Do or Die

14.

//Zonnique

A few weeks have passed and it's very awkward between Chris and I. We don't talk much and if we do, it's small talk about nothing. The longer I stayed here, I felt like I was wasting more of my time.

Right now, Carter and I were watching a movie in the bedroom. She was stretched out between my legs with her head laying on my stomach. I ran my fingers through her thick hair and she reached back and held my hand.

Chris had been gone majority of the day doing something with the club. I'm sure he had to tend to some other "business" too so I wasn't expecting him to come home anytime soon. The thought of him out doing that again made me sick to my stomach. It brought me back to what we had been through dealing with Rodney.

The danger surrounding what he was doing was enough to keep me up all night. I couldn't bare losing another life to drugs. Chris reminded me of my own father in so many ways. When he had his mind set on something, he wasn't gonna stop until he did it.

My dad wanted to give the best life to my siblings and I and Chris was trying to do the exact same thing for Carter and I. But what he didn't understand was that I was happy the way we were now. My dad worked day and night pushing cocaine around the entire west coast. My mom was always down for him though.

And that's where we are complete opposites. I don't condone drugs period, and I won't support it. I don't care how much money he makes or what he does with it. Anything that comes from drug money, I don't want it. I want to work hard for my own things and be able to spoil myself and my daughter. Not wait for the next drop to come in to go buy some designer clothes.

Thinking about my mom and all that she had done during my childhood along with my father angered me some. I hadn't spoken to my mom since the day my father died when I was 16 years old. Long story short, she lost my siblings and I and we all got put into foster care. At first, we were all together then they split us up. I hadn't spoken to any of them in years.

I blamed my mom for everything. My fathers death and us getting put into foster care and being split up. At one point, I remember my dad wanting to quit selling. My mom was the one who pushed him to keep going because she wanted to keep up the lifestyle. He did what she said because he loved her and us. But, a few months after getting back into things, he was killed.

After his funeral, none of us really talked to her anymore. She didn't care about us, but only cared about keeping up what my dad started. She took over his business and was rarely home. She would take all the money and use it for herself. My siblings and I would have nothing.

And if we had anything to say about what she was doing and how she was living, she would let us have it. My brother and I got it the worst because we would speak up for the younger ones. After months and months of the physical abuse, Child Services were called after we showed up to school with one too many bruises.

After that day, I promised myself I would never go through that again.

Chris knows my story and everything I went through. So I don't understand why it's so hard for him to understand why I hate what he's doing to himself. I'm not just nagging or trying to upset him. I just want what's best for him.

My phone vibrating on the nightstand pulled me away from my thoughts. I grabbed it and saw that it was just a text from Chris telling me to come open the door. I sighed and got off the bed, helping Carter down too. She held my hand tightly as we went downstairs. Through the glass doors, I could see Chris standing there with a bouquet of Tulips and some IHOP. Even though I tried to, I couldn't hide the smile on my face as I opened the door.