TYCE II (12 page)

“YES YOU ARE!! WERE GONNA TALK ABOUT THIS SHIT!!”

“No the fuck we aint…I’m gone.”

Sway hurried to the closet to grab some clothes. He got dressed in a few seconds and attempted to leave the room. Ranae moved from the side of the bed to the doorway blocking the only way out.

“Move.” He walked up on her.

“NO!!”

“Move Ranae
.”

“NO, YOU’RE GONNA TELL ME WHO SHE IS SWAY!! WHO’S THE BITCH?!!”

Sway’s jaws clenched in anger, he was beginning to get frustrated with this whole scene. Maintaining his cool was becoming increasingly difficult as his wife tried to block his exit.

He closed his eyes and sighed, “I’m not fuckin’ anybody else, now please move.”

A good ole fashion standoff was taking place right in the doorway of their master bedroom. She knew Sway could easily pick her 130-pound body up and fling her through the air. This wasn’t their first argument by any means but it was the most intense. Thoughts of their children and the glass bottle she was still holding crept into her mind as she contemplated what to do next.
To avoid a potentially violent altercation, she decided to let him leave. If it was one lesson she learned from her mother growing up, it was knowing when to fight and when to walk away.

             
Ranae shifted her body to the side. “Go head, leave.”

Sway didn’t hesitate one second before he brushed by his wife’s shoulder and walked down the hallway toward the stairs. He quickly made his way to the garage shaking his head back and forth as he climbed into his truck. The huge garage door slowly went up and he saw freedom in the rearview mirror
.

Ranae watched from the bay window of the living room as her husband drove his Denali down the driveway and onto the dark street. Standing there alone in the stillness of her home, she remembered another lesson her mother taught her…
never let your left hand know what your right hand is doing
.

The luxury SUV parked around the corner. Sway laid his head back against the seat and exhaled slowly. His mind was in a fog. He tried to focus his thoughts and steady his mind but
just couldn’t do it. What the hell just happened? How did shit get so twisted?

He searched for his phone finding it under his leg. Although he didn’t feel like talking to his wife, there was one woman that he didn’t mind talking to.

Angelique was sitting on her bed balancing her
checkbook
when her phone rang. Looking over at it, she smiled when she seen who it was.

She quickly answered it, “Hey you.”

“Wasup…can you talk?”
He asked cautiously.
Angelique locked her bedroom door and flopped down on her b
ed, “Yeah what’s on your mind?”

             
I woke up at 6 a.m. and felt the warmth of Dallas’s curvy ass pressed up against the small of my back. We started out
the night
cuddling in her bed but separated after about 15 minutes. All the niggas that sing these love songs talking about holding a woman in their arms all night
long
were full of shit. You can’t get
a good night’s rest
with somebody holding you all night. Plus
,
Dallas sleeps to wild, not to mention how hot it gets with t
wo grown ass adults all up on
each other under a
thick ass
comforter.
That shit was unrealistic in my eyes.

             
I didn’t want to wake her so I did my best to slide out the bed unnoticed. As soon as she felt the mattress move from the shift in
weight,
her eyes opened up slowly.

             
“Trying
to hit and run huh?” She smiled at me.

I loved her humor and quick wittedness, Dallas always kept me laughing.

“Yeah, I was gonna leave my number on the nightstand with a not
e that said thanks for the ride

the ride lady.
”

She pushed my shoulder, “You
’
r
e so
silly.
What time is it?”

“It’s 6 o’clock, I was trying not to wake you up…you know you need your beauty sleep.”

“Please, I could sleep two minutes a month and still be fine.” She said snapping her finger.

“I know that’s right, you look good on a bad day huh?” I fed her ego some breakfast.

“Damn right, don’t let me get my eyebrows arched and my hair done…a bitch can
’t tell me shit.” She chuckled.

At that
moment,
Angelique came in the room interrupting the
early morning pillow talk we
were
having.

“Oh, there you are, I was looking for you.” She stood in the doorway eating a piece of raisin toast.

I
smiled at her, “Morning babe.”

“Good morning you two, how’d you sleep?” She sauntered over to the bed and plopped down.

“I slept good.”

“Me too.” Dallas chimed in.

Angelique swiftly
changed her expression from happy to concerned.

“Tyce, I need to talk to you.”

I rubbed my chest and met her gaze, “Ok, wasup?”

She stopped eating her toast and sighed before she spoke.

“I’m a lil concerned about this situation with Diego. I mean I jus’ think you’re not taking this seriously enough. He’s dangerous, we really need to talk about what we
’
re gonna do. I don’t wanna see you get hurt…or worse.”

Dallas was quiet as she waited for my response. I could

tell
she was a little worried herself but tried to hide it behind a tough exterior.

“Don’t worry, it may seem like I’m taking this lightly but I’m not. I can handle Diego.”
I tried to console her.

“I jus’ feel left
out;
I mean
we
feel left out. We’re a trio and it’s like
you don’t need us to help you handle this nigga.”

Angelique never ceased to amaze me. Here she was dying to clip a nigga on my beha
lf…what a woman.

“Listen to me, this Diego shit should all be over in a few days. In the mean time I’ma do me, wherever, whenever, and however. Fuck Diego and his brother, I got plans for them. I jus’ need you both to be extra careful. And since you bring it up Angelique…I hate to be the warden type nigga but I can’t have you MIA for hours and hours. I aint trying to keep tabs on you but until this blows over, I need to know where you at.” Angelique touched my thigh, “I know I’ve been kinda busy lately but I promise to be c
areful and keep you posted.”

“Alright that’s my girl. Ay, since you’re up and dressed already, you mind swinging by the
Four
Seasons
hotel and reserving a suite?”

“Sure, for how many days?”

“Jus’ make it a week.”

Dallas sat up in the bed, exposing her bare breasts as the covers fell to her lap.

“What’s the room for?”

“I’m jus’ makin’ some accommodations for a friend of mine.” I answered easily.

“Oh ok.
Ohhhhh shit Angelique, let me tell you ‘bout this bitch the other night!”

Knowing what was coming next, I decided to leave the room and head to my own. It was too early in the morning for all that drama.

             
After I took a shower and got dressed, I went to the kitchen to grab some breakfast. The refrigerator normally was stocked full of shit but I had a hard time finding anything to eat. I guess Angelique didn’t have time to go shopping this week. So
I ended up
with a cinnamon roll and washed it down with the last little bit of orange juice in the carton.

             
I decided to get my
Michael
Jordan
on and shoot
a basket using the empty carton as a make shift basketball.
The carton landed on top of an over flowing trash can. I took that as an obvious sign to take the trash out to the dumpster, plus I remembered it was trash day in my upscale community and in this neighborhood you had to have your trash out by the curb by eight or you’d miss out.

             
It was a beautiful morning as I carried the trash bag in one hand and pushed the full barrel with the other toward the curb. I always thought it was a man’s job to take out the trash. Whenever I saw a woman taking trash out I felt it was beneath her…that’s just the way I saw it. I’d almost made it to the street when the bag busted and trash spilled all over my
new
Nike
sandals.
Bottles,
eggshells
, milk jugs, dirty paper towels, and everything else you could imagine came tumbling out onto the ground. I cursed the weak ass plastic bag; I started to walk back to the house to get a fresh bag to clean all the shit up when I noticed something strange. I kneeled down to get a closer look and sure enough, peeking out from underneath a bread wrapper
-
I seen it.

It was a slender white and purple box with the words EPT written all ov
er it. I knew exactly what those letters stood for and I wasted no time pulling out the contents. A white stick that resembled a thermometer was in my hands, and inside the little window, I saw two pink lines. I knew it was a pregnancy test but I had no clue what two pink lines meant…so I read the instructions on the side of the
box.

In small
print,
the manufactures of the popular test informed me that two pink lines indicated a positive result. Two pink lines meant that
either
Angelique
or
Dallas
was pregnant.

Suddenly my dirty ass sandals didn’t seem so important, one of my girlfriends was carryin
g my seed…but which one was it?

Obviously, I wasn’t supposed to see the test, so maybe I should wait and let
Ms. Pink Line tell me herself.

Damn life was a trip.

“So Mr. Santos thank you for coming to see me, did you bring
the information I requested?”

Armando took a seat crossing his legs and leaning back in the soft leather chair. He had a slight smirk on his light bro
wn face as he listened
.

“No Ms. Adkins, I didn’t bring the info you requested.”

Her head cocked to the side as she shifted in her seat.

“Well, it will be more difficult to track your wife without any personal information about her. As I explained to you over the phone, I use that info to aid me in the field. I cannot guarantee my work if I have nothing to go on.”

Armando smiled slyly, “You don’t need any info on my wife…
because
I don’t have a wife.”

“Ok, so why are you here? My time is valuable Mr. Santos and I don’t appreciate people wasting it.”
She
said sternly.

“Fuck your time bitch.” Armando’s legs remained crossed as he
sat
in a relaxed position.

“Excuse me.”

“You heard
me;
I said fuck your time bitch.”

“This meeting is
over;
get the hell out of my office!”
Armando was the picture of composure, “You are giving me a headac
he, now sit back in the
fucking chair.
”

She
quickly opened a drawer in her desk, the black and silver gun slid into view but before she could grab it Armando pulled his out aiming directly at her forehead.

“I wouldn’t do th
at if I was you unless you want a
bullet in your brain, now sit down!”

Freezing like a
statue,
she
did as s
he was told and sunk back in the
seat. All kinds of thoughts ran through her mind,
h
er heart was beating because she knew she was in d
anger.

“What do you want Mr. Santos? Why are you doing this? If it’s money you’re after then please just take my purse and leave.”

Armando kept his gun aimed at her, “My name is
not
Mr. Santos...it’s Armando Alverez and I have plenty of money…what I don’t have is your son.
”

“What are you talking about
, I don’t have a son.”

“Maybe you’ll remember your son if I shoot you in the collar bone.” He said irritated.