Saying a few more words to the other men hanging around, Biggie stalked back to his truck. As soon as he got in, Tuesday let him have it.
“Are you fucking insane? What kind of shit are you into? What was that all about?”
Biggie calmly drove away from the curb, tucking his gun in the middle console of the car. Tuesday shrunk away from it, terrified it might go off by accident.
“Hello? I’m talking to you?—”
“What you want me to say, man? You’re a smart woman. I’m sure you could piece together what that was all about.”
She stayed silent for a moment longer before crossing her arms over her chest, pouting.
“You in the streets, aren’t you? How deep?”
“Deep enough,” Biggie replied.
She scoffed. “Yeah, this ain’t gonna work. I’m not gonna allow my son to be around this shit.”
“You ain’t gon’ have a choice once those test results come back.”
Tuesday sat there stunned. She was entirely too angry to talk about this at the moment, so she sat back in her seat and mumbled, “Just take us home.”
Biggie sighed, but she noticed he made the correct turn to get them toward her house.
The drive was completely silent, and Tuesday wondered how she was going to handle this shit. Never in a million years did she think that when she finally had a kid she would have one with a street nigga. A hood dude. A dope dealer. She didn’t want Wallis around this kind of shit. This kind of danger. She knew she needed to figure out a way to get that through Biggie’s big head.
When they finally made it to her house, she wasted no time unbuckling her seatbelt and reaching for the door handle.
“Aye, man. Chill. Let me holla at you before you rush up outta here all mad and shit.”
She sat back in her seat and stared straight ahead. Tuesday was hot as a jalapeño pepper. She couldn’t believe the predicament she now found herself in.
“Look, man. I’m not gonna have my son around no shit?—”
“Then what the hell was that, Biggie? Explain it to me and make it make sense! You’re telling me that if you’re alone with my son, and you get a call just like that one, you wouldn’t bring him with you again to that… trap house!”
Biggie ran a hand down his face in frustration. It was silent for several seconds.
“I clearly have a lot to learn.” She scoffed. “But I need you to be patient with me. All of this is new for me.”
She sighed. “I will not have my son around that shit, Biggie. That’s a hard no for me, and I need you to respect that.”
“Aight, man. You got my word.”
Tuesday glared at him. “I’m serious. Nothing can happen to my son because of your bad decisions. And to add to that point, I can’t have my son getting attached to you only for something bad to happen to you. What’s your plan, Biggie? What’s your end game here?”
“Stop calling him your son. He’s mine, too, ain’t he?” he said, dodging the question.
She nodded. “Fine.Ourson. Now answer my question.”
“I don’t know, man. Before I knew about Wallis, I didn’t really have a plan. Get money. That was the plan. Now, I don’t know. I haven’t had enough time to think about it.”
Tuesday eyed him sadly. This was a turn of events she hadn’t anticipated, and it seemed as though they both had things they needed to think about. Her main concern was making sure Wallis was protected from anything that could harm him, whether physically, emotionally, or mentally.
“I think you have a lot to think about,” she murmured.
He tentatively reached out and grabbed her hand.
“All I ask is that you be patient with me. I’ll figure it out, but in the meantime, I’ll make sure you and our son are safe and protected. I know we don’t know each other like that, but you’ll come to learn pretty quickly that I’m a man of my word.”
