Page 203 of Own It

Smirking I said, “Until she sees I’m pregnant by another man that is.”

“Nah. She not like that.” He took my hand, kissing it and I couldn’t deny the warmth that engulfed me.

I fell against the couch in deep thought about what I’d just learned. Mylo’s big hand falling upon my belly snapped me out of my trance.

“It’s a girl,” I uttered, smiling as I sat back upright. “Gonna name her Zaria Godfrey.”

“I like that.” Mylo smirked, caressing my stomach slowly.

We made eye contact, and moments later, our mouths were fused together. I told myself that I would rid my mind and heart of Mylo, especially while pregnant, but it had proven to be an abortive attempt.

And just like the last time, our kissing quickly graduated to lovemaking, only this time after we experienced our orgasm, we lay there together, cuddled up and basking in the euphoric state we’d placed one another in.

TWENTY-SEVEN

rakim

Pulling down the darkened alley of Inglewood in this black on black ’85 Benz 500, I slowed up once I was in front of the duo that often sold heroin in the area. My tint was dark, making the niggas glance at each other, I assumed trying to decide who would approach and hopefully serve me.

“Aye, what you need?” The nigga, Donald, who’d nicknamed Téa a ho at the promenade queried, bundled up in the hoodie that aided him in braving the cold LA nights so he could make his bread.

I enjoyed the fact that niggas had no idea I was supplying their boss’s boss. I’d sent Josias to convince him to collude with us in order to make sure Mylo got out and scot-free, so he still had no idea who I was.

“I ain’t sure,” I said, pulling my heat out on the low. “But I suggest you watch who you go around calling hos, nigga.”

“Huh? Nigga, get the fuck from ’round here with that bullshit! Come back when you know what you want and ain’t speaking in circles!” he barked, not realizing those would be his last words.

Before he could pull his long-faced ass from my window, I put three bullets in it, sending his homeboy running down the alley as Donald’s body dropped, mug unrecognizable.

Flooring the gas, I chased his boy down the alley and caught up to him instantly despite his head start. The loud screech of my brakes would be made up for by the silencer attached to my gun, as I reached that shit out and blew his face off just as I’d done his counterpart.

His body fell, face just as mutilated judging by the image of him in my side mirrors, so I pulled off as if it was a regular old fucking day, and in a sense, it was.

* * *

“My bad. I ain’t know you was dropping by.” Josias scratched his head in a sort of disoriented way as he walked off, allowing me inside his home.

I trailed him, frowning at the loud ass stench of marijuana that had engulfed his foyer, so I knew he’d been smoking that shit all over the home, which was alarming.

Josias put his kids first in everything he did, down to smoking. And his whip plus home were two places he didn’t smoke in, not wanting the smell to permeate the air whenever his kids came through.

“Nigga, you been hotboxing for a week or some shit?” I asked as I stepped down into his den, watching him toss blankets around as he searched for something.

“Nah, but I have been smoking a lot.” He located his phone, tapped it to check the screen, then sat down, finally looking over at me. “I ain’t get no message from you, so what’s up?”

Sighing, I walked to the bar and said, “Come have a drink with me.”

“I’m high enough, nigga, as you can smell.” He chuckled, eyes barely open.

“Come have a drink.” I kept a stoic expression, causing Josias’s smile to falter before he ascended and stalked to the bar where I was.

Reaching over it, he retrieved a bottle of dark Don Julio and two glasses before filling them halfway.

“Aight. What’s so bad that I need to be crossfaded, Rah?” He took a sip, tucking his lips at the strong taste.

“I found out what happened to Zaire for real,” I said, and Josias froze.

“Fuck.” He ran his hands down his face. “Don’t tell me.”