Gangsta Lovin' || COMPLETED!

Chapter 11: Let's Do This

It had been two days since Michael had last seen or talked to Semaj. She had decided she needed a little time to think about whether anything between her and Michael should go any further. Michael was a person who was impatient towards any and everything he had to wait for and the fact that Semaj kept him on hold, may times he wanted to just say fuck it and keep it moving but something inside of him wouldn't dare let him make that decision. At least not know.

Michael was getting ready to visit his mother who hadn't seen since the Fourth of July and it was Christmas Day. The said thing about it was that Michael lived in the same city as his mother. He was tempted to visit her many times before, like the day he was drunk and ended up at Semaj's front door, and plenty of times after that but the days just wouldn't let him. His life wasn't where he needed or wanted it to be so he could properly be around his family.

His life was fucked up, and he knew this.

"Damn I said I was comin!" Michael yells before jerking open the door.

The woman in a navey blue pants suit with a short haircut and a straight face stood on his porch with a black bag hanging from her shoulder and a phone in her hand. That is until he yelled and jerked open the door. She lifts the cover of her bag placing the phone in one of the pockets before smiling.

"You must be Michael Jackson?" She asks holding out her hand.

"It depend on who wanna know.." Michael says eyeing her suspiciously.

He had a gun right in the linen closet if he needed and he was prepared to make a run for it.

"Tasha Fluellen. I'm your parol officer for the next three weeks."

"I thought I was 'possed to be meet you like last week.." Michael asks cocking an eyebrow.

"You were but it's obvious it didn't happen that way at all now did it?" She pushes the door open making Michael move back as she involuntarily steps inside looking around. "You have a nice place. Does anyone live here with you?"

"Nah" Michael says shaking his head and closing the door to keep out the cold. "I live by myself."

"What's your income?" She asks turning around and Michael smirks.

"As if you ain't know." He says walking into the livingroom. "My 'profession' is the main reason why you standin' in my house right now but take a wild guess. Whatchu think I do?" Michael sits down on the couch putting his arm across the back and Tasha chuckles.

"I'd like to hear it from your mouth Mr. Jackson." She says sitting down on the opposite couch and crossing her legs.

"I was a drug dealer." Michael answers honestly wiping the smirk from his face.

"Was?" Tasha asks raising an eyebrow. "Past tense.."

"Well of course I ain't doin' it right now. I'm tryna stay outta trouble not add more on to the load I already got."

"So what's your source of income while you're out of that 'career' field right now?" She asks putting her bag next to her feet on the floor and taking out a pad and paper.

"I got enough money save to the point where i can take a few months off." Michael shrugs.

"Mhm" Tasha hums scribbling on the pad. "Are you on any drugs right now?"

"Nope!" My exclaims popping the 'p.' "Drugs ain't for me."

"But you smoke marijuana?" Tasha asks looking up.

"Eh," Michael says chuckling and shrugging. "Every once inna while."

Tasha sighs placing her hand on the pad before looking up at Michael. "I need honest and complete answers Mr. Jackson. The faster you cooperate the faster I can get out of here. It's obvious you have somewhere to go. A girlfriends house maybe?"