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“Whatever man!” before he could even get the chance to take another step, his dad was on him, rushing him, getting to him by the front of the wife beater that he had on, and he was jacking his ass up.

“Who the fuck you think you talking to? That’s your mama, nigga!

I don’t know if you hanging with them white boys too much on that baseball team, but your black son!

I will knock your ass the fuck out for talking to your mama like that.

You acting like she telling you to move fuckin mountains.

She asked you to take the trash out, wash your dishes, and clean your fuckin room.

Turn to your right, homie. That’s a walk-in closet that you got right there with just about every shoe in that bitch that you can think of.

You got nice clothes, games, jewelry, all that shit.

The least you could do is do the fuckin chores around this bitch that your mama ask you to do.

She shouldn’t even have to ask you!” Law spat, roughing him up a little more before he let his shirt go.

His shirt was all wrinkled now from the way that Law had him hemmed up. Creed wasn’t a crier at all, but when he was angry, he would shed tears, so a lone tear fell from his eyes, but he quickly wiped it away.

“Apologize to your mother, boy!” Law ordered him. Another tear had fallen from Creed’s eyes, but just like the last one, he was quick to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry for being disrespectful and not doing my part around the house.

You won’t have to say it to me another time,” his voice sounded sad, which didn’t do anything but make me feel bad.

It’s like Law could read me right now because he turned his head to look at me, and he glared at me in a way, as if he was threatening my ass to stay over by the door, and not to go over to Creed and console him.

He knew my actions before I even played them.

So that I wouldn’t get that urge to go over, and baby him, I ended up walking out of the room.

Instead of going back downstairs to finish cleaning, I went in my bedroom, so that I could finish making my bed.

All my bedding was finished washing and drying, so now was a perfect time to make the bed.

So many parts came with making my bed. I had to add the comforter protector, wrestle with the damn fitted sheet, and once the flat sheet was on, here I was, waiting for the steamer to get hot because I wanted to take out any wrinkles that was left over.

Placing the duvet on top was another one of my least favorite things because it was so damn heavy, and because I was working with a king-sized bed, I was back and forth, taking steps on each side, trying to get the perfect look.

My door wasn’t closed all the way, so during me doing this, my bedroom door pushed opened, and it was Law walking inside.

We haven’t been around each other ever since we fucked a week ago.

I was embarrassed to be around him, which is why I had been avoiding his ass.

He stripped me of my pride last week with that dick.

Had me hollering out, kissing him, cumming back-to-back, and even giving him head like I was his wife all over again.

Drinking that entire bottle of wine by myself was a dangerous ass game, and here were the consequences that I was dealing with.

“How many times you done called Legend?” he asked, and I laughed.

When the boys went with their dad, or even my mom, I wouldn’t bother them as much.

I let them be free, and I would just check in from time to time.

Any time that they did something where they traveled with school, I would always call to check in with them, just to see how things were going.

Even though West Palm Beach was just an hour and some change away, I wanted to check in with my son, just to make sure that he was fine.

“I only called twice,” I lied, not going to give him the real answer.

“That shit don’t even sound convincing. Leave him alone for the weekend.

Let him vibe out and hang with his friends.

You’ll call him to death. Legend not like Creed.

Creed going to tell your ass that you being annoying, and overbearing.

Legend won’t say it, out of fear of hurting your feelings,” he said the truth.

Legend was my gentle giant. He was so sweet to me.

Creed was sweet as well, but he had his moments where he could be an asshole, like what he just finished doing a few moments ago.

“Whatever. I’m going out tonight, so I won’t bother calling or texting. I’ll just do it before I walk out the door,” I let him know.

I had to walk across the room to get to the other side of the bed, so that I could pull the duvet up.

I wanted him to look at my ass so bad when I did it.

I was wearing these black tights from Alo, and I loved the way my ass sat up in the tights.

I was a part of the itty-bitty committee when it came to my ass, but certain things would make my ass poke out, and look fatter than what it was, and that’s what was happening here with these tights on, and I wanted him to break his neck to look.

The tights went with the matching Alo sports bra, so my tiny waist and flat stomach was exposed.

This was just a little something that I would wear around the house, while I was cleaning up.

“You want me to ask you so bad where you going. Where you, Shai, and Milan going?” he asked, as I crossed over the bed.

“I hate when you do that. Why don’t you think that I’m going on a date?” I inquired, making it to the other side of the bed, but I paused, so that I could turn my head to the side, and look up at him.

“I answered that question for you not too long ago. Soraya, you not bold enough to tell me that you going out with a nigga. You been in my life since you were a little ass girl. I know every fuckin thing about you. I damn near raised you,” he talked shit, and I rolled my eyes at him.

His ass was two years older than me, and till this day, he swears that he raised me.

I paid him no mind, as I finished making up the bed.

I could see him out of my peripheral, and he had his arms crossed, looking down at me.

It’s almost like he wanted to say something but was waiting to spit it out.

“Dutch pulled up on me at the office the other day,” he let out after about two minutes of silence.

By this time, I was already standing at the foot of the bed, and I was putting the pillows back into the pillowcases.

I was facing him though, so I could see the expression on his face, after he just revealed this to me.

The look, mixed with his tone let me know that Dutch pulling up on him might have been something deeper.

“Oh yeah? What did he want?” I questioned.

I knew how much Law loved Dutch. I loved Dutch too.

I’ve known him since I was a little girl, living next door to him, and Law.

The two of them had a great bond. When you saw the two of them together, and the way they bonded, you would really think that Dutch was Law’s biological father.

“He didn’t want anything. He just pulled up on me.

Me, and that nigga had to exchange a few words.

I don’t know what the fuck I got going on, but I took the boys with me a few days ago to see my mama.

I was showing her pictures and shit of Creed, and Legend.

When I was swiping through the pictures, it landed on a picture of Dutch that I had in my phone.

Immediately my mama told me that I needed to watch that nigga.

Remember I told you before that she’d already told me that shit a few times?

Usually, I won’t even pay that shit any mind, but the other day, I sat with her, and I entertained it for a little bit.

I asked her why she always telling me to watch out for Dutch, and she told me that she be seeing him in her dreams, along with my pops.

It’s like she’s sure that I shouldn’t trust him.

Curiosity got the best of me, so when he pulled up on me the other day, I told him what my mama said.

I even went as far as making that nigga tell me where he was the morning that my pops was killed,” Law expressed to me.

I had been quiet the whole time that he was sharing this story with me, but the end part of his statement had kind of thrown me for a loop, so it caused me to pause, and I took a seat down on the ottoman that was in front of the bed, putting the pillow in my lap, and I looked up at Law.

“Where you getting at with that? You think that Dutch killed your father? Law, no,” I said, not believing that.

“Ya, I don’t know what the fuck to believe.

That nigga stumbled over his story. Over the years, he’s told me that the morning my pops was killed, that he had been out of town on business with a nigga named Darryl.

I purposely asked him that question the other day to throw him off his square, seeing if he would fall for the shit, and he fell for it, saying that he was with another nigga named Tee.

That shit nagging at me, Yaya. You feel like I’m tripping? ” he asked me.

“I’m not answering that because if I say something that you don’t agree with, you’re going to get mad, so no. I rather not respond,” I said, standing up from the ottoman.

“Man, answer the shit. Tell me how you feel about what I just told you,” he was adamant. I could tell by the look in his eyes that he really wanted to hear my answer.