Page 33 of Mia

“Titan?”

“Yeah?”

“Did the bullet hit her?”

“No, but the impact was too traumatic for her to survive.”

“I fucked up so bad,” I whispered.

“We both fucked up. This isn’t just on you. I should have said something to put a stop to all this before it got this far.”

I shook my head. “Our daughter is gone, Titan. I can’t forgive myself for that.”

“You will, in time.”

My hand went to my stomach. “I feel so empty. She was just here and now… she’s gone. I felt the first flutter last week. I won’t feel that ever again.”

I couldn’t help but cry again. All the time I had to bond with her, I should have valued it more. I should have spoken to her more, sang to her. I should have loved her more because now, I couldn’t love on her at all.

“We have to name her,” I whispered. “And it has to mean something.”

Titan was quiet for a while before finally speaking.

“I was thinking Eden… it means paradise or delight.”

I thought for a moment. “Eden Amani DeLuca.”

He kissed my forehead. “Our baby girl.”

I settled into his arms and closed my eyes. If it was the last thing I did, JacQues Dupont was going to die a most violent death.

TWO WEEKS LATER

Itook a deep breath as I knocked softly against Mia’s bedroom door. We’d been back home for a couple of days now and things had really been quiet. After the shooting, we had gone mostly underground. The house was wiped clean. Cars were hidden. Everybody was laying low. Senior had to call in to his contacts to get the cops off our ass. The only leads they had were the niggas that survived running into that pole.

Of course, they weren’t talking or giving up JacQues. Niggas would rather do time than end up in a grave. It killed me to leave that city knowing that muthafucka was walking around like he wasn’t gonna be touched. He had me and life all the way fucked up if he thought that was ever going to be the case. He tried to kill my wife and ended up taking my baby… my fucking daughter.

I was getting that shit back in blood.

When I didn’t hear Mia on the other side of the door, I twisted the knob and pushed it open. She was laying in the middle of the bed with the covers up to her neck staring at the wall. For days now, this is where she’d been, just like this. She barely slept. She wouldn’t eat. She hadn’t spoken a word. It was like once she left the hospital, she shut down, knowing she didn’t have to appease them anymore to be released.

Grief was kicking both our asses. I had to be the strong one, and it was killing me. My chest was tight. I couldn’t sleep and when I did sleep, I had the same recurring dream. All I heard were the gunshots, and all I saw was the amount of blood she lost before we got her to the hospital. Once they got the baby out, she coded three times, and I thanked the Lord they were able to bring her back each time.

Today was the memorial for our daughter.

Mia was so deep in her depressive state she didn’t even want to go. Ms. Maddie convinced her to come, however. She told her she would regret not saying goodbye. I’d been up since four a.m. I made myself a cup of coffee, smoked a blunt, and had a good cry on the back porch.

“Mia,” I said softly. “We have to get you up and ready.”

She peered over at me in silence before looking back at the same spot on the wall. I walked over and pulled back the curtains, allowing the sunlight to filter through the blinds. She immediately covered her head with the covers. I took a seat beside her and pulled them off.

“Baby.”

She shook her head no. “I can’t,” she whispered.

“You have to. We have to lay her to rest.”

Her lip trembled. “I just wanna die…”