Page 3 of On Everything

Ciara

“Yes sir, he came in and started fighting Kairo, speaking about a difference they were having.”

“Difference?”

“Kairo was sleeping with his lady, I guess.”

“Okay, I will be back in a second.”

Telling the detective that Kairo was cheating on me made my throat burn from the hurt inside my chest. I hadn’t saw him yet.

God knows I can’t wait to see his ass so he can feel the wrath of this heartbreak.

See the pain I’m sure that was set in my eyes from believing him through his lies.

I know my eyes are bloodshot red, from all the screaming and crying I’d been doing tonight.

Pernelle couldn’t even decipher what I was saying over the phone when I called her a few hours ago.

She kept saying, “Bitch, you killed Kairo!” She even screamed, “Bitch, Kairo killed you?” Obviously, not hearing anything I was saying.

There is really no telling what rumor is going around the projects right now because when we were walking out of the building with the cops, there were crowds of people out in the hallways.

Now, I been cooped up in this small interrogation room for hours, freezing my butt off from the vent directly over me. When the door finally opened, in came the short Italian detective with the spiked hair and large mole over his lip.

“Okay, Ms. Chalvez, you are free to leave now.”

“So, that’s it? You don’t need anything else from me?”

“No, that’s it,” he answered with his lips pressed together.

“So, what is happening with Kairo? Is he being charged with murder?”

My stomach was in knots waiting on his answer. Why I cared? I do not know. I guess I’m just used to it. Used to worrying about his fate even now, when I shouldn’t give a damn what happens to his dog ass.

“No, the department has more than enough evidence for a self-defense claim. A murder charge is out of the window for your husband.”

“Good. So, is he out of custody yet?”

“No, ma’am. Kairo is not out yet, nor will he be unless the judge has a soft spot for him at court. I can’t see that happening though. A felon with a gun is guaranteed jail time in most cases. Kairo is looking at a probation revoke and at least a ten-year sentence.”

My heart dropped to my stomach once he said that.

“Wow.”

“Yep. Unfortunate in this case, but it’s the law. Now, you can make your way out through those double doors to the left.”

He pointed where I should be walking, yet my feet couldn’t move. I was stuck for a few moments, almost winded from the gut punch he just gave me.

How could Kairo have been so stupid? He knew he could get in trouble for that gun.

He had to know he could get real time for a probation revoke and not those petty one year and six months sentences he was used to.

I had no clue a gun was even in the apartment because I’m terrified of guns.

Guns are terrible, and where a gun may have saved his life, it ended Diablo’s and changed mine forever.

This is the last time I will let him have any effects on my future and I have to stand on business about that shit.

I can’t wait on him for ten years just for him to get out and be the same person.

It’s a risk I’m just not willing to take anymore.

Once I stepped out of the 43 rd precinct, the noise of the New York streets engulfed my ears.

There was an overwhelming scent of butter and onion from the hot dog cart a few feet away from the front doors.

The humid air wrapped around my body even though the sun was already down and I dreaded this trip back to my spot.

Usually at night, Kairo would walk anywhere with me. Walking alone was always against the rules, and the only exception was if I were with my best friend. I wish she had a car, but I am just going to thug it out and pray no one fucks with me on my way to my spot.

As soon as I started off down the sidewalk to the bus stop, a man came through on a bike dinging his bell before he had to swerve to keep from running me over.

“Watch where the fuck you going.”

He had a boom box on his handlebars, playing old hip hop music, with a beanie on his head in this hot ass weather.

“Rude muthafucka!” I shouted to him, hoping he didn’t double back on me with a gun or no shit.

I continued down the block, carefully stepping over the trash and piss covering the ground in front of me.

As I approached the bodega at the end of the block, I noticed a group of Dominicans standing outside, speaking loudly about something that was probably irrelevant to the rest of the world.

I only took a few steps past them when one of them grabbed my arm, which instantly pissed me the fuck off.

“Ayo Ma, let me holler at you.”

“Get your hands off me you fuckin goofy. Are you dumb?” I snatched my arm away from him.

“Alright, fuck you!”

I tuned him out after those words, which was easy to do with all of the chaos around me.

There were loud honks from impatient drivers in the street, sharp banging from doors slamming, and sirens of a nearby ambulance that was stuck in traffic up the street.

I hadn’t even made it a block away from the police station, and I found myself harassed and overwhelmed, but this is only the beginning.

Each block after that was a series of unwanted comments echoing off my ears that I tried to ignore, with the unsettling feeling of being watched by every man who I passed.

When I got on the bus, the harassment didn’t stop when a nigga sat down next to me who could've easily sat in another seat.

This was the type of shit I didn't have to deal with having Kairo around.

Men in New York sometimes see women alone as easy prey.

I honestly need a knife or something other than a gun to defend myself so that I can feel safer in the streets.

By the time I got off the bus and reached my building, I felt a mixture of relief and exhaustion from the trip home. I reached for the door handle to my building and tugged at it, but it often jams, and right now it wouldn’t budge for shit.

"Ugh, come on, open up. Fuck!"

The latch had been broken all summer and living in the projects, you just learn to get used to certain shit. Thank God no one is actually chasing me like I felt. This will be my first and last time coming home after dark. That's for damn sure.

When an arm came reaching over me.

The scent of his deodorant alone told me who it was.

“I got it.”

He pulled the door open after a few pulls.

“I don’t know when they going to fix this shit.”

Ant was behind me with a box of Frank’s pizza in his hand. The pizza smelled good as shit, but Ant smelled even better. Whatever body wash he used was seeping off his pores and giving off a fresh spring smell. I always loved that shit about him.

“Who knows if they ever will. Mr. Lopez is more concerned with being petty over everything else.”

“Very fuckin true.”

I walked in front as he and I both started up the stairs.

I was nervous walking in front of him. I was insecure about a lot of shit especially since I gained a little weight being cooped up in the house waiting on Kairo all the time.

Kairo told me he liked me this size, but deep down, I think he wanted me as big as his fat aunt Bennae so no one would want my ass.

“So, are you good? I heard about the shit that happened earlier in your apartment.”

“As good as I’m going to be for tonight. I have a filthy apartment waiting upstairs and a huge bloodstain on my floor. I can’t believe that really happened up there.”

“Well, the crime scene unit most likely cleaned up the blood for you before they left. They usually do when it’s a murder.”

“Really? How do you know that?”

He shrugged his shoulder.

“Been around a lot of murders.”

When I chuckled, I was laughing by myself because Ant didn’t crack a smile.

He had such a serious and calm demeanor that him laughing would actually seem out of place.

I liked him this way tho, not all loud and demanding attention like a lot of the niggas around here.

Shit, like my husband, who loves to be the center of attention especially when bitches are around.

We climbed the stairs until it was time for me to exit the staircase.

“Alright, this is my drop off. Enjoy your dinner.”

He smiled and nodded at me without saying another word.

I stepped out of the staircase onto the third floor and looked down the dimly lit hall, noticing the crime scene tape still on my door.

Exhaling deeply, I took each step towards it, more slowly than the last. It wasn’t until my phone started ringing that I had a reason to stop my slow stroll completely, to get my phone out.

Call from Pernelle.

I leaned back against the wall in the hallway to answer.

“Hi best friend.”

“Ciara, where the fuck are you at!”

Pernelle’s voice was loud and over the top as usual.

I couldn’t stand her in middle school because she was always the loudest person in the lunchroom.

That was until I realized she was really a cool girl.

She may be ghetto as shit and slightly irritating at times, but she’s still my girl.

Pernelle doesn’t play about me, and I don’t play about her.

“Girl, I'm standing out in the hall outside my apartment. I'm really dreading the idea of going inside.”

“Yes girl, I heard about Kairo wacking some dude from Brooklyn.”

“Oh, is that where this Diablo nigga is supposed to be from?”

“Yep. My brother said he’s familiar with the crew that he runs with. Says he can’t believe he didn’t smoke Kairo first. Diablo is supposedly some street nigga that is married to some big booty stripper named Bunny. Or Jessica.”

“Wow. So, it’s a big booty stripper that has Kairo about to go away for some years having a gun? I hope her big booty ass was worth it.” I rolled my eyes.

“Damn, so he did it with his own gun?”

“Yep, a gun I didn’t know his ass had.”