Page 6 of Down With the King of the South 4

“I have both parents and a little brother, along with a big sister. Why you asking me this? What does this have to do with anything?” he asked.

“You love them?” I asked, not even bothering to answer his question because this was my show; he was just a cast member at the moment.

“Of course, I love them! Why wouldn’t I?” he asked as if my question was dumb.

That right there proved to me that he wasn’t from the streets because had he been, he would have known right away where I was going with this.

“Stay the fuck away from my daughter then, nigga! If I hear that you were even within ten feet of my child, I’m coming for you. If I can’t find you, I’ma go after the closest thing. So far, that seems like mommy, daddy, sister, and brother. I don’t give a fuck what you and Tahira do in your spare time. You two motha fuckas could sniff coke and put needles in each other’s arms for that matter, but you are not to be around my motha fuckin’ daughter. She called and told me what happened. You a coward to even do that shit

while my child is here. I’m only telling you this as a warning for your life. Just in case your ass ever goes crazy, and you think it’s okay to put your hands on my child—”

“Tahira and I are going to get married soon, which will make Taniya my stepdaughter. If she ever misbehaves, then I can use physical punishment—”

Pow! I walked right up on the nigga and punched his ass right in his fuckin’ mouth. His blood was on my finger, and his tooth had dropped on his shirt.

“Motha fucka, what? You can use what?” I questioned, putting my ear to his bloody mouth.

I pulled out the gun that I had on me and swung it so hard across his face that I swear I heard a bone in his jaw crack.

“Owwwwww,” he cried out, holding his face.

“Miami! Get off him! What the fuck are you doing?” Tahira screamed at the top of her lungs as she ran into the room and tried to go to his aid, but I grabbed her by her arm to stop her.

There was crimson blood on her white, furry rug. Just the thought of another nigga putting his hands on my child when I didn’t even put my hands on Niya, and I was her fuckin’ parent just sent me over the edge.

“Take your ass back up fuckin’ stairs. I’m putting this nigga out, shorty. Ima tell you like I just told him; he isn’t to be around my fuckin’ daughter! You got that?” I asked her, and she ignored me.

“I said, do you got that? I’m not playing no motha fuckin’ games with your ass, shorty,” I barked, making the pictures on the fuckin’ wall shake.

“I got it, Miami! Damn!” she cried.

I released the hold that I had her in, and she went back upstairs like I’d told her to.

“Get the fuck out of here, nigga, while you still can. Tell me thank you for not killing your ass,” I voiced, standing over him.

“Thank… you,” he struggled to get out as he forced himself to stand up.

Once he was up on his two feet, he stumbled out of the house. With the gun placed back in the waistband of my jeans, I went over to the stairs, taking them two at a time. I knew which room belonged to my daughter, so I went ahead and turned the doorknob once I was standing in front of it. Like I knew she would be, Taniya was peacefully sleeping in her bed.

I wanted to be around some fuckin’ love tonight. These past few nights, I’d been going to sleep by myself because I wasn’t fuckin’ with my shorty. It was Thursday, so I was going to fly my daughter home with me tonight and bring her back sometime Sunday. Like she weighed nothing, I scooped her out of her bed and held her in my arms. Her little arms wrapped around my neck, and her head rested in the crook of my neck.

“Where are you taking her?” I heard Tahira ask from behind me.

I turned to look at her, and her eyes were bloodshot from all that fuckin’ crying that she was doing.

“Home with me. I’ll bring her back,” I let her know as I stepped around her.

“How do you expect for Simon and me to be together if you’re telling us that he can’t be around Niya? That can’t work, Miami,” she said.

“Shorty, you walking around this bitch with a black and purple ass eye, busted ass lip, and your arms look like a fuckin’ cat done scratched your ass. Can your fuckin’ wounds heal first before you start questioning the status of your relationship with that pussy? Not to knock your parenting, but shorty, what type of example are you setting? You basically showing Taniya that it’s okay for a nigga to slap you around as long as he buys you something to eat afterward.

“I didn’t take you for the type of woman who would let a nigga put his hands on you, especially when you got a little girl watching your every move and wants to be just like you,” I voiced. My approach was calmer this time.

Tears fell from her eyes as she looked at me.

“I love him,” she whispered.

“It ain’t up to me to make that type of decision for you, shorty. As of right now, he can’t be around my child. Hopefully your wounds and shit will have healed by the time I bring Niya back home. Ima say this last thing before I dip, and you just ponder on this shit. A real man ain’t gon’ put his hands on you, no matter what. I’m pissed off with my shorty right at this moment as we speak. What I’m doing to her right now is hurting her more than physical because I chose to walk away.

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