Page 31 of Dom
We pulled into the private gated townhome community like royalty. It was the kind of place where every lawn looked uniform, and every house had that new-money look to it. Her new spot was a two-story townhome with white stucco, black trim, a modern glass door, and her own private driveway. Inside was fully furnished in cream, mocha, and soft gold colors with clean lines, plush rugs, big mirrors, recessed lighting, and marble countertops. It was really some classy, grown woman shit… some shit Keondra ain’t never seen before.
She stepped inside and immediately froze. “This mine?” she gasped, almost scared to touch anything.
“Yeah,” Dique said. “This the Royal upgrade.” He told her. Kaylani waddled toward the stairs, and her little bowlegs were working overtime.
“Let her see her room,” I told one of my people ahead of us.
We followed behind, and when Keondra opened Kaylani’s room door, I watched her entire energy change. The walls were painted soft lavender. She had a white princess bed with the sheer netting draped over the headboard that sat in the center of the room. There were stuffed animals lined up on a bench under the window. There was a dollhouse in one corner, and a reading nook in the other. She even had a closet full of brand-new clothes, with all the tags still on. I was proud of Dique for getting everything situated with the little time that he had.
Keondra covered her mouth with her hands. “Y’all really did all this?”
Dique stepped behind her. “She a Royal. This the bare minimum… ain’t even half, but you gotta stay out my way and out my ear. I’ma take care of what’s mine… in peace.”
The Kaylani climbed on her bed, laughing, and Keondra just stood there with tears welling up but refusing to let them fall. I knew that feeling. Thatdamn, this too good to be truetype of disbelief.
I looked her dead in her face. “You ain’t gotta like how I lay down the law, Keondra. But you gon’ respect what this name come with. Ain’t no runnin’ ‘round actin’ like a hood rat. No more porch yelling, no more beef with randoms. You got eyes on you now. That child? She’s mine too. You act up, we snatch her back. Simple.”
She slowly nodded her head while gently biting the inside of her cheek. “I got it. I swear I do.”
Dique then threw her the keys to a new white Lexus NX parked in the garage that still had the red bow on top. “You gon’need this to get her around,” he said. “Ain’t no bus rides or Ubers no more. She deserve better than that.”
“Dique…” she breathed, shaking her head like it was all a dream.
He shrugged. “Don’t say I ain’t never gave you shit.”
She looked like she wanted to hug him, but Dique wasn’t with all that shit. He bent down instead, picked up his daughter, and sat her on the counter. “Aye,” he said to the Kaylani, lifting her chin so her eyes locked with his. “Daddy gon’ teach you how to talk real slick one day. But for now… you just be a princess.”
She giggled instead. “Daddy, can I have ice cream?”
Dique gently brushed his hand over her nose and then pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. “You can have all the ice cream you want baby.”
I turned to head out, but told address Keondra again, “There’s security posted outside. If you need anything, call Carmen… Dique will give you the number… but don’t be callin’ Dique with no drama. That man tryin’ to do right.” I advised her, daring that she play with me. As I left the house, I glanced back one time and Keondra was standing in the middle of the polished kitchen with her car keys in her hand, and for the first time… she looked like she believed she was worth something. The same look we all had when we finally got out of the hood. Now that this mission was accomplished, it was time to get up out of there. By the time I got back to the penthouse, my body was begging me to lay the fuck down. My chest felt heavy, my head was pounding, and every joint in my body ached like I just stepped out of a chain gang fight which, truthfully, I had… just in the streets. But being sick? That shit didn’t me and it never had.
The chef had already left for the night, but he made sure to leave the pot of the Pepper soup or like most called it, the Soup Joumou on the stove. I sat at the marble counter in silence, with my hoodie still on, with my socks still on, sippingslow out the bowl like an old ass man. The TV was off, but my phone was steady buzzing with updates. All of the updates were security updates, shipment confirmations, and coded cartel communications from all coasts from the east, south, and west. Every hitta was clocked in and every camera angle covered them all. I got a few more notifications that Miami, Atlanta, L.A., even New York was all locked in, ready to light up if needed. El Blanca had already taken too many L’s, and my hittas were on standby waiting for the word if needed but even with the empire moving smooth right now, I couldn’t shake the pressure behind my eyes or the burn in my throat. The only thing that distracted me was Carmen calling me right on time.
I instantly picked up in a low and gritty voice. “How you feelin’?” I asked.
“This morning, I couldn’t even keep down ginger ale.” She explained sounding weak, and I wasn’t used to it. I actually felt bad for her. She only felt like this because of a seed that I planted in her. Had any other female claimed that they were carrying my child, they’d have to prove it, but I knew I didn’t have to question Carmen. “I’ve been throwing up all damn day,” she said.
I closed my eyes, leaned back on the stool trying to ignore my own issues over here. “You want me to come over?”
“No,” she whispered. “I think you’re sick too. You sound like shit.”
I nodded my head. “Appreciate it,” I said, through the congestion. She knew I felt like shit, but I still would’ve come if she needed me to. I coughed a few times and got up to fix some Theraflu. Since I had been the king of Miami, I never had to do this kind of shit for myself because somebody on my payroll was always around to make sure I didn’t have to, but taking care of myself right now gave me a sense of normalcy and fuckin’ peace.
She chuckled, soft and sexy, but I could tell she was trying to keep it together. If I could I wanted to be there to do whatevershe needed me to do even if it was just to rub her back. I didn’t want to miss shit. I didn’t care if it was just sitting on her bed, just being there. At the same time, I couldn’t risk passing on whatever the fuck I had right now… not with how fragile she seemed right now and definitely not with that baby she was carrying.
“I miss you,” she said softly.
“Yeah, I know,” I replied. “I miss you too.” I told her being honest. Had I not missed her, I wouldn’t even tell her. One thing Carmen knew about me was I wasn’t in the business of lying to no female, I didn’t care who it was.
When we hung up, and I just sat there with my fingers over my mouth staring towards the balcony. I ain’t never been scared of shit, not bullets, not somebody betraying me, and damn sho’ not death but Carmen, that baby, and this life? That shit scared the fuck out of me. A knock at the door broke my thoughts. It wasn’t that easy getting up here, so I knew it had to be one of my people. I checked the security camera and saw Tone. He stepped inside looking like his usual self and well rested. Tone had on a big ass chain with a medallion hanging from it, his golds was glistening, and a chunky Cuban bracelet was on his wrist. Nigga looked like a linebacker in designer, but I could tell the past few days off was what he needed even if Shona was over there working his ass. He dapped me up like always.
“You look like shit,” he said, flashing his teeth.
“And you look like a retired trap nigga turned soon-to-be daddy,” I shot back. “The fuck you doin’ here? I thought you was on early maternity leave.”
We both laughed, and it was the kind that came from exhaustion more than joy, but it was real. He pulled out a bottle of D’usse from my cabinet like it was his house, poured up two shots and handed me one. “What’s up, bro?”
