Black (Drugs, Love&Money Book 3)

Chapter Eleven: New Money

I stood in front of my window, gun in my hand, waiting. Even though my father hired that dread lock dust bucket looking man, he hasn't been here yet. I've been waiting to see if that van will post up in front of my house again. I haven't seen it since the day I killed those guys. I'm still having flashbacks of me pulling that trigger. For some reason, this time was easier than previous times.

Thoughts of Cash flooded my mind. Out of all the things I've done over the years that I was queen pin, I regret that the most. I never understood why exactly I killed him. Never could remember what were my exact motives. Hell, if it was just for the territory, why couldn't we just run it together? That was just me being selfish I guess. He was the first man who helped me relax. He was my get away. And I took that away from myself.

The sound of a key being put into the lock on my door made me turn around, swiftly pointing my gun in that direction. My father walked through the threshold and put up his hands almost instantly. I forgot I gave him a key.

"God Jade! Put the gun down!"

"Sorry dad."

I put the gun down and he walked fully through the door. He raised an eyebrow at me.

"What?" I asked.

"Um, I think you're dressed inappropriate for company."

I had on a big t-shirt and a pair of my French cut underwear, with some knee high socks on. I had been dressed for bed, but never made it to sleep.

"Dad, it's just you."

The door opened again and in walked a man with a crisp tailored suit and some men and black shades on.

"Who the hell is that? Dad, you can't just be bringing people in my house."

"It's Malachi, what are you talking about?"

My mouth dropped in shock. Malachi had on a wrinkled suit, some dinghy shoes, and his dreads were in dire need of a re-twist when I met him at the interview. The man standing in front of me now, was well put together down to the socks. His dreads were nicely pulled back off of his face, giving me the opportunity to further admire it. His jaw was strong and chiseled, a small scar at the corner of his mouth. His eyes had a hint of blue around the pupil; something I never seen before. And then he smiled. Lord.

"Well dad, if he's gonna be my personal shadow he should get used to this view right? I'm not changing how I live in MY house, because you feel I need a baby sitter twenty four seven."

"I don't understand you sometimes, honestly. Let me show you where you'll be sleeping Malachi. When I'm done with that, Jade we need to talk."

Oh boy.

My father led Malachi down the hall to my guest room and I sat down on my ottoman in front of my couch. I felt like a lecture was coming that I kind of didn't feel like hearing.

Having a man in my space is something I don't think I will get used to. Even when I was living with my grandmother I felt like I was living alone, she was always so out of it. I became adjusted to being alone. I don't have time to be considerate of another person in my house. Even in prison it bothered me to be sharing a bunk. But this isn't a psychopathic woman wanting to shank me if I touched her things. This is a MAN. A big, strong, man.

My father emerged back in the living room and sat across from me.

"Yes dad?" I said while rolling my eyes.

"You can't be walking around here with ya cheeks sticking out. That is a man, show some respect for yourself."

"I might like my cheeks hanging out."

He mean mugged me and I laughed.

"But I'll tone it down dad. So what we have to talk about.?"

"When I was.....away, did you talk to your mother at all?"

"Yeah, she used to get in touch with me when she needed some money."

"And you gave it to her?"

"I broke her off a couple hundred, nothing too crazy. I didn't like doing it though. Felt like she never actually tried to be my mother."

He looked down at his hands like he was nervous.

"Dad, what is it?"

"Jade, I don't know how you're going to take this."

"You got back with her didn't you? Ew dad, that is disgusting! How can you do-"

"She's dead Jade."

I stared at my father for what seemed like forever. My heart felt like it was about to burst out of my chest. My stomach felt like it had dropped to my butt. My hands were cold as if I had ice cubes in them.

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.

"How?" was all I can manage to get out.

"Well, you know your mother had that drug issue. But from what I hear she was actually on the road to recovery. She met up with some old friends and one thing led to another-"

"How Dad?" I said more firmly.

"Somebody gave her some bad drugs. She was found dead in a hotel room. She had none of her stuff with her, no ID, no money, nothing. They called me to identify her body."

"Why did they call you? As far as she knew, you were dead."

"I went to see your mother after you turned yourself in."

I didn't know what else to say. I didn't feel any emotion off of what my father had said. And I didn't know if that was bad or not. How can I be hurt hearing about a death of somebody I barely knew?

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I dropped the hanging ashes from my blunt in the ashtray and whipped a falling tear from my cheek. I was more hurt at the fact that I never really had my mother in my life. From day one she didn't want me. So why should I give a rats ass that's she's dead? I bet she didn't even know that I was in prison. If she did she probably wouldn't care. I shouldn't have so much hatred in my heart but I do. Who just abandons their child like that? I took another long pull of my blunt.

"What are you doing up?"

I turned my head to see Malachi dressed in some basketball shorts and a t-shirt rubbing his eyes from sleep. I know it's going to take me a while to get used to the extra body in here. Especially because I'm so used to me being by myself. I still don't feel like the fucker can protect me but it does make me somewhat comfortable knowing he's here. But we will see how he handles the pressure of my life cause I damn near can't.

"I should be asking you that, right?"

"The smell of weed woke me up. I thought someone else was in here. I didn't know you smoked."

"It's a lot you don't know about me."

"Well why don't you tell me?"

He walked towards the couch and sat next to me. I rolled my eyes. I feel like he does more flirting than protecting.

"Oh, so I'm the one being interviewed now?"

"Well we are going to be around each other a lot so I might as well have some type of idea of who you are."

I snorted.

"Where to begin should be the question." I said more to myself than to him.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know who I am to explain it to you."

"Why don't you start with why you're crying."

I ashed my blunt then stood up.

"You don't need to know me, and I don't need to know you. Let's keep it like that."

I walked to my room, leaving him on the couch, and numbing myself to the situation.