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“You think I should text Juvie to ask if he could bring Nico? I want to see him. I feel like that’ll put me in better spirits,” I suggested.

“Yeah. Text him. Tell him that I’ll come and get him. I’m going to go home so that I can shower and stuff, and I’ll bring Nico back with me. I also need to smoke a fuckin blunt. You scared the shit out of me. I don’t think you understand the way I would have crashed out if that little plan of yours had actually gone though. I would have personally left this earth, just so I could get to you and beat the shit out of you,” she said, standing up from the bed.

I laughed, while laying down, and pulling the covers over me. I was getting ready to go back to sleep. I wanted to sleep my problems away.

“What you want to eat? I’m going to come back with food,” she let me know.

“I’m not hungry,” I said.

“That wasn’t an option. You fuckin up already. What do you want to eat Anari?” she asked, calling me by my government name, as she reached for her hoodie that was resting on the chair, and she quickly put it on.

“Chipotle. You know how I get my bowl. Just get that for me,” I said, and she nodded.

“Okay. Text Juvie and tell me what he says. I’ll be back. I love you,” she assured me, coming over, and placing a couple of kisses on my forehead.

“I love you more,” I replied, and that was it.

I watched Deja as she grabbed her purse and walked out of the room. Once she was gone, I texted Juvie to see if my sister could come get Nico. He quickly texted back, letting me know that it was cool. He didn’t know what transpired last night. I’ll probably tell him, but just not right now.

I relayed the message to Deja from Juvie, and she gave me a time to tell Juvie to have Nico ready. Once I did that, I tossed the phone on the table that was next to me and allowed my head to hit the pillow.

Before falling asleep, I went to God in prayer, begging Him not to let these people put me in a psych ward, and take my baby from me. The second I said ‘Amen’, I fell asleep.

CHAPTER 4

JAVARIS ‘HITTA’ MITCHELL

Iwas in the area, so I figured I would pull up on my mama. I haven’t seen her in months. We talked a couple of weeks ago, when she hit my phone, asking for money. That’s the kind of mother that she was though. She only hit me when she needed something. If she was low on cash, she would either text or call me, begging for shit. If a nigga was over her crib beating her ass, or wouldn’t leave, she would hit me to come over, so I could put my foot in the nigga’s ass, getting him up out of there. She never called me just to ask me what I was doing. Never sent me messages, telling me that she cooked dinner, and for me to come grab a plate. Despite all that, and all the other wrongdoings that she’s done over the years, I still loved her. I loved her because I felt like I had to. That was my mother. The one that carried me for nine months, and brought me into this world, so I felt like I had to love her.

My mom lived in a townhouse. She stayed out in the Hollywood area. She’s been here a little over a year now. The community was gated. I had the code to the gate, so I was able to key it in, and the gate instantly opened. Her townhouse was towards the back, so it took about a minute to make it back here. As I was pulling up, I spotted her, standing in a short ass silk robe, that she was tying in the front. There was a nigga walking towards his car that looked to be about my age. Mind you, my mama was well into her fuckin late forties, yet she had this young nigga leaving out of her crib. A young nigga that I’m sure she just let fuck her. I knew that move. That move when a woman just finished fuckin, and she either stands on the porch or in the doorway to watch you leave.

Seeing that, I sucked my teeth, quickly zoomed to get to her driveway because I wanted to see this nigga face to face. I grabbed my gun that I had resting in the cupholder, placing it on my hip, and quickly stepped out.

The second I stepped out, the dude turned his head, looking over at me. I didn’t know him. Never saw him before a day in my life. Now that I was closer, he looked even younger than me, instead of being the same age as me.

“What the fuck you doing over here bruh?” I asked him, and he sucked his teeth.

“Who the fuck is you to be questioning me?” he snapped back.

“Hitta, leave that boy the fuck alone!” my mama snapped at me from the porch.

I was mugging the fuck out of this nigga. I could look at bruh and tell that he was well fucked. He had light skin, so the hickies that were placed on his neck were clear as day. They were fresh too. As badly as I wanted to beat the shit out of him, I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t him who I was angry with. It was the bitch that was standing on the porch.

After we both stood here mugging each other, he eventually walked off. I watched him as he hopped into his whip, started it up, and pulled off. He went flying down the street, and that’s when I walked up the driveway, and over to my mama.

“Where the fuck you know that nigga from? He not even in your age range. You do some weird ass shit, man. You fuckin a nigga that look younger than me!” I snapped, not being able to hide the distain in my voice that I had for her.

“Oh, Hitta please! That boy is well in his 30’s! He just has a baby face. What you doing popping up on me anyways? I told you about doing that shit. Every time you pop up on me, you see some shit that you don’t want to see!” she snapped right back, walking away from me, so that she could go for the front door.

She opened it, walked in first, and I caught it with my hand, walking in after her.

I got a whiff of whatever it was that she’d cooked. Not only did she fuck that nigga, but from the smell, I could tell that she cooked for him too. Shaking my head, I followed her into the kitchen. She had pots and pans sitting on the stove, and dishes in the sink. I watched her as she began to pull the dishes out of the sink, setting them on the counter, prepared to fill the sink with dish soap, and water for her to wash the dishes. While she did that, I took a seat in one of the barstools, mugging the fuck out of her ass. I couldn’t even hide the look of disgust if I tried. Same way that nigga was marked with hickies and shit on his neck is the same way that her ass was marked up.

“Why you staring at me like that Javaris? That’s why I don’t like it when you come over here. The only thing your ass wants to do is judge a bitch. I don’t say shit to you when you run around, fuckin all those hoes. If you about to start up, please get out!” she snapped.

“You’re a woman, you not supposed to be out here doing what I do. Then, you move so fuckin sloppy. You be having random niggas in and out your fuckin house. You would think that as you get a little older, you would stop doing that shit. You shouldn’t be doing the same whorish shit that your ass was doing when I was a kid. That plays a part in why our relationship so fucked up now!” I couldn’t suppress the way I was feeling.

When it came to the shit that my mama was out here doing, plus the slack kind of mom that she’s been to me since I was a kid, this was a touchy subject for me. Not to justify me putting my hands on Deja, but since the subject was so touchy for me, that’s why I blacked out that night and put my hands on her the way that I did. Nobody really talks about the way that shit will fuck with your mind when you have to grow up watching your mom be the neighborhood hoe.