I knew Mula was leaving. I felt it in my chest before I even saw it. I was parked down the street, tucked low in the cut, eyeslocked on the Maybach parked in front of his little hotel he made home. The driver was loading bags into the trunk, moving quick with no words.
Mula stepped out next, fresh as hell, with dark shades on even though the sun wasn’t up yet. He looked the same way he did the first time I saw him—chocolate skin glistening in the heat, chain heavy on his chest, like the world couldn’t touch him.
I knew the truth now. I knew Mula wasn’t just some smooth nigga from Southwave. He was hiding from the world that almost touched him. He was hiding from a body. I found out a lot over the past few months, mostly from playing my position. Quiet. Watching. Waiting.
He hadn’t touched me in a month, not since the last time he let me turn my face into a fucking cum rag. I told myself it was enough, but it wasn’t. I wanted more. So, I started digging.
I searched forYummi—the name he whispered in his sleep sometimes, the name that made his eyes glaze over when he thought I wasn’t looking. I couldn’t find no socials, no profiles, no trace... just a phone number. I kept it tucked away, waiting for the right time.
But it wasn’t just her. I linked up with some girls I met when I was down in Southwave last summer. We swapped stories, gossip, and secrets they thought I couldn’t handle.
That’s when I heard the name.Hurricane.They told me Mula had been in the wind ever since his right-hand man, Hurricane, got dropped. Mula killed him—that was the word floating through their streets.
So all these months, he had been hiding, and he thought I wasn’t going to find out. Nigga, please. There was no way a nigga as laying up with a female he no longer wanted to fuck, just because.
I sat in my car, engine off, AC low, watching the Maybach pull off slow. I gripped the steering wheel tight, my nails digging intothe leather. Mula was leaving without telling me. I wasn’t mad. Not all the way. I had a plan.
Mula couldn’t stop me from being in his space. Soon, I’d be visiting Southwave.Real soon.
I had my eyes on somebody else, too... somebody I met online after one of the girls said his name, too. Mula thought his coast was clear, but he was going back home to a warzone still.
Funny how shit circles back around, huh?
I watched the Maybach fade into the distance, the taillights blurring into the early morning haze. I started my engine, lips curling into a slow, dark smile.
Let the games begin.
MY HEARTBEAT
I wasfresh off a flight from Starlight Hills at nine in the evening. It felt good to be back in Sable Cove a summer later after lying low, and I had only touched down a millisecond prior. I walked to the blacked-out Rolls-Royce waiting for me on therunway. It was a usual hot night, so I got in the back of the car and enjoyed the air conditioner.
I sat back and closed my eyes on the short ride to my warehouse, where my car was waiting for me with Tory. I wanted Southwave to welcome me back, but I needed to see Yummi. Tory already told me she was still up in Prince Valley and hadn’t been to the city. He also told me he saw Yummi, and she looked pregnant. Then recently, she had a baby at the crib, and it might be mine. I thought dude was talking crazy, but now I was anxious to know what she had going on.
When I got to my warehouse, everything was still intact. All my guns, all my shipments were counted for. Tory and Yummi had been holding it down. I dapped him up, paid him a few stacks, and then walked to my truck that I missed like a muthafucka. My heart raced as I got in the driver’s seat of my Bentley truck.
I took the long drive to Prince Valley, smoking and thinking. I hoped Yummi hadn’t did the unthinkable and pushed a nigga out of her personal life and I hoped she was still wearing my ring. Even if there was a baby, that didn’t mean she wanted me.
When I got there, Marques was still working. I rolled the window down because he was holding a shotgun at the gate.
“My nigga, Mula Wave. Welcome back. You had a nigga worried.” He dapped me up through the window.
“I know, man. Shit got hectic on my end.. But I heard y'all took care of the streets, and that’s why I’m back.”
“We ain’t lost a soul either. Everybody is still in one piece. After you see ya lady tho’, I wanna get with you.”
“Fasho… It’ll have to be tomorrow or the day after because I’m locked in tonight. I’ma take care of you. I know I owe you a lot of cash.”
“A’ight, man. Yummi been taking care of the tab, but get with me, and congrats.” He nodded his head and grinned at me.
“Fasho.” I looked at him awkwardly, because damn, it must be a baby in the house with her. That had to be why he was saying congrats.
I pulled up to her door, and I stepped out with my carry-on bag. I sighed deeply before walking up the pathway. I rang the doorbell after I tried my key fob on the front door, and it didn’t work. Yummi must have changed the code, and that was cool since I wasn’t around. Whatever made her feel safe. I stood there for a minute, and then it finally opened by itself. I had forgotten I had installed touch of a button doors.
When we locked eyes, I felt at ease looking at her naturally beautiful face. She had her hair in a high straight ponytail, and was wearing a long nightgown, but what had my attention was the baby she had in her arms. He was dressed in a blue Gucci onesie and matching socks. He had a little blue beanie on his head and a big blue binky in his mouth.
“What’s up, Yummi? Are you gon’ let a nigga in or just stare at me?” I asked as I glared at the lil one in her arms. “Whose baby is that, Solace’s?”
“I’m sorry… I’m just shocked to see you since it’s been so long with no contact. This is your son, Lameek, not Solace’s. I named him Coast Wave.”
