“You did that shit?” he asked me after about five minutes of the truck being quiet. I knew that question was coming, and when it did, I was going to shut it down. I didn’t want to talk about it.
“Ion know what you talking about, man. Take me to Promise crib. I need to see Romy,” I let him know, and he dragged a hand over his face, to calm himself down. I knew he wanted to tackle my ass right now.
“You don’t know what I’m talking about? Nigga, I hope you sounded more fuckin convincing while you were in that interrogation room because the answer you just gave me, your ass sounded guilty as fuck. You know motha fuckin well what I’m talking about, nigga! Them detectives came knocking on my door at ten this morning, pulling you out for questioning. That’s what I’m referring to. Did you kill Toby? Now ain’t the time for you to start acting fuckin slow!” he snapped on me, and my jaws tightened, wanting to tackle this nigga the same way he wanted to do me.
“Man, I’m dealing with enough shit already. I ain’t trying to talk about that shit right now, aight? You got good sense, pops. You know if I did that shit or not!” I snapped.
Even though my dad and I were close, and I liked to think that I told him everything, I just couldn’t fix my lips to confess this shit to him. I lack trust right now. Not to say that him, or Tank would rat me out because I knew that they would take secrets to the grave for me, but it was just my own mental battle that I was fighting.
“You got an alibi? That’s all I want to know,” my dad pushed it again.
“I need you to take me to the alibi right now. That’s why I asked you to take me to Promise crib,” I said, and he shook his head.
“You going to use your baby mama as your alibi, man? The one you always so hot, and cold with? Oh yeah, you must really think that this shit is a fuckin game. Promise beef with you more than she’s cordial with you. You say one little thing to piss her off, I wouldn’t be surprised if she ratted on you. I’ll let you figure this shit on then, nigga. You want to be stubborn, and don’t want to use the family that you got, that’s willing to help your dumb ass, then that’s on you!” I had him hot. I chose to keep quiet, and not say anything else.
Ten minutes later, he was pulling up to Promise’s apartment complex. I knew that she was going to be pissed that I was popping up on her, without checking in, letting her know that I was on the way, but I needed to holla at her, and that’s the only reason I was coming by unannounced.
When we pulled up, my pops was so pissed with me, that he didn’t even address me before I stepped out. I did reach in the back seat with my hand, so that I could slap hands with Tank, and he did just that, while also letting me know that the two ofus were going to have to talk. All I did was nod my head towards that.
I walked away, keeping my hoodie on my head. As I was walking, I looked back, and I could see that Tank had gotten out of the back seat, hopped in the front, and once the truck door was closed, that’s when my dad pulled off.
Right in front of the apartment building, there was a beautiful, black Bentley Bentayga parked. It was a car that I’ve never seen before in this area. I would know because I was over here often, visiting my daughter. I could hear the car still running, but the tints were so dark on the vehicle that I didn’t know if someone was inside or not.
I walked passed it, continuing to admire it, and then I made it over to the stairs, jogging up them. The second I made it to Promise’s floor, I saw a nigga that was walking, heading my way. I had to squint, just to make sure that it was who I thought it was. I never seen him in person. Just on TV, when I watch his games, and shit.
He got a little closer, and sure enough, it was Marquez. Marquez was the NFL football player that Promise told me she was fuckin. The one that she swore she wouldn’t have around my daughter until her, and I had that talk. With the shit that I had going on, I honestly didn’t give a fuck who Promise was fuckin, but I was serious when I told her that I didn’t want random niggas around my baby. Romy was only four months old. I didn’t want any nigga that she was dealing with picking my daughter up, sitting her on their lap, changing her diaper, none of that shit. Romy didn’t need a daddy. She had one already.
“Yo. Where you coming from, nigga?” I asked him, getting right to the point.
Marquez probably had me beat by 20-30 pounds, with bigger muscles, but I didn’t give a fuck about none of that shit. You could tell that he was caught off guard by my question. The niggacouldn’t have been too confused because he had to know who the fuck I was. I’m sure him, and Promise were on that level where he knew who her baby daddy was.
“I know you from somewhere, man? Who the fuck is you to be questioning me about where I’m coming from? Move around yo,” he snapped, coming at me with the same energy that I’d just given him. I couldn’t fault him for coming at me the way he did though.
By this point, we were literally just a few inches away from each other. Marquez and I were damn near the same height, so our eyes were straight ahead, looking directly at each other.
Without sounding like I liked niggas, I’ll admit that he was a good-looking man, so I could see why Promise would go after him. We were the same height, but like I said, he was bigger. He had to be about 250 pounds. Straight solid. Dark skinned dude, and he had waves in his hair. He was fresh, standing before me in an all- black Alo sweat suit, with black, and white Jordan 11’s on his feet. Nigga wasn’t dripping in diamonds or any of that crazy shit that a lot of men like to do, to show that they were making money. He’s been getting money for a while because he’s been in the NFL for about five years now. I guess by now, he was used to the money and didn’t have to have it showing so loudly on him. I could bet my last dollar that that Bentley that was parked in front of the building, like they owned the place, was probably his.
Not to count this nigga’s pockets or no shit like that, but before I even found out that my baby mama was fuckin him, I was a fan of his because he was good. I knew that earlier this year, he’d signed a 3- year deal with the Steelers for $45 million. This man had all kinds of Nike athlete endorsement deals. I saw him in all kinds of commercials last season, and I knew that he was coming out with his own sneaker. A rich nigga like him was right up Promise’s alley because I knew that that was the onlykind that she liked to deal with. I knew I was making money, but to be honest, I was probably the brokest nigga that Promise ever dealt with. Her track record dates to NFL players, rappers, all kinds of millionaire niggas. Back then, I never used to let that shit bother me because I knew my day was coming when I started signing million dollar checks with the NFL, but now that I had all this shit going on, I really didn’t know if that was going to happen for me anymore.
“Ay man, you ain’t gotta act retarded with me, yo. My baby mama already told me that she was fuckin you. Man to man, I’m looking you in your eyes, telling you not to be around my daughter. I really hope that we don’t have to have this conversation again,” I spat.
“And I appreciate you for telling me that, but me, and Promise already got that part handled. She made it clear to me from day one that I couldn’t be around her little girl, and I’ve accepted that. Our shit is still fresh, so it wouldn’t even be an appropriate time for me to be around her baby anyways. I’m in town for a couple of days, so I just pulled up to drop Promise off some gifts, and flowers. I didn’t even go inside the house. When she answered the door, she told me that Romy was in bed, sleeping. Watch out with all that fake tough shit. That don’t scare me. You got enough shit going on right now, homie. I’m the last nigga you need to be picking a fight with,” he finished, and after that, he bumped me and walked away.
Everything was telling me to swing on this nigga, and beat his ass, but like he said, I already had too many problems. I let him have that one, turning around, watching him as he went for the staircase, taking the stairs down, and just like I said, the Bentley that was parked in front of the building, it belonged to him. I watched him as he hopped inside, and seconds later, he took off.
With a shake of my head, I walked away, going for Promise’s door, and the second I was in front of it, I beat on it with my fist.
It took about thirty seconds for her to come to the door, and when she did, she had this annoyed look on her face. She came wearing a pair of light blue denim jeans, that looked to be glued onto her like a second layer of skin. I could see the black bra that she was wearing, as she was trying to buckle the white top. It’s like when I knocked on the door, I disturbed her from getting ready. There were flexi rods in her hair, that was holding her curls in place, and her make-up was done too.
“Why the fuck did you knock on the door like that? And why are you popping up on me like this? I swear, when I move, I’m not giving you my new address. We’ll do pick up and drop off somewhere else because you really get on my fuckin nerves with this shit, Rico! I’m not your bitch! Stop popping up on me like that. I don’t like that shit!” she screamed, walking over to me, and getting all in my face.
“I already saw your nigga if that’s what your worried about. Why you rushing to put your clothes on? You just fucked him with my daughter in the house?” I asked.
I swear, this shit wasn’t even like me. I never gave a fuck what Promise had going on in her personal life. I was spiraling. So much shit was happening back-to-back in my life that I felt like I was losing my mind. I feared that I was getting ready to lose everything, so to come over to her crib, and to see a nigga that had everything, had the lifestyle that I just might lose, it added onto all the other shit that I already had going on.
“Rico, please! I don’t have time for this shit. Did you have the balls to ask him that shit? If you did, then nigga, you would know that he didn’t even come inside the house. He just dropped off some stuff for me, we talked for a little bit, and he left. I have somewhere to be, and Romy is sleeping. You can come back later to get her,” she said, blocking the door, as if she didn’t even want me coming inside.
My eyes left hers, and I looked over to where her living room area was. I had a clear shot of it. This nigga came over, and he dropped off gifts like he was Santa Claus. I saw everything from Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Prada, Cartier, and Balenciaga shopping bags. The shit took up the entire couch. Not only that, but there was about two stacks of big bills that was wrapped up in rubber bands. Beautiful red roses that I’m sure costed a grip too. Not going to even lie, that shit hurt a nigga a little bit. I wasn’t hurt behind my baby mama moving on. Shit, I hoped for the best for Promise. I was just at a low point in my life right now, so to see all this shit that another man had done for her, I can’t lie, it stung a little bit.
