𝐒.𝐋.𝐔.𝐓 ★★ T.K

chapter thirty-eight.

★

I walked out of the bathroom.

It had been around an hour. After my call with my aunt, I had a quick shower.

I walked out into the bathroom, pulling on my shirt from before. I looked over to Tom, sighing. He was passed out, fast asleep.

I sighed, rubbing my nose bridge and watching him stir slightly.

"Mm," he inhaled, lifting me on top of him with his eyes slightly squinted. "that was a hell of a long ass shower, no?" he mumbled, his head going into the crook of my neck. I shrugged.

"I'm visiting my aunts tomorrow."

"Alright," he spoke. "I can take you. I have business anyway." He said as he sat up, placing me in his lap.

I stared at him.

"Come on, ma.." He sighed, tucking some hair behind my ear. "Listen, it's not a large thing. The guy owes me money."

"No guns?"

He pursed his lips, looking away. "Tom, come on, man? You want a kid but we can't even go out without bringing a gun for protection." I whispered, my hand going to his cheek. "Don't do this. For me."

He stuttered a little, looking down.

I pulled away, my eyebrows slightly furrowing. I slid off the bed, and left.

𝐓 𝐎 𝐌

I knew I wasn't gonna be around for much longer. Just, God. She can't fucking trust me, can she?

I put my head in my hands, groaning a little.

The deal was my last.

And it will all come down to Fiona in the end.

She just doesn't know that.

"Fiona," I exhaled, standing up and following behind her. She went into the bathroom, locking the door.

"Go."

"It can wait, Fiona. Open the door."

"Go, Tom. Your fucking rivals await you."

"I-"

"Fuck off!"

I looked down, nodding slowly with a large exhale.

𝐅 𝐈 𝐎 𝐍 𝐀

l put my head in my hands, leaning over the sink with my temples throbbing in frustration. I wasn't as ready as I thought. A baby? what was he thinking!

I slowly approached the door, pulling it open.

Tom was sat against the side doorframe, looking up at me with disappointment.

"Do you want a baby, Tom?" I mumbled.

"Come on, Fiona.. I don't know? I just," he breathed out, his head in his hands. "Would it really be so bad having a mini me running around?"

"A ghetto rug rat." I sat down across from him, my arms crossing over my stomach. He laughed a little, looking down.

"Look at me." I muttered.

He looked up, lips pursed in hesitation.

"Are we really going to do this?" I sighed. Tom bit his lip piercing, turning and twisting. I swear it was ripping out of his lip from how hard he was doing this.

"Get up." I stood, pulling him to stand. He followed behind me into his room. I sat down on the edge of the bed, patting my legs. He sat down on the floor, his head in my lap.

I grabbed whatever was greasy enough to undo his cornrows. I put it over my hands, tugging his braids undone slowly with hard rips and grunts.

"Auh, auh, ma, you're hurting me," tom groaned in pain, his head throwing back with each pull and his fingers digging into my thighs.

"We need out of this gang shit if we're gonna have a kid."

"But do my rows have to go?" He sighed, muttering in German as I ripped his braid roughly, making him wince and whimper.

"Yes, Tom. You're a 20-year-old white boy with cornrows. You think you're a 'brother' but you're not."

"I better get my dick sucked after this."

I slapped his head, hearing him laugh.