Page 16 of Own It

The betrayal from LaMia was too great for me to voluntarily venture into another relationship. I’d loved her with everything I had and even caught a murder charge for her and would’ve done it again if another man had the audacity to disrespect her. And knowing I went above and beyond for a woman, just for her to turn around and leave me for my own brother, had me against relationships of that nature.

I was an all-in or all-out type nigga, and it was best I stay out of that type shit.

At the moment, I entertained women to get my needs met and nothing more. A date here, some fucking there, or even just conversation, but putting my heart on the line would never happen again.

I didn’t toy with them or make them believe things were headed in a direction they would never enter. I kept shit real, letting them decide if they wanted to waste or enjoy their time, depending on how they saw things. Some passed, while others basked in the experience, and so far, I hadn’t had any issues out of them.

Additionally, I made it very fucking clear that I wouldn’t tolerate any woman scorned behavior of any kind. I had too much shit going on to be dealing with a dizzy ass female plotting, scheming, and doing the most over dick.

As far as Ayan, I never trusted him. How could I trust a brother that harbored such jealousy and for no real reason other than a nigga existing? I wasn’t surprised that Ayan had set out to bag LaMia, but I wasn’t gon’ lie… I was shocked that she fell for the shit—took the bait. In the past, I’d set her to a higher standard, and it was frightening to know I’d made such an egregious mistake.

For a while, I stayed to myself because of that, seeing my judgment of women was slightly skewed, but now I paid a little more attention, read into things more often, and cut things off at the bud no matter how pretty she was or how fat her ass was.

“I know that. I doubt you been out here dry dicking it, nigga. I’m just saying, find you somebody. Shit is cool now ’cause you healthy and you good, but take it from me, Rah; when times get hard, it feels even harder when you ain’t got nobody,” Talid expressed, eyes parked on mine. “Don’t let Ayan’s disloyal ass have all the fun.”

I chuckled.

My twin brother and I were never the closest, but now we were estranged or as estranged as fraternal twins with other mutual siblings and family members could be. I had stopped giving a fuck about LaMia and Ayan being together, so I was able to be cordial, but there was no brotherhood like what I had with Talid, Josias, and Zaire.

“Ayan the only one in competition, nigga. I’m just doing me.”

Talid nodded to my statement. He grew up with us due to our mother’s being joined at the hip—when my father allowed it or was away—and knew how true my fucking words were.

LATER THAT NIGHT . . . AROUND MIDNIGHT . . .

My phone buzzed as I sat in the den of my crib, pondering on Talid’s request. On one hand, I couldn’t imagine running this shit without him, but at the same time, Talid had been so sickly lately that I, in fact, was running this shit alone.

“Hello?” I sat upright on the couch after seeing Shardaya’s name on the screen.

Though I was up, too distressed to get any real sleep, these were odd ass hours for her to be hitting my line.

“Hey.” She sniffled. “I just wanted to call and update you. He went into a coma and⁠—”

“When?” My brows furrowed. I was just talking to Talid some hours ago, and though he looked bad and even stated how indisposed he’d felt, my faith wouldn’t let me believe that shit.

“Like an hour ago. He got rushed to the hospital which is where I am now. I wanted to call as soon as it happened but⁠—”

“Calm down, Shar, it’s straight.” I exhaled, leg bouncing in anxiety. I’d already lost my mother; I couldn’t lose Talid. Messed up as it was, I would rather lose Ayan’s ass. “I umm, I thought shit was good though. I know he was feeling bad, but last I checked, he was improving.”

“He was and was supposed to have some tumors removed but—” She inhaled heavily while I remained silent, giving her time—“but that got pushed back. The other doctors tried to tell the surgeon he shouldn’t reschedule, but he refused.”

Shardaya’s words infuriated me, causing me to grip the phone tightly.

“Rescheduled for fucking what? Who is this nigga?” I questioned harshly, knowing Shardaya wouldn’t take the shit personally.

“Vacation,” she blubbered, becoming more and more beside herself as the conversation went on. “It’s Dr. Cairo Conrad, the neurosurgeon. He said it was important business, but one of the nurses we’ve become close with told us he was going on vacation with his wife.”

That information hit a nigga like a boulder to the fucking chest. The fact that a doctor who would prioritize vacation over a life-or-death surgery was running the show when it came to Talid had me stressed and full of fucking fury.

Doctors were supposed to be trustworthy muthafuckas, yet this one my cousin had been assigned to felt that kicking his feet up or dipping his toes in the fucking sand took precedence over Talid’s life. I was a lot of fucking things at the moment, but enraged was at the top of the list.

“Aight. Keep me updated,” was all I said before ending the call.

A loud thump startled me from my seated position, making me snatch my gun up from the coffee table on the way to my feet.

Going out, I trailed the sound into the kitchen where I found my younger brothers, Zaire and Josias. The former was seated at the semi-circle booth, passed out most likely from whatever fucking pill he’d popped, while Josias raided the fridge. When he dropped a soda can to the floor, I surmised that Josias’s clumsiness was what I’d heard from the den.

“Man, you ain’t got the cream soda Dr. Pepper?” Josias slurred, obviously soused. Lipstick stains decorated his neck and the collar of his shirt, making me shake my head at his disheveled ass appearance and community dick.