My father flicked the tip of his nose, and I could tell that he was trying to keep his cool. “You can come out to my house. We can sit down and have a conversation.”
“Now you want to have a conversation? I can’t get an invite to dinner, kiss my ass, or any kind of recognition from you. But you parade this bitch around like she’s your blood?”
DJ calling me out of my name made my body temperature rise, but I kept my mouth shut. However, my father and Uno stepped forward.
“I think you need to show some respect,” Uno stated calmy with a tone full of bass.
“I don’t have to respect shit because I haven’t been respected. This nigga is a hypocrite. He walks around like he’s the king of the city, and he left his son for dead.”
“Left you for dead?” my father barked. “Nigga, I was trying to let you get your shit off, but now you’re being delusional as hell. I had love for your mother, so one thing I never wanted to paint her as was the bad guy. She wasn’t just some ass for me. Shit was complicated. At one point, we wanted to be together, but we couldn’t. She had someone and so did I. When she became single, she wanted me to up and leave my wife, and I couldn’t do that. She was pissed. Especially after learning that Apricot wasn’t mine biologically, but I still chose to be with her mother.
“I had done Connie wrong enough, and I just wanted to get my shit together. And that pissed your mother off. Despite me buying her a house, a car, and giving her $20,000 a month, she wouldn’t let me have shit to do with you. I tried for years. So have your facts straight before you come at me with your chest puffed out.”
“And if that was the case, why didn’t you reach out to me once I was of age? You didn’t think I needed to know that information?”
“I should have. You’re right. But I already had one child that didn’t want shit to do with my lifestyle. I wasn’t sure if you’d be the same way.”
“She’s not your fucking child,” DJ seethed between clenched teeth. He was extremely bothered by the fact that Devin actually viewed me as his child.
“I was there from the day Apricot was born because her mother let me be. I raised her. My blood isn’t pumping through her veins, but she’s very much my daughter. I need you to respect that.”
“I don’t have to respect shit,” he spat as he whipped a gun from the small of his back.
My eyes bulged out because DJ was clearly off his rocker. Time seemed to stand still but things actually went very quickly. Uno and my father both moved toward DJ, but that didn’t stop him from pointing his gun at me. I screamed and attempted to duck. A deafening pop pierced the air, and screams came from every direction. I scrambled for the ground and when Uno fell in front of me my screams grew louder. The bullet had missed me and hit Uno instead.
CHAPTER 14
UNO
Despite beinggroggy from the pain medication, I fought to keep my gaze trained on Apricot. “You’ve been crying for the past day, shawty. I’m going to be fine,” I assured her. I was high as a kite off the pain medication they placed in my IV, but I was tired of sleeping.
“Because this is all my fault. I bet your life was normal as hell before I came into it with all of my baggage and bullshit. I’m sorry, Uno.”
Tears rolled down her puffy red cheeks. “Aye,” my tone was serious as a heart attack. “Don’t apologize to me again. You act like you pulled the trigger. I saw the gun in that man’s hand, and I still went for him. That was on me. Not you. I worked for your father for years before all this. Even if I wasn’t directly involved, I’ve seen all kinds of things. Life happens.”
“I just hate that you’re going through this. This is the second shooting that has occurred with Kiwi around. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I just don’t know what to do.”
“There is nothing you can do except to get her some counseling. Talk to her and reassure her that everything will be okay. Your father is out of the game, and DJ’s ass is in jail. Hopefully, life is about to go back to normal for everybody.”
“My dad wants them to do a mental health evaluation on DJ. If he attempts to pull some strings so that DJ doesn’t get a harsh sentence, will you be upset?”
“I mean, I can tell the lil’ nigga is off his rocker. If it’s determined that he actually has some kind of mental illness or whatever the case may be, whatever happens, happens. I’m good, Apricot.”
I had been shot in the side and though it hurt like hell, I was going to be okay. I didn’t want Ace to know I’d been shot. Me not seeing him for more than three or four days in a row was very unusual, so I was anxious to heal. Once I was released from the hospital, I could tell him that I got hurt playing basketball or something. Protecting kids from certain things was a daunting task, but I took into account all the things that Apricot said traumatized her as a child. I didn’t want Ace worrying or anxious. Also, I was a firm believer that a child shouldn’t be in adult business.
“I have to go get Kiwi. Did they tell you about what time they’re going to discharge you tomorrow?”
“The nurse said around noon if nothing comes up.”
“I’m coming to pick you up.” Apricot leaned over and kissed me. “Give me your key so I can go to your place and get you an outfit. Unless there’s something in your house you don’t want me to see,” she smirked.
“There isn’t anything in my house that you can’t see. My keys are over on that table.” My words had started to slur, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to fight my sleep any longer. The moment she left the room, my eyes closed, and I fell into a deep sleep. When my eyes opened again, it was dark outside. A food tray sat by my bed. I usually didn’t sleep through the nurses coming in my room. That pain medication was no joke.
Wincing from the pain, I sat up and pulled the rolling table over to my bed. The hospital food wasn’t delicious, but itwasn’t terrible. I was starving, so whatever it was would have to do. Removing the tray, I saw two baked chicken legs, mashed potatoes and gravy, and peas. For dessert there was a brownie on the side of the plate in a small bowl. Not even caring that it was cold, I dug in. I cleared everything off my plate and washed it down with a cup of ice water. There was a light tap on my door. “Come in.”
Mr. Jennings walked in carrying a black backpack. I noticed he was walking better, and his left hand was no longer balled into a fist. It seemed that physical therapy had been working for him. He walked over to my bed and held his palm out to slap mine.
“You saved my daughter’s life.”
