“Take a left here,” I instruct, pointing at the street ahead.
No sooner than we turn on the street, we see media vans out front of the building where Angelique lives. My gut clenches, and fear rolls through me.
“The fuck. You trying to set me up or something?”
“What? No! This isn’t about you. Oh my God, nooo.”
“You think they’re here for you?”
“I don’t know, but I’m not interested in finding out the wrong way. I have to get my kid.”
“I’ve got a plan. Hurry up and climb your ass in the back seat. There’s a blanket back there. Throw it on over you.”
“Have you been screwing on that blanket, Chaos?”
“What? Hell no. Do what I say. We’re about to be there any second.”
I take a tumble into the back seat, trying to hurry up. I grab the blanket that he indicated, and it smells like motor oil and mothballs. I want to throw up, but I don’t. My heart pounds rapidly in my chest as I feel the truck continuing to move down the street.
“All right, you’re in the clear,” he states after a minute.
I slowly peer up. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I drove a block over. I’m about to park on this street, and we’ll have to enter the building from behind. Are you too good to walk through the woods?”
“No.” I remain in the back seat, not wanting to risk falling again.
“A’ight. We gotta be quick and stealthy. I’ll bring the truck closer once I’m certain that we’re safe,” he explains as he pulls the truck to a stop.
As we race through the woods, the only thing that I can think about is that escaping Chaos has been made that much harder by all those media trucks in front of Angelique’s place.
Charisma’s little ass thinks she’s slick. I can tell by her distracted answers that her mind is on something else. The only thing that can be is how she’s going to get away from me with my son. She got me fucked up if she thinks I’m about to let that happen.
I follow her up the back of the steps, taking in the smooth curve of her ass in the sundress that she’s wearing, and her shapely calves. Her hair has grown longer and her curves more rounded since I saw her last.
She was always a slim girl, but even with her weight gain, she’s still on the slim side. I’m willing to bet she’s no more than a buck and a quarter. She’s nine inches shorter than me with beautiful caramel-colored skin. Her oval-shaped face is rounder than it used to be now that she’s picked up a little weight.
When she glances back at me over her shoulder after she rings the bell, I can see the fear in her upturned, russet-brown eyes. She gives me a nervous smile, and that slight overbite underneath her full, heart-shaped lips tugs at my heart the way it always did. Whenever she would smile at me like that, I would mush her little button nose in.
“When did you get that?” I ask as she presses the doorbell again.
“What?”
“That,” I reply, pointing at the cobra tattoo on her upper right arm.
She glances at it and places her hand over it. Clearing her throat, she replies, “Not long after you left.”
I had jokingly given her the nickname Venom back then. I wanted her to become my old lady, but she wasn’t interested in anything to do with the MC. She asked why I would call her that because it was a mean name rather than a term of endearment. I told her that she was the sweetest person I ever met, but when crossed up, her ass could become as bitter and poisonous as venom.
The door finally opens, and a short, light-skinned woman with brownish-blonde dreads and wide hips smiles brightly at Charisma.
“Girl, where have you been? I’ve been calling you since last night. You were supposed to be back by two, and then tonight, I see you on TV. What happened? You’re all over the news as a person of interest in the assault and battery case of Emmanuel Tennison. What the hell is going on? I had to call out of work today.”
Damn, that was fast. If she just woke up with that nigga this evening and they already have her picture circulating on the nightly news, this smells like a setup. Someone knew she was meeting with him, knew the assault would happen, and knewwhere her babysitter lived. I didn’t like any of this shit, and I knew we had to dip before any other “coincidences” happened.
“It’s a long story, Ang, and I promise that I’ll tell you later. I’m so sorry that I didn’t make it back. I don’t have time to tell you now, but I have to get CJ and leave.”
I need to get her phone because I don’t have plans on her telling anyone shit until I figure out what’s going on, especially knowing my seed is involved. I’ll be damned if I risk his life. The world that I come from says trust no muthafucka, babysitters included.
