Accidentally #2
“Wait a minute. I seen this name before. It was on the news. Nigga was killed by his bitch, right? Who is he to you?”
“My sister’s dumb ass baby father.”
“Ok. I was dragging my feet, but I’m boarding. Keep going. What you gonna write on it?”
“I’m going to put X over his last name.”
“Well, that’s boring,” Fatima said looking around.
“I meant like on every last Turner that I find in this graveyard. I’m just starting with is bitch ass.”
Jakia began to spray the red paint across the headstones. She walked through rows and rows of the dead marking the last name Turner with an X. If something was left behind for them, she tossed it on to the grave beside it.
When Fatima wasn’t distracting a random passerby, she recorded what Jakia left behind. When they finished, there was a total of twenty-eight headstones.
“You got the video?” Jakia asked Georgia. “Bet. Post it all over social media. You bomb as fuck, thank you!”
“Girl, thank you! This shit fitna get my views up, which gets them payouts up. You the best but also, you’re going to Hell and so is Fatima because I hear her voice in the background.”
“Maybe post it without the sound. And don’t forget, it needs to be first thing in the morning. Thanks again.” Jakia said before hanging up. “Georgia said we’re going to Hell.”
“I was helping a friend. God knows my heart.” Fatima hadn’t considered that when karma came, it would side swipe her ass right along with it. When Jakia asked her to send the video to Georgia Victoria she didn’t hesitate. “Fuck.” She sighed. “I’ll repent later.”
“Not me. I meant that shit,” Jakia said under her breath. “Who the fuck is that?”
“I was about to ask you, shit. He cute.” Fatima parked in front of the building.
“Puppies are cute.” Jakia rushed out of the car, pulling her gun from her backside and aiming it in his face. “Tina sent you?”
“Nah.” Warlock put his hands up. “Hussein.”
Jakia lowered her gun. “I’ll call you!” she turned to Fatima, who pulled off as she was tucking her gun back in place. “Talk, nigga.”
“Some shit going on with the phones. Nigga can’t call you. I had him on the phone but you wasn’t here. Told me to sit out here until you came home.”
“Ard. To say what?” she asked with a shrug.
“That he love you.”
“And?” she waited for more.
“That’s it.” War stretched his arms out.
“Tell him I said that ain’t enough.” She rolled her eyes.
“Jah, baby, what’s up!” Twon came up behind her. He kissed her neck before standing in front of her. “You good? How my baby?” he touched her stomach.
“I’m handling something. Go inside. I’ll be up in a second.” She sighed.
“Ard.” Twon made eyes contact with Warlock before heading inside the building.
“Anything else you want me to tell him?” War lifted his eyebrows.
“Tell him love don’t stop wars and it damn sure don’t belong in the middle of one. Outside of that, you can tell him whatever the fuck you want,” she said, walking away.
Jakia wasn’t ready for Hussein to know that she was pregnant. The only way to stop him from finding out was to beg Warlock not to say shit. She wasn’t doing that.
“What’s that?” she asked Twon about the package in his hand.
“How would I know? Some nigga sent it to you. Dontrae. Who the fuck is that?”
“None of your damn business.” She snatched the package from his hand, after opening the door.
“And why the fuck was Warlock out front?”
“Again, none of your business.” She used her key to open the box.
It was two thirty pack of Lidocaine patches.
She’d been complaining that thirty a month wasn’t enough when she had pain in three different areas in her body.
Wallah was trying to build a relationship with her outside of Carmell.
He wanted to look out for Jakia on the strength of loving her sister.
She didn’t have anybody and he wanted to be there for her.
“You fucking him or something?”
“Who?” Jakia asked offended.
“Warlock? Whoever the fuck Dontrae is? Hussein?”
“I don’t even know Warlock. I barely know Dontrae and Hussein is currently in a cage. So, nah. I’m not fucking them. I ain’t fucking you either. You want to hang around and help me carry this baby, cool.”
“You don’t want me here?” Twon asked.
“Honestly? I don’t. Realistically, I need someone and it might as well be you. It’s the least you could do. But you don’t have to be here. It’d be no different than everything else I’ve had to go through alone.”
“That’s not what I was saying.” Twon sighed. “I got you.” He nodded, hands in his pockets.
“And while you are here, don’t ask me shit.” Jakia turned on her heels heading for the bedroom. “I’m going to take a nap.”
She hadn’t forgotten that Twon abandoned her when she needed him most. He thought he was using the baby as a way back into her life.
He was the one being used. Once Jakia gave birth, baby daddy or not, he’d only see Jakia to exchange the baby.
She still didn’t want shit to do with him.
He’d already shown her that she couldn’t rely on him when it mattered most.
TINA’S HOUSE | 10:58 A.M.
“We know why that was the last name chosen!” A father in pain yelled at the camera.
“Why my daughter gotta pay for that?” He roughly wiped a tear from his eye.
“She was killed when she was thirteen from a stray bullet! Now This! It’s fucked up.
I’m not even related to the Turners they tryna send a message to!
Leave the civilians out of that street shit! ” he pleaded into the camera.
“It’s really unfortunate,” an older black woman spoke to the brunette from the news station.
“My husband fought for this country. All he got to show for it was a discount at a fucking fast food restaurant. Even in his death it held no weight because they drew on his headstone like a child coloring on the wall.”
“From me and the rest of the United States, I want to say thank you to your husband.”
“Fuck you! You don’t speak for the rest of the world. God ain’t left you in charge! You want to thank a veteran, give them their flowers while they are living and breathing. Dropping live flowers on dead bodies is useless.”
“Thank you for your time, ma’am.” The white woman was red when she faced the camera.
“As you can see, several families were affected by this gruesome act. We want to hear from you, is this just a horrible prank from the wild teens in the city or is there more meaning behind the X’s?
Is someone trying to send a message? Chime in on our Facebook page.
We’ll be right back after this message.”
Tina sucked her teeth as the TV cut to a commercial. “She got me.” Tina shrugged. “I have to give her credit where it’s due. I ain’t have shit to do with what she did to those headstones, but somehow, I’m being blamed.”
“Well, no one said your name.” Nisha shrugged, eating cold fried chicken as a snack.
“They didn’t have to. This city knows the message was for me. So, now I have to apologize without admitting guilt.” Tina sighed.
“That’s easy to clean up. All you gotta do is make a cash donation to the affected families,” Prissy suggested.
“And throw something to the organization that volunteered to clean it up. I think it’s called BMore Better or something like that,” Nyelle added. “I’ll see if they have a website or something.”
“I wanna donate more to the families than the organization. Think it’ll fare better with the people. Now, I need a quick pep talk for dealing with this Rashida bitch. She’ll be here any second.”
“You simply need to remind her that you both have the same goal, get the boys and raise the boys,” Nyelle said.
“And a common enemy, Jakia.” Prissy reiterated.
“Can I just say that I’ve never been in a room of women that get it. No competition. No jealousy. Everyone knowing what they add and bringing it to the table.” Nisha smiled at the ladies. “I can’t do much right now, but when I have this baby, I want to be a part.”
“And what’s your role going to be?” Tina asked, laughing.
“Using my Potomac background to get us in rooms with the rich.”
“And then what?” Prissy asked.
“I don’t know, we rob them?” she said and the room laughed at her naiveness.
“No but it would be nice. I tried to do something like this years ago. It didn’t work out,” Tina’s liquor swirled around the bottom of her glass.
“What happened?” Nisha asked.
“Jealousy. Competition. Everybody wants to be the HBIC.” Tina shrugged. “But there can only be one.” A knock at the door interrupted them.
“That’s probably her I’ll go get it.” Prissy stood from the table.
Tina quickly downed the rest of her glass. Nyelle rubbed her hand across the table, giving her a small smile.
“You got this,” Nisha encouraged lowly as Rashida and Prissy’s footsteps grew closer.
“Well doesn’t this look familiar,” Rashida looked around the table. “Just different faces. And new faces, who are you?” Rashida asked Nisha.
“Nene, I’m,” she paused glancing at Tina for permission. Tina nodded. “I’m Boom’s baby mother.” She stood showing her stomach off.