Page 25 of Cove City, Volume II

As I drove down the highway, I snuck peeks at Tuesday. She glared out the window so helplessly. I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing or not, but my heart felt like I was. Every time I looked at her, I saw a part of myself. I saw all those lost days filling her as they did me. I saw a strong woman who was torn between love and life. I hated that Quinton was able to get access to her the way he did, and that part of me hoped Pierre handled it before we arrived.

I didn’t even know how he would take it, knowing I made the decision to get Tuesday. All I know is that I want happiness for both of them. The letters I had given her had much of Naheem’s and my past relationship in them. I had hoped she would gain something from it. It really wasn’t about the article, more about the small things. Showing her what it looked like when you turned your back on love. When you were forced to face the truth of what happens when love slips through your fingers. What it looks like when your career, one that you thought would take you places, is put before what truly makes you happy. When you choose not to compromise for the sake of your pride.

My hand landed on her leg to get her attention. When she looked at me, I could see the fear, the love, the sadness all wrapped into one weak smile.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She nodded slowly. “Yes,.

“she paused.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, you can ask me anything.”

“If you had a second chance to make things right, to go back in time and choose him, would you?”

I laughed. This was something I thought about often. The easy answer would be yes. However, my lifetime was much different than hers.

“No. If I chose to do that, I wouldn’t have my children. I wouldn’t have met a beautiful, curious soul like you. Naheem’s and my story went the way it was supposed to. It allowed me to see him for who he truly was. So, no, I would not go back. I will always have a special place in my heart for Naheem, but our days are done.”

“When are you going to tell Pierre?”

I turned away from her to focus on the road. Pierre and Bishop becoming best friends isn’t what I had in my cards. What were the odds that the man I was once in love with and a woman I strongly disliked would have a child who would become my son’s best friend? Angela hated me for it, as if it were my fault. She hated me because she thought I was the one who told Naheem about Ishmael. She hated that I took in her son each time she decided to put him out. She hated that Naheem’s love for me was endless. Angela changed that man, and because she was as evil as she was, it had become her demise.

Tuesday, asking me that question struck me. I knew it was my time to face some truths. However, before I did that, the first truth I needed to face was with Naheem. He was the beginning of the end. Naheem held it all: sex, love, and pain.

Over a week and a half, a nigga has been in every crevice of the city hiding.

I’ve rested behind buildings, slept in places I would have never imagined, all to hide from a nigga that was once like my best friend.

The idea of me being violated, as I had done to others, crossed my mind more than once.

In my eyes, I didn’t deserve to die.

A nigga was becoming restless and cracking to the point of surrendering.

This was a nigga’s last chance to get the fuck out of here.

I strolled past a store’s window when I caught a glimpse of my reflection.

I stopped to stare at myself.

A young black male who had become a statistic.

Everything they thought a nigga like me would be; I was.

I was that nigga that’ll rob you.

I was that nigga that’ll deceive you.

I was that nigga that’ll fuck a bitch raw and leave her with a baby.

I was the nigga that couldn’t handle rejection.

I was the one, the family member, you couldn’t trust. I had a crackhead for a mother and an absent father. I was left with nothing while those around me lived the life of the rich.

I was the son of a monstrous man and every element of him was in me.

For every reason I was the way I was, life had been sucked out of me.

My thick, muscular frame changed.

I had gotten smaller.

My face, which was once full of life, had been sucked in.

A nigga hadn’t had a decent meal in weeks.

Hell, I had barely drunk water.

I was running on fumes and wasn’t sure how much longer I had before my body succumbed to the world.

I tossed the hood back on my head and continued on my stroll.

Every other second, I would glance behind me to make sure I wasn’t being followed.

My walk lasted about an hour before I reached my destination.

The house I approached was bigger than I had ever seen.

You didn’t need to step inside to know that there was a muhfucka, with money, who lived in it.

To know I had been living in the slums all these years when I could have been sitting nicely only made me upset.

I walked up the driveway with a million scenarios going through my head.

The further I got, the more I recognized a car in the driveway.

The best thing to do would have been to turn around and leave.

Instead, I made my way toward the door.

I gave it two light knocks and waited.

One minute became too long, so I was going to do what I did best, break in.

I needed answers, and I wasn’t leaving until I got them.

Not only that, a nigga needed money.

I wanted to be set free of this curse and this was the only way in my eyes.

When I strolled around the back, I noticed a camera.

I turned around with my back facing it.

Once I was underneath the camera, I balled my fist and cracked the window open.

I stuck my hand inside and opened the door.

Stepping inside made me feel different.

I glanced around at all of the luxuries.

Gold trim this, fancy China that, even the smell was of money and a nigga inhaled deeply.

To know that the amount of money invested in this mansion, while some families were out there homeless, said everything.

To see that every dinner was savory, healthy, and fulfilling said even more.

The sounds I heard coming from the foyer were ones I wasn’t expecting.

Before leaving the kitchen, I opened the fridge.

Fancy ass waters, fruit, and a cheese and meat platter met my eyes.

I grabbed a water and guzzled it down before grabbing a handful of meat and cheese, devouring it.

The bitter cut of the cheese and expensive ass prosciutto tasted like a fucking cheeseburger.

I exited the kitchen into the open foyer family room.

Seeing the picture of Bishop and his fucked-up twin brother bothered me.

I hated that nigga, Bishop.

I knew his battle with Chevy was only beginning, and if I made it to see that battle, it would make me a happy nigga.

The demise of Prince pussy Bishop and Chevy confused fucking Calloway.

I began chuckling at the thought until I heard that sound again.

I needed to see for myself to understand what was happening.

I crept up the stairs, trying my best not to make a single noise as I inched further up the spiral staircase.

This is some fancy shit.

When I reached the top, the bedroom door was wide open.

I poked my head in, then out, then in again.

This time, I stopped because I could not believe my fucking eyes.

Now, I had a reason to ask for money.