Page 36 of Hellcat Barbies: Imani
“The Carlton Inn,” she utters.
“Send me your location,” I say then end the call. My mind runs wild with too many unanswered questions.Is she serious? Could we have a child? Do I have a son? When was she pregnant?
She sends her location and I follow the directions to the hotel. My mind doesn’t stop spinning during the drive because I can’t wrap it around any of this shit.Do I really have a son?
When I pull up to the hotel, I drive straight to the front. There’s a valet line so I park behind it. After texting Makenna that I’m here, I hop out. As soon as I’m out of my ride, an attendant rushes over to me, yelling.
“Sir! Sir, I’m sorry, but you can’t park right there!” He’s right on my heel as I march toward the main entrance. “Sir!” he yells again so I pull out my wallet and take out a bill.
“I’m not staying. Look out for it,” I tell him.
After examining the hundred-dollar bill, he smiles, nods, then walks away, leaving me to head inside. As soon as I walk through the electronic glass doors, I spot Makenna and freeze. I barely recognize her. The pretty woman I once knew is now a shell of herself.
Damn!
Her light hazel eyes are the only reason I recognize her at all. Makenna has always been petite but she’s painfully smaller now, more bones than flesh. As I step closer to her, her drastic change becomes more evident. There are dark spots under her eyes and her cheeks are sunken. She’s so skinny, devoid of any womanly curves and she’s dressed down in a long dress that’s obviously too big. Her hair is back and her narrow face is bare.
“Hey,” she says. She steps forward, then quickly steps back while fidgeting with her hands.
I know I’m staring because my eyes and mind are battling to believe that this is Makenna, that this is the woman that cared more about her appearance than our relationship. It would take her hours to get ready before we went anywhere. Not one string of hair or not one eyelash could be out of place. She had to be perfect before she would walk out of her house so seeing her like this is unbelievable.
“What’s going on, Makenna?” I ask.
“Let’s sit first,” she pleads while motioning to the chairs in the lobby area.
She turns and journeys to them and I follow her to a table with two chairs. We sit at the same time. Although I’m still shook by her appearance, I’m more anxious to hear about the son I supposedly have with her.
“How do we have a son?” I ask and her weary eyes get wide.
“I was pregnant when the feds picked you up,” she says and my eyes pop.
“Then why the fuck didn’t you tell me? Are you sure he’s mine?” I question out of pure anger at her revelation. Prior to my arrest, Makenna was only with me.
“I was scared. The feds had just kicked in your doors and arrested you. I didn’t know what was going to happen. I thought I was pregnant but found out for sure two days after they arrested you. They were questioning me too; I was scared. I freaked out and ran to Houston to my Maw Maw.”
“Without saying shit to me? You were pregnant with my son and just left. What the fuck where you thinking?”
“That I wanted to keep my baby safe. I didn’t want them to keep questioning me and kicking in my doors. You were going away and it was just me,” she cries.
“What about my family? Shit, you reached out to my aunt to find me now. What about six fucking years ago? You could have at least told them,” I bark. My voice is booming and starting to draw the attention of the few people in here so I try to take a deep breath to calm down.
“I don’t know,” she mumbles and tears start streaming down her cheek.
“I have a son that I didn’t even know about. What the fuck? Makenna, you were dead ass wrong for this shit. Dead ass. I can’t. Man, where is he? What’s his name? Does he even fucking know about me?”
She reaches under the table and when her hands come back up, she has a cell phone. After opening it and swiping a few times, she stretches her hand out to me so I can see the screen.On it is a picture that could very well be my own photo of me at his age. A mini version of me with her pecan complexion and light eyes has stolen my breath.
There is no doubt this is my son.
I’m overcome with the wave of emotions. I can’t believe that I have a child, especially one that looks so much like me. A tsunami of anger rushes over me, knowing that he was kept from me. Then seconds later, I feel happy as shit because I have a son. My anger returns though when I look back up and see her face.She really kept my son from me.
“what’s his name?” I ask again.
“His name is Daymir but we call him DJ,” she begins and I shake my fucking head.
“He’s named after me?” I ask as my anger builds back up. Still trying to wrap my head around this shit, I grab her phone and stare at the picture of my son, my damn twin. I have a million fucking questions and more importantly I wanna see him.
“Yes. Just his first name. He knows that his daddy had to go away but is back now. He’s seen a few pictures of us but that’s it. I didn’t know what else to tell him. He was too young anyway but now, he’s asking questions, especially now.”
