Turned Out by His Hood Mentality 2 Page 2

  “Hey,” I answered.

  “What did those bitches say to you? Why did you run off?” she asked.

  I could hear the loud music in her background, so she was more than likely still at the party.

  “Nothing that I feel like talking about right now. I had just relaxed after getting into it with them, and then when I got home, my dad was here, and we exchanged words. So, it isn’t anything that I want to talk about right now. Is the party still going on? Where is your cousin?” I just asked because it was the first thing I wanted to ask once I answered the phone for her.

  “Yes. I’m getting ready to leave, though. I heard one of Billionaire’s friends say that Monterius is on the way, so I’m heading out. I cannot force myself to be around that nigga. I’m liable to pick up one of these bottles off the table and crack his head open. My mama said that she saw Billionaire outside chasing behind you, so he’s probably still out there. Knowing him, he’s out there smoking, but hold on, let me see. I’m almost to the door,” she said.

  Suddenly, the music stopped playing, which let me know that she had made it outside.

  “Oh, my God! What the fuck! Billion!” I heard Twinkle scream, which had me panicking because I didn’t know what was going on.

  “Twinkle! What!? What happened?” I screamed in her ear.

  “He’s out here choking Denim. I’ll call you right back. Let me get to him before he kills that girl,” she said.

  “Wait! Don’t hang up!” I said, but it was too late. She had hung up the phone.

  “Bitch, what the fuck did you just say?” I barked, scaring the shit out of Denim’s ass.

  I know I did because I saw her jump. I was right up on her. So fuckin’ close that my dick was damn near poking her ass. I needed to be this close because if she repeated the shit that I thought she said, I would have enough room to choke this bitch out, throw her in the back of her trunk, and dispose of her ass. Drunk or not, I needed her to repeat what the fuck she just said. I felt my body shaking. I mean, I was shaking to the point that I was sweating, and the sweat was getting in my eyes.

  In just a matter of minutes, I went from having the best tasting pussy juices in my mouth to suddenly having a foul taste as I heard Denim’s words repeatedly playing in my head. As I stood behind my baby mama, I felt like I was standing behind an enemy whose life I was getting ready to end. If I killed Denim, it wouldn’t be my first body. If I ever killed before in my life, it was because of some foul, fucked up shit that has been done to me. If Denim repeated herself, she would fit the description perfectly of doing some foul, fucked up shit.

  “Get the fuck from behind me, Billionaire! Go harass that bitch and leave me the fuck alo—”

  I shut her up instantly because both my hands were around her neck. I flipped her ass, throwing her in the trunk of her car but never letting go of her neck. Her long nails were digging into my face, trying to get me to let go, but I wouldn’t.

  “This ain’t got shit to do with my bitch! This got everything to do with you and what the fuck you just said! You may have some liquor in you, but that don’t make you stupid! I heard what you said, and I need you to repeat it! Is Khari mine, or does she belong to that nigga?” I spat with hurt and anger evident in my voice as I thought about that beautiful ass little girl at the party, who was playing and dancing with all her other little cousins.

  If Denim told me that Khari wasn’t mine, it would hurt me before it angered me. My kids were my fuckin’ life. A nigga came home from prison, and I had been moving so fuckin’ different since my feet hit the pavement. I’m trying to give my kids some shit to look up to, especially my son, because I ain’t want him to have to hustle like I did. For it to even be a chance that Khari didn’t belong to me, that shit fucked with me so bad that a tear did fall from my eye, and I didn’t even bother to wipe it away.

  Denim’s eyes rolled like I was losing her, so I let go because I couldn’t kill her before I found out the truth. I let go, and she started coughing.

  “Answer me, Denim! You know me! You know when I’m angry, nothing fuckin’ matters, yo! I don’t give a fuck about shit right now! All I need you to do is to repeat what the fuck you just said. That way, I don’t fuck around and kill yo’ black ass by accident!” I spat.

  “I… I was… I was just talking. I ssss.. said that out of anger,” she said, but I didn’t believe her.

  I dragged her ass up by the front of the dress she was wearing. Once she was up, I slammed the trunk closed and shoved her body into the back of the car. With her in the trunk and me standing outside of it, I felt like we were too far apart. I needed to be all up in this bitch’s personal space because I needed her to feel me and know that I wasn’t fuckin’ around.

  “Look me in my fuckin’ eyes right now and tell me that Khari is my daughter,” I said with my hand around her neck, but I wasn’t squeezing.

  Her answer would determine if I would continue to apply pressure or not. She never answered my question. She just burst into tears, which told me everything I needed to know. I blacked out. At this moment, I no longer saw Denim as the woman who carried a beautiful ass little girl for me. I saw a fuckin’ enemy. I saw a fuckin’ fraud ass bitch, and I was trying to rid her of her air plug, so I could kill this bitch.

  “Billion! No! No! What the fuck are you doing! Your kids are in there, asshole! Stop it, Billion!” I felt Twinkle behind me, trying to pry me off her, but it wasn’t working.

  Twinkle was only trying to stop me because she didn’t know what the fuck was going on. If she knew the real reason I was trying to kill this bitch, she would more than likely be trying to assist me in taking this hoe out.

  Eventually, I felt stronger arms on me, and whoever was pulling me this time got my hands from around her neck. This was Denim’s second time tonight cheating death because, at that moment, my mission was to kill this bitch. I swear, I wasn’t sparing this hoe.

  I looked behind me to see who it was, and it was Monterius. His face held a serious expression mixed with confusion as he more than likely tried to figure out what the fuck was going on. Denim was on her ass, struggling to breathe, and I was trying to get to her ass, but Monterius wouldn’t let me.

  “Billion, calm the fuck down. This shit ain’t worth it, nigga, and—”

  “Motha fucka, don’t tell me what ain’t worth it when you don’t know what the fuck is going on, yo! This silly bitch just let me know that Khari is not even my daughter! You still think it ain’t worth it? Get the fuck off me, yo!” I spat, moving his hands off me because he was keeping a nigga from getting to this bitch.

  Out of nowhere, the doors to the hall opened, and I saw my parents making their way over to us. Somebody was probably outside, and they caught what was going on, so they ran back and told. I was breathing hard, sweating like a motha fucka, as I stared down at this lying ass, manipulative ass bitch.

  I wasn’t a perfect man, and I had done did my fair share of shit over the years, but I would never in my fuckin’ life do nobody like this, yo. How the fuck was this shit even okay? You led me to believe that little girl was mine for the past five fuckin’ years. I had a bond with my daughter that was so fuckin’ special. It’s like, what the fuck does she get out of this shit? Because once it’s all said and done, only two people got hurt at the end of this shit, and that was Khari and me.

  My mama rushed over, and once she was close enough, she looked over at Denim and then at me. My mama knew I would never put my hands on a woman unless my hand was forced, which is why she wasn’t jumping down my throat, demanding to know why I had put my hands on Denim. Ain’t nobody know me better than my mama, so she had to know that I was pushed.

  “What the hell is going on? They told me you were out here trying to kill this girl! What’s going on, Billion?” my mama asked, still looking from me to Denim.

  Denim was on her ass, and what was making me even angrier was that this bitch had the nerve to still be crying. She caused this fuckin’ mess! What the fuck was she crying for? Fuck ass hoe was only crying because she had gotten caught, that’s it!

  “Tell her why you crying, Denim! Tell her why I’m two seconds away from killing your ass!” I barked at her.

  She didn’t answer me quick enough, and I finally got out of the hold that Monterius still had a nigga in, and I rushed her ass. I ain’t hit her, but I damn sure grabbed her ass up. She screamed when I did that and flailed her arms, kicking her legs and everything, more than likely scared that I would put my hands on her again.

  “Tell them what the fuck you just told me!” I barked with my face so close to hers that I could smell the liquor her dumb ass had overindulged in.

  “Khari is Reggie’s daughter. Billion, I’m so sorry... I’m sorry,” she said, and then she broke down crying.

  There was a gasp from behind me when Denim finally revealed that fucked up shit. When she said it, I visualized myself repeatedly slamming her head on the pavement, but I didn’t do it. I took that shit to the chin and stood up. I could feel all eyes on me, and because everyone standing out there knew that I had a temper, I knew they were mentally preparing to restrain me if they had to.

  Looking down at Denim one last time, I shook my head and went right back into the party where everyone was still having a good time. I scanned the huge ballroom until my eyes landed on my fuckin’ kids. I’d kill anybody who would try to convince me otherwise. The DJ was spinning that annoying ass “Renegade” song that all the kids listened to these days and did that lil corny ass dance to it. Both Lil Bill and Khari were on the dance floor, and the two of them were killing it.

  As much as I wanted my kids to finish having a good time, I walked on the dance floor, grabbed both by their hands, and headed for the door with them. I was taking my kids home with
me. This wasn’t the way I wanted to show my kids my new house, but again, I was pushed to do it this way. Their furniture wasn’t scheduled to be delivered until this week, but my furniture was in my room, and I had a big enough bed for the three of us to sleep in.

  “Where we going, daddy? I was dancing,” Khari said, looking up at me with those big, beautiful brown eyes of hers.

  She was too adorable tonight in her black dress with her long hair pulled up in a bun. The little girl who looked up at me with adoration in her eyes wasn’t even mine. This little girl didn’t even belong to me. She belonged to another nigga. I felt my eyes getting watery. I couldn’t put the shit in words how badly this was fuckin’ me up. I picked Khari up in my arms, and with my free hand, I held onto my son.

  At ten years old, I think it kind of registered to my son that something was going on. I felt like he knew his daddy was fucked up about something.

  “Why is Mommy crying, Daddy?” Khari asked.

  I knew we would have to pass by the commotion again because my car was parked in the same row as Denim’s in the parking lot. There was so much fucked up shit that I wanted to do at that moment. I wanted to have Denim address the truth again and tell this fucked up shit to my son and Khari. I wanted it to come out of her mouth that my kids weren’t even blood siblings. I wanted her to be the one to tell my daughter I wasn’t even her daddy, but I would not stoop that low. Instead, I would be the one to take on this burden for now because I didn’t have a clue how I was going to one day tell my kids the truth.

  One thing about me, I didn’t want to ever lie to my kids. My parents never lied to me, growing up. Any question I ever asked, they always answered, even if it was some shit that hurt my feelings.

  When I came home from prison, about a week into my freedom, my son wanted to know what I was in prison for, and I didn’t spare him shit. I told him the real because I knew my truth would lead him in the opposite direction, and when he grew up, he wouldn’t make the same fucked up decisions I made.

  “I’m taking my kids home with me. You better hope like fuck that I even let you see Khari again. You foul. I won’t disrespect you in front of these kids, but just know you foul,” I told Denim.

  I walked over to my car, and I could feel my mama walking on the side of us. She said nothing. My mama knew me well enough to know this was one thing she would just have to let me figure out on my own.

  We made it to the car, and I opened the front door for my son to get in, and then I opened the back door, letting Khari climb in and sit in the middle. I made sure I put her seat belt on for her, and once I was done, I kissed her forehead and then closed the door behind me. The second I closed it, my mama was standing right there with open arms. A nigga ain’t never going to be too old to hug my mama. Shit, I needed her fuckin’ hugs at that moment.

  My head crashed into the crook of her neck while she placed her hand on the back of my head. For the longest, she didn’t say shit.

  “Five years, ma. That bitch let five years go by, and then she drops a fuckin’ bomb on me like this. It ain’t even like she willingly told me this shit either. I just happened to be walking back into the party, and I heard her talking to herself. How the fuck can a woman look a nigga in the eyes after doing some foul shit like this?

  “I remember when Denim told me she was pregnant. I never questioned her whether the baby was mine because I knew the way I was recklessly moving with her, so I believed the baby was mine. Around that time, she swore that she wasn’t even messing around like that with her other baby daddy. Denim and I may have never been in a relationship or no shit like that, but I had always been good to her. During her pregnancy, I made sure she didn’t want for shit. Before I got locked, I was always there, helping out with Khari. I made sure that the two of them were financially straight after having to serve my time.

  “Man, she could have said this shit years ago. She could have told me while I was locked up. That way, I could have better prepared myself for this shit. Me and that Reggie nigga don’t even get along, Ma. There I was, stomping a nigga out for talking to my daughter crazy, when the whole fuckin’ time, that’s his kid. Man, this some bullshit,” I said, and then I finally pulled away from her.

  “I say take her ass to court. Right now, you can show the judge that you’re in a position to financially take care of your kids. Plus, you can show them that you have a spot for them to lay their heads. Denim doesn’t work. Her income comes from you,” my mama tried to reason with me, but I shook my head.

  “Yeah, and I can also show a judge that I’m a convicted felon, and I haven’t even been home from prison for a whole year yet. This income shit is just getting started, so I don’t think it’s going to stick with them. Denim can show that she been raising Khari on her own, in my absence, for the past five years,” I told her.

  “You are her father by law, Billionaire! You signed a birth certificate, so in the eyes of the law, that’s your child. Fight for full custody, and if they can’t grant you that, then you need to try for at least partial custody, but what you aren’t going to do is give the fuck up! Don’t you just altogether walk away from this little girl because we both know how much she loves you. It’s fucked up what Denim did. You don’t know how bad I want to come up out of these heels and give her ass an old school ass beating, but I know that even after I beat her ass, the fact will still remain that my son is hurting. Take the kids home, love on them, and have your bonding time with them. I’m going to come over first thing in the morning to cook breakfast for y’all. Alright?” she asked.

  “Aight,” I said, ready to open my door because I didn’t want to talk about this shit anymore.

  “I love you, son,” my mama let me know.

  “I love you too,” I told her, and then I hopped in the car.

  Before I pulled out, I sent Sidnesha a text message, letting her know that I was taking our son home with me because she probably wasn’t aware that I’d left the party with him. As far as Lil’ Bill, I knew without a doubt he was mine. That lil boy had my whole fuckin’ face, and I knew that when he was conceived, I was fuckin’ with Nesha hard, and it was vice versa. Sidnesha could say some of the most fucked up shit out of her mouth to hurt a nigga, but pinning a baby on me that she knew wasn’t mine… nah, I couldn’t see her ever doing some shit like that.

  Sidnesha texted me back, asking if everything was okay and if I wanted her to bring my son some clothes over to my house. I let her know that everything was straight, and I had the shit handled. I pulled out of the parking lot. We had been in the car for about five minutes when my phone buzzed with a call from Normani. Instantly, I silenced the ringer and threw the phone into the cup holder. I fucked with Normani hard, but I ain’t feel like being bothered right now. The shit was still too fuckin’ fresh for me, and I ain’t want to get on the phone and take out how I was feeling on her. By the time I got my kids settled in bed and shit, I would send her a message to let her know that I had made it home.

  See, shit like this just reminded me why Sidnesha and I didn’t work out. Yeah, we were toxic for each other and always arguing about some shit, but I just remembered how whenever some shit bothered me, I would lock myself up in this dark place where I would let no one in. I ain’t know how to share my loads of pain. I always felt like I had to battle my demons and shit on my own. It was fucked up because I did all this fuckin’ chasing behind Normani, but now, I just needed some time to figure out how the hell I would handle this shit.

  Normani would probably think that a nigga played her, but I swear I didn’t. This wasn’t even my way of breaking up with shorty. I just knew this started the long process of fighting my demons.

  “You okay, Dad?” my son asked after we had driven for about ten minutes.

  We had about another fifteen minutes before we made it home. I would not keep this a secret, but I wasn’t ready to talk about this shit right now with him. Khari was in the back, sleeping, so it wasn’t like she would hear the conversation taking place. However, I knew how much my son adored his baby sister, and to discover that she wasn’t even his sister would fuck him up… so nah, I would not do this shit right now.