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The Gangsta That Stole My Heart 2 Page 13
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Carter sucked on his tiny fist without a care in the world. Even before the DNA test confirmed he was mine, I knew it. All my kids seemed to favor each other a hell of a lot, even though they had different mamas.
“I was ’bout to order a pizza. You got any requests?” She started the process of changing my boy. “I’ma get some wings, too.”
Shaking my head, I dug into my pocket for my phone. “Nah, I’m ’bout to head out in a little bit.”
I had a text from an unknown number, and one from Chase.
Nisha smacked her lips. “Yo’ ass stay gone. It’s like you don’t even care that we here.”
Unlocking my phone, I opened the message from my son first.
Young bull: Dad can you pick me up tomorrow so I can spend the weekend
Me: Yeah
“I need to go get my nails done. I’m down bad out here,” Nisha complained. “Can I have some money to go to the nail salon tomorrow?”
“I ain’t got no money.”
I opened the message from the unknown number, and a picture loaded, and it was one of Chance lying in bed on her side, naked. I tilted my head in confusion and stared at the picture for a minute. She was asleep, and there was a hand on her stomach. Whoever had taken the picture had to be sitting up in front of her to get the angle.
Popping my neck, I exited out of the message.
“Did you hear me?” Nisha asked, buttoning Carter’s Nike onesie. “We should take some pictures of Carter this weekend.”
Scratching my head, I looked over at her. “I already told you I was waiting until my daughter was born.” That way, I could get all of my babies in one photo.
She sighed. “He’s been here almost two months, and we don’t have any professional pictures of him besides the ones from the hospital.” Nisha picked him up.
Ignoring her, I headed for my room. Climbing the stairs, I called Chance. When I reached the landing, she answered.
“Hello?”
I stayed quiet, trying to come up with the right thing to say as I continued to my room.
“True?” she said. “Everything all right?”
I shut my bedroom door, then went to take a seat on the bed.
“Hello? True?”
Hanging my head, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“True, you’re scaring me.” I heard the panic in her voice.
I looked up at the flat screen on my wall. “You fucked that nigga while you pregnant wit’ my daughter?”
The line went silent.
“What are you talking about?” she sighed.
“Answer my fuckin’ question, and if you lie… Yo, Chance, I swear on my dead homies...” I wanted to choke the life out of her.
“We didn’t have sex.”
I chuckled.
“I’m serious.” Her voice went up an octave. “We didn’t have sex, True.”
“So, what? He eat yo’ pussy?”
“No, True.”
I nodded.
“So, you was just ass naked, laid up with a nigga, and he didn’t fuck?” Chance knew I wasn’t a simp-ass nigga, so I didn’t understand why she was playing with me.
“He...he...” she sighed. “He fingered me.”
I rubbed my chin. “Ah, yeah?”
A nigga’s pride was crushed, knowing some other cat had dug up in her pussy. Knowing he had seen her naked, rubbed her belly, kissed on her. My body started overheating, so I pulled my shirt over my head.
“True...”
I massaged the bridge of my nose.
“We didn’t have sex. I would never do that carrying Carlee.”
I shook my head.
Lying-ass bitch.
“Yo, Chance...” I clenched my jaws. “I better not see that nigga again. I swear on my kids, I’m killing his ass if I do.”
She sniffled.
“The fuck you crying for?” I frowned. “You the one fucking a nigga while you carrying my baby. Got this hoe-ass nigga sending me pictures of you naked, rubbing on your stomach and shit!”
“We didn’t have sex!” she cried. “All he did was finger me. And I don’t know why he would send you a picture. It happened days ago.”
I banged on her.
“What you in here yelling for?” Nisha opened the door with Carter in her arms.
“Not right now, Ni, leave me alone.”
She sucked her teeth. “Well, my homegirls are trying to go out to eat and have drinks. Can you watch Carter for a few hours?”
I massaged my forehead. “Didn’t I tell you I was about to go?” Looking up at her, I gave her a hard glare. “Sit yo’ ass down somewhere and be a mama to your son. Them bitches ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
“I have a life outside of being a mama, just like you have one outside of being a daddy!” she yelled, making my son jump, causing him to cry.
“Yo, bring me my shorty and get the fuck on.” I stood up.
She rocked him. “So, now you mad at me?”
“Give me my son.” I wasn’t even in the mood to go anywhere anymore.
She handed him over with an attitude. “How you mad at me for wanting to hang with my friends, True? I’m a mama, not dead. Quindelle and Jaliyah get to go out whenever they want.”
Going back to the bed, I sat down. “Take yo’ ass on. I got him. Quindelle and Jaliyah got kids in school, not a new baby.”
“Why you trying to make me feel bad?”
My phone went off. Adjusting Carter in my arms, I answered. Nisha stormed out, talking shit.
“What, Chance?”
She sniffled. “I don’t know why he would do that. He won’t even answer the phone.”
“That’s your problem, shorty. You the crash dummy who was fuckin’ wit’ that chump.” I knew I was talking reckless, and I knew once I calmed down, I’d regret it, but Chance had me fucked up.
“You know what, True. I don’t even know why I care! I should’ve fucked him!” she screamed.
“Ah, yeah?”
She cried.
Looking down at Carter, I took a deep breath. He stared back at me, trying his hardest to keep his slanted eyes open.
“I didn’t sleep with him,” she sniffled. “And I’m embarrassed that he would take a picture of me and send it to you. Now he won’t answer, and he has nudes of me that I didn’t even know about in his phone.”
I shook my head. I was killing that nigga on sight. That was a bitch move he had pulled. I wasn’t even going to bother calling him. Chance continued crying, and Nisha stepped into the room, fully dressed. The tight-ass one piece she had on fit her like a glove.
“I’m out.” She leaned against the door jamb.
“A’ight.” I stared back down at Carter.
“He has a bottle prepared already. I shouldn’t be gone that long.”
I nodded.
“Bye, baby!” Her loud ass blew a kiss from the door, waking Carter up.
“So, you can sleep with other people, but I can’t?” Chance chuckled.
“You pregnant, it’s different.”
“No, you’re just selfish, but that ain’t nothing new. I didn’t have sex with him, and I think we should just go back to only speaking when it involves our daughter.”
And just like that, we were back at square one.
“It’s whatever, shorty.” I wasn’t about to keep kissing her ass.
She hung up in my face, and I tossed my phone to the side of me. Looking down at my boy, he was knocked. Standing up, I carried him to his room. I was about to get a new lineup of bitches. My old ones were burnt the fuck out.
16
All that history…all that’s history
Chance
“Okay, so I’m thinking, instead of doing a traditional pink, we could do yellow?” my auntie, Roxanne, asked.
My mom nodded. “Oooh, yeah, I like that. Let’s do yellow, silver, glitter, and white. Maybe throw in some orange?”
I frowned.
Morgan laughed. “I love you and all, Ms. S
onia, but no.”
“No, scratch the orange.” My mom shook her head. “I can’t wait. We only have a few more months until our princess comes, so this has to be perfect.”
“Right. Her little butt is gon’ be so cute.”
“I know,” my mom cooed.
Grabbing my phone, I took a deep breath. “I don’t want a baby shower.”
Morgan spun around dramatically to look at me. “Bitch, what?”
“Morgan...” my mom said sternly.
“My fault, but she tripping. Them hormones been on ten all damn day.”
Auntie Roxanne rubbed my arm. “You hungry, baby?”
“No,” I mumbled, clicking on the Facebook app. “I just don’t want a baby shower, damn.”
Morgan chuckled. “Oh, she mad.”
I rolled my eyes. I wasn’t mad, I wasn’t hungry, and I didn’t want a baby shower. I just wanted to be left the hell alone.
“Chance Breon...”
I looked up at my mama. “What?”
“Don’t what me. What in the world is your problem? We’re trying to do something nice and thoughtful for you, and you’re acting like a diva.” She folded her arms.
“I didn’t ask you to do this.” My eyes roamed the table full of items they were choosing from.
My mommy’s mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?”
I pushed away from the table. Standing up, I made my way towards the house and pulled the patio door open. Not bothering to shut it, I stormed inside and rushed to the bathroom. Once inside, I closed the door and sat on top of the furry commode. Slumping over, I dropped my face into my hands.
Tears slid down my cheeks as I released built-up frustration. I cried quietly, not even fully understanding my sudden breakdown. I should’ve been happy. Carlee would be here soon, my mom and best friend were planning my baby shower, and her room at home was completely finished.
Maybe I was being ungrateful. There were pregnant women going through way more, and I was in the bathroom, throwing a tantrum. I chuckled lightly, grabbing some toilet paper.
Get it together, Chance Breon.
“Chance?” Morgan knocked on the door.
I wiped my face and sat up. “Yeah?”
“Are you taking a shit? Is that why you trippin’? ’Cause your stomach was hurting?”
I laughed. “No, Morgan.”
“Well, can I come in?”
“Yes,” I chuckled.
The door opened, and Morgan stepped in. “What the hell is wrong with you? You know your mama is sensitive as hell. She out there, all in her feelings and shit.”
I grimaced.
“What’s going on?”
“I’m just emotional, I guess.”
“Well, duh,” she smiled, hopping up on the counter. “Your ass is dramatic as hell. Hopped up, ran in the house, and shut yourself in the bathroom to cry.”
“Shut up,” I giggled, blowing my nose.
“No, but all jokes aside, what’s the matter?”
“I hate men.”
She laughed. “Girl, don’t we all? Ain’t none of them worth a damn. You see my situation. I held that hoe-ass nigga down for years, okay, and that nigga stressed me the entire time.”
I sighed. “I know.”
“And my dumb ass still fucks him from time to time.”
I glanced in her direction, and she shrugged.
“So, this is about True?”
Shaking my head, I grabbed some more toilet paper off the roll. “True, Haze, Rel... all of them.”
Morgan looked confused. “Rel and Haze, too?”
I nodded. “Rel is a damn nut case. He needs to talk to a professional.”
Morgan laughed. “What the hell did he do? I remember you telling me he kept calling and texting.”
“Yeah, and when we met up, he asked me to marry him.”
“Bitch, I know you fuckin’ lyin’!” she cackled.
Blowing my nose again, I rolled my eyes. “I wish I was. Girl, I got the hell up out of there. He chased after me, grabbing my arm and shit.”
Morgan hopped down. “Oh, hell nah! Did you tell True?”
“No.”
“Why the fuck not, Chance?!”
I shrugged.
“See, now you playin’,” she grilled me.
“Then I let Haze finger me.”
“Ah, shit!” Morgan danced. “Did he eat it, too?”
“No.” I tossed my head back. “We washed off, got in the shower, then I went to sleep naked. Why did his ass take a picture and send it to True?”
Morgan’s eyes grew. “Bitch!”
“Yep.”
“I know True’s crazy ass had a mouthful to say.”
“He called me a crash dummy.” My vision blurred. “And when I told him I tried calling Haze, but he ignored my call, he said it was my fault.” A lone tear slipped from my left eye.
“Aw, best friend.” Morgan rubbed my back. “Fuck these niggas. Let’s go pop out. It’s the weekend. You remember Sawyer from around the way? The one with the freckles.”
I sniffled. “Yeah, with all the kids.”
“Um-hm. Well, you know she gets all them damn food stamps, so she went and bought a bunch of meat and shit to barbeque. It started an hour or two ago, but you know how they do it in the hood. Let’s go.”
Looking down at my tummy, I rolled my eyes. “Morg, I look like I’m about to pop.”
“You look cute, stop.”
I looked down at my outfit. It was hard putting together an outfit when nothing looked right to me anymore. Today, I’d decided on red, tight spandex biker shorts, a white, off-the-shoulder bodysuit, and a pair of platform checkered Vans. Morgan had done my hair a few days ago, but since it was hot, I simply pulled it up into a loose bun. The letters in my bamboo earrings spelled ‘Carlee’.
“Come on, Chance. Let’s show these bitches we ain’t fell off over no nigga.”
I laughed.
“I’m serious. So, get your crybaby ass up and let’s go.”
Standing up, I fixed my shirt. “Let me apologize to my mommy first.”
“What I tell you?” Morgan switched next to me. “The niggas is out. I might find me a new husband in this bitch.”
I only shook my head because I could’ve sworn no less than an hour ago, she had said they weren’t shit.
“Let’s go get something to drink.” I took off. “And a hotdog.”
Loud music blasted as we made our way through the crowd. Little kids ran around with water guns, females were twerking, trying to be seen, and dudes were posted up, either shooting dice or playing dominos. It was hype. We made it to the refreshment table, and I grabbed a plate, a bag of chips, and a pop from the cooler. I left Morgan to gossip with some chicks she knew as I went to the grill.
“What you want, mama?” the older man at the grill, who reminded me of Bernie Mac, asked.
“Can I get a bratwurst?”
“You can have whatever you like, little lady,” he smiled, grabbing my request with a fork. “Anything else? It’s plenty of food to go around.”
“Thank you, this is all.”
“A’ight.” He grabbed a can of beer and continued grilling.
Going back to the table since I had forgotten a hotdog bun and napkins, I noticed Morgan was posted up with Drake.
Oh, Lord...
Grabbing what I needed from the table, I sighed. Drake being here meant one of two things: True was nearby or he was on his way. Their entire crew was feared, but a lot of people hated them, so when it came to parties and things like this, they usually stayed close to each other.
After dressing my bratwurst and taking a big bite, I headed in their direction.
“What you doin’ out here?” Drake grinned when I approached them. “True know you slumming wit’ his li’l mama in you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Nope.”
He nodded, still grinning, the bottom grill in his mouth shining brightly.
Is that like their crew signature o
r something?
Drake was fine as hell, and he knew it. He and Erica had something going on, but they wouldn’t put a label on it. I wasn’t sure if Morgan knew or cared, but she was cheesing hard at the attention she was receiving from him.
“Ah, yeah?” He tilted his head with a playful look in his eyes. “He bouta find out.”
I frowned.
Drake spun around, cuffed his hands around his mouth, and hollered, “True! Aye, nigga, Chance over here tryna be cute!”
Morgan laughed, and I shot her a look. My gaze shifted towards the crowd, and just a few steps away stood True Jones. All he had on was a white shirt, jeans, and a pair Jordan 12’s, but he looked oh so edible. The handle of his gun stuck out noticeably, making him look even more threatening than he usually did. Topping that off with all the ink covering his body, True had me wanting to jump into his big arms and kiss all over him.
He swaggered in our direction, and as usual, he had a Styrofoam cup in his hand. When he got to where we were, he looked down at me and took a drink. He eyed me from head to toe, then True licked his lips.
“Why you got my jellybean out here, Chance?”
True
Chance rolled her eyes at me, then took a bite of her hotdog, unbothered.
“What you doin’ out here, Chance Breon?” I took a drink from my cup.
Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she opened her pop and took a drink.
“You good?” Drake tapped my arm.
I nodded, still looking down at Chance. “Yeah, we straight.”
He walked off with that whore, Morgan, and I shook my head.
“Morgan!” Chance called out, but she kept walking. “I’ma kick her ass.”
“You don’t hear me talkin’ to you?” I licked my lips, then fixed the chains around my neck.
She sighed. “You’re here. Your other baby mama is here. I spotted Jaliyah twice.”
“I don’t give a fuck about all that. You pregnant, and you putting my shorty in danger.”
Chance opened her chips, then took one out. Crunching down on it, she looked around.
I’ma fuck her up.