“We’ve known you since you were?—”
I cut his wife off too.
“Ay, man. All that back in the day shit is dead. Monica is fucking around with my life and my wife and she gon’ have to see me one day.” I pressed my gun to his head and leaned into him. “Correct yo’ mothafuckin’ daughter before you end up having to bury her ass.” I shoved his head away from me with my gun. “Now call her.”
“Call Monica?” He repeated.
“Ask me another stupid fucking question and I’m gon’ get to her because she’ll be attending your funeral, nigga. Don’t ask me shit else. Call your bobblehead ass daughter.” I clicked the safety off my gun. “Now.”
“Despite what you might think of me, Berlin, I’m not going to set my daughter up.”
“Set her up for what, stupid? I can’t kill that bitch through the phone. I just want to talk to her, so call her.” I nudged his head with my gun.
I’d been searching for Monica’s ass all day but she was ducking and dodging like a master. She hadn’t been to work or her house. There were no nail or hair appointments. She hadn’t gone to her favorite sushi spot. Nothing. She was still radio silent. I’d called and texted her. She hadn’t posted on Skroll or anything. I had faith I was going to catch her slipping but I wanted to get it done sooner rather than later.
As much as Myome loved me, there was only so much disrespect she would take and I’d be damned if Monica made something pop off on the first night of my baby’s tour.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath then grabbed his phone from the bedside table. I watched him unlock it and Isnatched it from his hand before he could send a warning text. I scrolled to her number and video called her. It rang once, twice, then a third time before she picked up.
“Dad? Is everything okay? It’s kind of—” She froze mid-sentence, her mouth ajar.
I had my gun pointing at her dad’s head and her dad’s phone pointed at my hand and his face while he sat there, eyes slammed shut.
“If you hang up this phone, I’ll kill him,” I warned.
“Drix, what are you?—”
“You don’t talk. You shut up and you listen. The same way I got hands on your parents tonight is the same way I’ll get hands on them if you try to play games with my marriage,” I warned her. “Even if you think I can’t get to you physically, trust me when I tell you that I know how to get to you in other ways. We messed around for years, Monica. I could roll up on your whole fucking family if I wanted to.” I paused. “You get what I’m saying?”
She nodded and I cut my eyes at her. “Yes.”
“If you’re pregnant, you know it’s not for me so don’t even fucking play like that. If you ruin my marriage, I’ll ruin your fucking life. You hear me?”
She immediately started sniffling.
“I hear you.”
“Good. Don’t get your whole family killed over dick you’ll never even get to whiff again, stupid.”
“Drix—”
I cut her off by hanging up.
“Thanks, man.” I tossed the phone on the bed between Monica’s parents. “Have a good night.” I nudged my head toward the door. “Come on.”
I was happy I’d finally gotten to give Monica my message. I meant every word and she knew that.
Dashawn and I dipped out the same window we’d come through and I smoked a joint while we drove out to my favorite little spot in the hood to get my usual.
Unfortunately, it was set to close any day now so I was trying to get the last of my fix in when I could.
The spot had been open since I was young and nobody knew for sure why it was closing and I’d been asking around frequently. If it was a little money issue, I was down with throwing a little money at the problem to help a small, Black-owned business stay afloat. Although I’d probably charge interest, it would be less than the bank.
I exhaled and looked at my phone when it vibrated.
Babygirl: Are you coming home?
Me: Yeah.