The line disconnected, and my hand slammed into the counter so hard the sound cracked through the kitchen. Sharp pain shot up my arm instantly, like my bones shifted the wrong way. I flexed my fingers, but they didn’t move right, and swelling started instantly. I knew something was fucked up in there. Probably fractured, but that pain didn’t compare to what I was feeling in my chest.
When I walked out of my mama’s house earlier, I already felt like my life was over, but now it’s worse. Now it’s ending in a whole different way.
I leaned back against the counter, breathing through my nose, trying not to let the pain in my hand distract me. Blood was rushing in my ears, and my heartbeat was loud as hell. My mind kept racing, but not in that scheming way it usually does. There was no plan forming, no thoughts of “maybe if I just did something different” coming up.
I’m not calling Hov, and I’m not reaching out to anybody to try and twist this into something else. There will be no shortcuts, no rewrites of this story, and I’m walking straight into this, at least hoping I can save my daughter. This shit is all On Me and no one else should suffer.
Especially not baby girl and my baby mama.
Chapter 2
Pernelle
I was lying on the floor, tied up, shivering against the cold concrete, feeling every breeze that came through the cracks of the doors. I’d been cold this entire pregnancy, but now I knew I had never actually felt New York cold before. This wasn’t just a normal kind of cold. It was the kind that seeped into my bones, but somehow, it was the only relief I felt against the aching and bruises covering my body. These men had beaten me like I was a punching bag with no remorse. I didn't even feel like an animal. I felt much lower than that.
They had me in a small, dark room with just a thin line of light from under the crack in the door. When I heard the doorknob twist, my heart slammed against my chest so hard that it might stop on impact. I squeezed my eyes shut and my muscles locked up on instinct. I was bracing myself before the pain even came because at this point, I expected it.
When two of the kidnappers came in, the light from the other room hit their bodies, and smug looks stretched across their faces like they were enjoying this shit.
“Your bitch ass man hasn’t come through yet. We gave him the drop an hour ago. We see he obviously isn’t taking this shit seriously, so we’re about to send him a video to let him know we’re not fucking playing with you.”
“No, please don’t. You don’t have to do this. I’m sure he’s on his way. Crew wouldn’t leave us here.”
Laughter filled the room, loud and ugly.
“Crew is a cold-hearted nigga. With the way he killed seven people, it is hard to think that he gives a fuck about a bitch and a baby that he has never met before, but we are going to see. If this video we are about to send him doesn’t work, then we know he’s not coming.”
My face was already swollen and numb from earlier, and my eyes were nearly swollen shut. That still didn’t stop them from approaching me and balling their fist up to hurt me in ways I’ve never felt.
The first slap cracked hard, snapping my head to the side. I squinted my eyes, trying not to scream, trying not to cry, as the other punk held the camera up to record my pain.
After the first slap, the punches came. Over and over, fists slamming into my face, my ribs, and my sides. His hands were grabbing in my hair and yanking hard, ripping the tracks straight out of my scalp. Threads and strands of my 4c hair were coming loose in his hands. My head felt raw, and my scalp burned like fire.
Though my body felt wrecked, every now and again I felt my baby kick, and as long as she was moving, I told myself that at least she was still alive. So, I am going to stay curled over my stomach with my arms wrapped tightly, protecting the only thing that mattered at this point. Her.
The kidnapper threw one last blow into my right shoulder, and pain exploded down my arm. I grabbed it with my left hand, shaking from how bad it hurt, but I didn’t want them to see me break. Fuck that, I was done crying out and giving them satisfaction from my pain.
“You a tough ass little bitch ain’t you?” He laughed, attempting to shake the pain away from his hand.
“Yeah she is, family, but everyone is tough until they're about to die.”
The one holding the camera commented.
When a man appeared at the door, they both stopped to see who was coming in, and I braced myself once more for someone else to put their hands on me.
“Amir, what the fuck do you want?”
“Y’all still beating on her? What the fuck is constantly beating her up going to do if you told the nigga the stipulations?”
He seemed irritated.
“Because we are about to send this nigga a video to make him speed up a little bit.”
“Just a video of her already beat up would’ve probably worked. Beating her even more is overdoing it.”
“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know shit. Go sit the fuck down because our father told me that I am in charge not you. You need to just make sure everybody is at their markers for when Crew comes.”
“Why can’t you two idiots fuckin do it?”
