotta score tomorrow.
Look at what you asking me to do man. You telling me to get out on that field and not touch the end zone?
That’s the equivalent of you telling me not to do my job! ” I roared at him, angry.
“I don’t give a fuck about none of that shit, nigga!
Make my ticket hit motha fucka! That’s the only thing that I care about.
I don’t know who you feeling like tonight, but I’m not the nigga that you want to challenge.
I’ll make you lose all this football shit.
I’ll see you tomorrow on the big screen.
My tickets better hit,” was all he said before he hung the phone up on me.
I was angry. I used my fist to constantly punch at the steering wheel.
I grew so angry that tears began to fall down my face.
As I was sitting here, having my moment, I thought about the events that transpired that had gotten me in this fucked up situation with Toby.
This shit has been going on for two years now.
Two years ago, I went out with Toby, and his cousin, Jax.
Like I told Tank, I had been knowing these niggas since we were little boys.
I grew up with them. Even after high school, and with me going to college, and playing college ball, I kept in contact with them.
The night that we went out two years ago, it was some house party that Toby had invited me to.
He told me that it was going to be a lot of bitches there, so of course, I pulled up.
While they were drinking, smoking, and partaking in whatever other drugs that was there, I only had one shot, and was vibing the entire night.
All night, this dude named Tobias that I went to high school with had been mugging me from across the room.
I used to play high school football with Tobias, and me and him never got along.
Nigga had a bunch of pent-up anger towards me because I was always better in football than him.
Our senior year, he’d sustained a major injury at one of the games, and that injury basically ended his entire football journey.
Nigga hit rock bottom after that. Dropped out of school, and after all his surgeries, he started moving with the wrong crowd, getting in trouble with the law, and shit like that.
I hadn’t seen him since that night on the football field when he’d got hurt, so seeing him at that house party was my first time seeing him in a couple of years, and at first, I didn’t recognize him because he’d put on a bunch of weight.
He wanted my attention the whole time we were at the party.
He was talking shit, saying how sorry the Miami Hurricanes football team was, which he knew was the team that I’d played for.
I could sense that I was going to get into some shit with that nigga, so I removed myself from the situation and I went out on the porch.
The porch is where Toby and Jax were. I’d been out there with them for about ten minutes, when Tobias eventually made his way out.
Came out talking shit still, and before you knew it, me and that nigga was fighting.
I’m talking street fighting, where we were picking up shit, trying to kill each other with it.
I blacked the fuck out. I just remember Toby putting a gun in my hand, and I used that shit.
I killed him. Right outside on the porch, I pulled the trigger, killing him.
I remember Toby screaming for me to leave, and that he would handle it.
The whole time, I’m thinking this nigga was looking out for me because he knew the promising career that I had with football, but he would use this shit to his own personal gain.
Toby was in the streets, so it wasn’t hard for him to get a crew on the scene to clean it up.
I don’t know all the details of how Tobias body had gotten removed because I left.
All I know is that Toby hit me later that night, telling me that I could chill because it was handled.
Football season started a couple of months after that incident.
I remember that call that I’d gotten from Toby the night before the game.
Nigga told me that he was putting a ticket in, and he wanted me to drop a pass.
At first, I thought the nigga was bullshitting, and just trying to be funny, but he wasn’t.
He quickly reminded me that I owed him for the shit that he handled for me with Tobias.
I knew that I could have been in prison for murder for killing Tobias, so missing one little pass at the game the next day didn’t sound too bad.
I’m thinking that was the only favor that he was going to ask for, but for the rest of the season, that nigga had me doing shit for him, so that his tickets could hit.
My talent on the field had turned into this nigga’s personal hustle.
The shit I was doing was illegal. I could lose everything behind this.
See, the way Toby put his parlays in were different from many people around the world.
He put his parlays in, wanting me to underperform.
I was that much of a beast, so it wasn’t like my underperforming was being questioned yet by my fans.
My underperformance was the equivalent of another wide receiver playing at their full potential because I was just that good.
I just knew that my stats lately haven’t been my best performances on the field.
For example, if I caught less passes than what was predicted of me, then Toby would win some big money.
If I played too good, then Toby would lose money.
The shit that I was wrapped up in with this nigga wasn’t small.
I couldn’t just say fuck him and walk away from it because he was holding a murder over my head.
I did know that I couldn’t continue to let this nigga blackmail me like this.
The only option that I was going to have was to kill him.
I wasn’t a killer though. I never meant to even kill Tobias.
That gun was put in my hand, and I blacked out.
I really didn’t know what the fuck to do.