“Yeah. You knew him?” I asked, just wanting to see.
“Nah. Not on a personal level. I just knew of him. Shit was fucked up in the hood when he was killed. You know he had his own army of niggas that worked with him, so they were making it clear that they were going to slide for him and kill the cop that killed him. It’s almost like they had the cop in the best kind of witness protection that they could find because nobody was ever able to find him. Shit is crazy because when we met Tom years ago, this nigga told us that he was from Pensacola. He said that he did twenty years in the Navy, before he moved out here to West Palm to retire. He was a decent dude. I chill with Tom all the time, and your mama cool with his wife. Damn. No way I had him around me like that. I had a crook inside my house this whole time,” my pops went on, and there were so many things that were going through my mind right now.
I was never really cool with Tom like that. I would speak to him any time that I came over to visit my parents if I saw him outside on his porch or something. He’s been over here a few times when I visited, probably helping my dad out in the backyard, but still, our conversations were always short. I never got deep with him, telling him what I did for work, but it made me wonder if my pops ever told that shit to him, especially since the two of them were close, and did have a strong bond.
“Ay, you told that nigga what I do for a living?” I asked my pops, needing to know. If he used to work for the feds, the last thing I needed him to know is what I was out here doing.
“I’m cool with Tom, but nigga, I’m not cool to the point that I would tell him how you out here moving. Why would I ever do some goofy ass shit like that? When you first got your G- wagon, he complimented me on it, and he asked me what you did for a living. I told him that you were a businessman, and he never asked me that question again. How ya’ll going to handle that though? Your girl tough, man. She saw right through his ass,” my pops went on to say, and I nodded my head, agreeing with him.
“She not going to rest until she handles him. You think he going to leave town?” I asked him, just wanting to see his stance on it.
“Shit, he just might. If ya’ll going to handle it, better handle it fast. Ay, whatever you doing with Riot, your black ass better not be cheating, nigga. She smart. You not going to be able to be sneaky with her and think that she won’t ever find out about it. Fuck around, and cheat and your black ass going to come up missing,” he let me know, and my brother stood on the side of him laughing.
I waved him off, knowing that I didn’t have those kinds of problems to worry about.
“Cheating don’t ever cross my mind. I’m faithful to her ass,” I responded, and when I said that, I could see my mom smiling.
“You got that from me because you damn sure didn’t get it from your daddy,” my mama said, taking her eyes off me for a second, so that she could look at him.
The thing with my mom is that she claimed that she forgave this nigga for all the cheating that he did, but here we are, years later, and she’ll still throw that shit up in his face. It could beraining outside, and she’ll talk shit, reminding him of how he got caught cheating one time in the past when it was raining.
“There you go with that bullshit. When we went to therapy years ago, what the fuck did the therapist tell your ass? She said that if you were going to forgive me, and take me back, that you needed to stop bringing up that shit from the past. A nigga haven’t cheated on your ass in years. Stop bringing that old shit up,” he snapped on her, slapping her on her ass, and then he pulled her his way.
She tried to fight him off, and pretend that she didn’t want him touching her, but I knew she loved that shit. My mom adored my father. It was in her eyes. The fact that she adored him so much proved to me that she was still a little hurt by the things that he did to her in the past because she never expected that kind of stuff from the man that claimed to love her as much as he did.
“Go back out there and check on Riot, son,” my mom said to me, once my dad let go of her.
I gave it a few seconds before I stood up, and I made my way over to the sliding door. I closed it behind myself, and I walked over to the side of the house, where I left Riot.
It was a sitting area over here. She was sitting down on the swing, looking ahead of her, so she never turned to look my way when I walked out, but I knew that she felt me.
I could feel her energy from where I was, and it was heavy. You could tell that the news that she just found out had hurt her. I hated that shit too. I hated that things kept getting thrown her way that was causing her pain.
I took a seat on the swing with her, and I reached for her, picking her up, so that she could sit sideways in my lap. She wasn’t crying anymore, but her eyes were still red, and you could see the sadness in them.
“We can leave if you want to. I ain’t going to force you to stay here, knowing that the man that killed your dad is right next door to us. I wouldn’t torture you like that,” I let her know, and she nodded her head.
“We can stay for a little bit. You drove an hour to get here. Plus, I know you want to spend time with your family. I’m going to be fine,” she said.
I leaned in, so that I could kiss her on her forehead, and I dropped it from there, not wanting to keep hounding her with it.
It took about ten minutes before Riot stood up, and she announced that we could go back inside the house. Once we were back inside, you could tell that she tried to turn off how she was feeling, but it was obvious that the load she was carrying was still heavy. My family offered her their condolences about what happened to her father, and she thanked them.
When the food was ready, she barely ate anything, and she apologized to my parents, telling them that she was sorry for being so quiet, but they understood, and no one was mad at her for doing that. I felt like I was torturing my girl by making her stay here, so eventually, I stood up, and went around the room, so that I could say my goodbye’s. My parents made it clear that they were going to drive down next weekend, so that they could get another shot at getting to know Riot, since it didn’t go as planned this time.
We made it outside, where Riot led the way over to my car that was parked in the driveway. She knew not to reach for the handle, so she moved out of the way, allowed me to pull it, and open it for her. After that, she got in, and I closed the door.
I walked over to my side of the car, quickly stepped in, closed the door behind me, and I followed Riot’s eyes. She was looking next door. Her eyes were on Tom’s house.
Before I pulled away, I wanted to say something to her.
“Ay, make me a promise right quick,” I voiced. She turned so that she could look at me. She didn’t say anything, but her eyes were telling me to go ahead and say what I needed to say.
“Promise me that you won’t come down here and try to kill this man on your own. I’ll get him to you. Bae, I promise. That shit too risky. You was able to get away with that shit that you did to Cam because Kent covered the security. Look where the fuck we at, baby. These are million-dollar homes out here, which means that it’s million-dollar security. The moment you turn your car into this development, it’s eyes on you, and your being recorded. You won’t be able to kill this man and get away with it. Promise me that you’ll wait for us to come up with some kind of plan before you come out here, and you try to handle this shit on your own,” I looked her in her eyes as I said this to her because I needed her to feel me and understand what I was saying.
“Okay,” was all she said.
She tried to turn her head back around, but I reached my hand up, placing it up under her chin, forcing her to keep her gaze on me.