The Stripper Chronicles Book Two (Urban)

Prologue

The Stripper Chroniclesx2

Chapter One.

Kolana'

Picking up the phone, the automated machine played. "You have a collect call from 'Dollaz, answer baby,' Do you accept the charges?"

"I guess," I sighed. She has already called over six times.

"Baby girl I'm so sorry, I love you. Please forgive me!" Dominique blurted out before I got the chance to even say hello.

Smacking my teeth, I sighed, "forgive you? Psh, are you kidding me?" I couldn't believe her boldness.

She continued to beg. "Come on, it's been fucking seven months. How many times am I going to have to apologize?"

Her lack of human-pain pissed me off. I was beyond furious. "You kilt my child, you piece of shit," I screamed into the phone.

"Watch what you say over the phone baby, you know what was up. I didn't mean to hurt you or our children!" She said, turning into the psycho she truly was. "Our children?" I asked, annoyed. I was truly flabbergasted.

"Yes, our children," she said confidently.

"Dominique, don't you ever, ever, ever claim my children. You are a horrible person, and as a woman, you should feel like shit for killing my child, whether it was from a monster or not. Do not continue to call me. I am going to change my number," I said sternly and clearly. There was no way she would not be able to understand what I saying to her. This way there would be absolutely no confusion.

"Baby, what the fuck, stop!" She begged out, clearly not getting my point.

"Rot in hell!" I said, tired of explaining myself.

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With that, I disconnected the call and turned my phone off. Regardless of my child being a product of Charles, the man who destroyed my entire life and killed the love of my life, as well as the unborn baby of Khyrell's. The child I began carrying from Charles' continuous drug-induced rapes, was still a child, none the less.

It still was a part of me; still my child.

I remember that day. I remember losing my second child just as vibrantly as I remember losing my first child.

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"So you pregnant by Charles?" Dollaz screamed at me with rage. I didn't speak. I kept my head down and continued to cry. How could I be so dumb as to not know myself well enough. How the fuck did I not know I was pregnant!

"Kolana', you need to fucking answer me. What the fuck is this about?" Dollaz screamed, snatching the Last Will and Testament out of my hand. Once again, I chose not to speak, I just nodded my head; tears still falling!

"Get the fuck OUTTA here!" Dollaz screamed. She was beyond angry, angry was an understatement. I took what she said and began to stand up.

"Where the fuck are you going?" she yelled, grabbing my arm and slamming me to the ground. I screamed in agony.

"You fucking cheated on me with my right hand man; after I got your dumb ass off drugs and helped you get your kids?" She spit on me and began to hit me repeatedly; over and over and over. She was hurt, that was obvious. But still, she must've not read the entire letter because I didn't cheat; I was raped multiple times.

"Please," I screamed, crying.

I went into protection mode of my child. I don't know why, honestly. I curled into the fetal position just like I have before.

"You're protecting that baby?" Dollaz raged out as she began to kick and stomp my ribs and stomach. I screamed and screamed, trying to get someone's attention! I felt myself coming and going into unconsciousness. She continued to kick, hit, and stomp my body.

I drifted off. . . All I heard was, "freeze, ma'am. Put your hands up."

Looking towards the light I began to thank God. God was once again saving me.

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Hanging up the phone, I wiped my tears that fell. I never imagined my life to be this way. Finally taking my foot off the break, I put the car into park and walked up the little steps to Deshawn's house. Taking a deep breath I temporarily erased the memories. Walking straight in, I followed the noise.

"Momma's Kings?" I yelled, smiling and extending my arms for my now six year old boys.

"Hola, momma," they said together. Rolling my eyes, they never failed to remind me that they are twins.

"Where's your uncle?" I asked, letting them continue their video game. Without answering with their words, they pointed in the direction of the back room. I walked straight back, following my six year old's instructions.

"What's up, Nappy?" I asked, watching him and Marlon pass around a freshly lit blunt.

"Next," I yelped out like an annoying little sister, plopping down on the bed in between the boys.

Walking into the room, Marlon asked, "How you holding up, sister?" Ashing the blunt of loud.

"I'm good now. Your little friend just called me, begging and crying and shit," I said, inhaling the goodness.

"Fuck that dyke ass bitch. She's lucky the police got to her first," Deshawn finally spoke. I laughed at him. "Shut up dude," I said, getting up and patting down the wrinkles in my pink polo v-neck. Repositioning my matching polo hat, I gave them both a hug.

"Ugly?" Deshawn yelled out.

"Huh?" I wondered, turning around and giving him eye contact.

"Don't forget momma is sending for us. You got two weeks to get shit in order. Houston .. here we come." He said a little too high and happy. I giggled and told them I loved them and went about my business, back to grab the boys. . .