Page 54 of The Millionaire Mortician
I jumped up and stepped toward him. “Keep my legs closed? Last I remembered, you opened them and almost didn’t give me a choice. You were on my body hard, not letting up, not the other way around. So, don’t make it seem like it was all me. I just fell victim to your charm,” I ranted.
He held the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Besides who your nigga is?—”
“Was,” I cut him off and corrected him.
“Was... I really fuck with you. But this shit here is wild as fuck,” he expressed.
“Yeah, and now a baby is involved,” I let slip out subconsciously. “Fuck.” I caught on to my mistake immediately.
“Baby? You pregnant?” He stepped closer.
I bit my bottom lip as I thought about what to tell him. Should I be sure it’s Milan’s, so he can go about his business, or should I tell him the truth that the baby could potentially be his?
Fuck my life, I thought.
“Yes,” I simply answered.
“Whose baby is that, Daija?”
I looked him dead in his eyes. “I don’t know.” I shrugged.
“Fuck you mean you don’t know. Daija, this some?—”
“Fabian, stop! At the end of the day, my baby and I will be good regardless. Fuck Milan and fuck you. I don’t know y’all,” I raised my voice a bit higher than I wanted to.
I grabbed my phone, bag, and keys and bolted for the door. Fabian was hot on my tail as I rushed out of the salon. He tried grabbing my hand, but I snatched it away and hurried into the car. Starting the engine, I placed my Audio in drive and pulled away from the curb, entering traffic.
My eyes were filled with tears as I started becoming emotional again. I couldn’t believe that was what my life had come to. I speed through the streets of Manhattan, swerving in and out of lanes. My mind was so preoccupied that I missed the turn to get onto the Brooklyn Bridge, which led me to end up on the FDR Drive. Now I would’ve had to make a long, unnecessary drive to get back to Brooklyn.
“Fuckkkk!” I screamed, hitting the steering wheel.
I felt like nothing was going my way, and everything and everyone seemed to be against me. I knew for a fact my mother wanted better for me, and she was looking down, displeased.
At that point, I just wanted to disappear. I wanted to be gone.Maybe being with my mother would be better, I thought.
I mashed on my gas as the needle rose quickly toward eighty miles per hour. Looking ahead, I thought I had room to switch lanes, but a car ahead slowed down, making me have to swerve. I hit the side of the FDR, and my car was airborne, which was the last thing I remembered.
The day I had at work had me dead to the world. I was stretched across the bed in a heavy sleep for once. The night I kicked Daija’s ass out, I didn’t get any sleep. Then the following day, I drowned myself in work to distract myself from doing something stupid.
Out of nowhere, there was a loud banging on my front door, snatching me out of my sleep. At the same time, my security alarm wailed through the house, and my phone started to notify me that someone was on my property.
I shot up quickly and reached for my phone on the nightstand. Moving swiftly, I clicked on the camera app and saw that it was the police at the door.
What the fuck?
Two uniform cops stood stiffly at the door. Observing the street view, I saw it wasn’t a full team. There were no SWAT, no vans, or dogs. It was just the two of them. My nerves settled a notch. If they had come for me, it wouldn’t have been that quiet. Still, I wasn’t about to take chances. I hit Mav’s line right away.
He answered on the second ring. “Yo.”
“Twelve’s at my door,” I informed him.
“I’m on my way,” he stated with no hesitation. The line went dead right after.
I slid out of bed, threw on my sweats that I had hanging on my chair, and then headed downstairs. Each step felt slower than the last. At the door, I paused, exhaled once, then unlocked it.
The two officers stood there. One was older, while the other was younger. Their eyes flicked over me like they knew exactly who I was.
“Milan Marcano?” the older one asked.
