Play with the money, turn Rocky into Rambo.
I was sitting on a motel bed with an unknown black bag full of money and drugs. Rakim was taking a shower and I was thinking; a part of me just wanted to toss the damn thing.
Get rid of it for good.
The other part of me said stay out of it, it's none of your business.
Fact is I wasn't mad because he had the bag; I was mad because he lied to me again. And this side business of his can be dangerous. It's better I know more than not enough.
Rolling around in bed I grabbed a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. What can I say; it was a no tell kind of motel, nothing fancy.
I leaned back, the chattering from tv audible in the background.
Blowing out smoke, I turned my head to the bathroom door when Rakim stepped out with a towel wrapped around his waist.
Raising my right brow, I sighed and leaned back on the pillow.
"Come on baby cakes, you can't be mad forever."
He said, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
I just rolled my eyes and pulled my legs closer, shifting to the side.
"Dita... look. I'mma tell you this the last time; it is what it is... I can't return the bag, I can't toss it. The guy owed me money and now I got it back. And you know this ain't got nothin' to do with you, so don't stress over it. Okay?"
"No. You don't get it."
I calmly replied.
"You knew it from the start; I didn't pull you in it before and ain't planning on that now."
I've heard this a thousand times.
"Rakim! I know what you're trying to say but you're not listening; I'm your girlfriend and whatever is a threat to you is a threat to me. I might not have much of a life but don't you think I deserve to know things; especially if I'm a part of this..."
"But you ain't!"
He raised his voice, furrowing his brows.
He never raised his voice at me before, not with that tone either.
"You with me, yes; but my business is my responsibility, it's my thing and I don't want you in it. The more you know the more you a threat to all this, use your motherfucking head!"
His jaw was clenched, he sighed loudly, grabbing a small vodka bottle from his bag.
"Nice." I sarcastically spat at him, putting my cigarette out and getting out of bed.
"Baby..."
He regretted his words right away but I was way too pissed to even look at him. I walked past him, headed to the bathroom.
"Fuck you."
I shut the door behind me and locked it.
I put down the toilet seat and sat down, burying my face into my palms.
I could feel tears already form in my tired eyes; I was so mad.
Why can't I get through to him, just make him understand?
We spent the rest of the night in silence, trying to get some shuteye. He managed to but I just stared at the ceiling, thinking about that fucking bag.
Why is he so damn stubborn?
When he woke up, we continued our drive home.
A few hours later I was already in my apartment, alone, watching some shitty horror movie on the couch, covered with the duvet I dragged from the bedroom.
After we got home, I told him I needed some time alone and he didn't really protest; he let me be.
I ordered take out and did some thinking in hopes of clearing my head.
Mission failed.
As much as I hate to admit it at times, I love Rakim. He's basically the only man that truly cared for me;
I couldn't just let it all slip through my fingers.
At around 11 PM, I was still awake; I decided to go to his place, talk to him and try to reach a compromise.
I knocked on his door and waited.
In my mind, I was putting together an apology; which was the least I owed him.
The door opens and I see his kind face, a wide smile on. It disappeared in a second when he looked into my eyes.
I heard laughing in the back, putting two and two together. I didn't even want to know which hoe it was, I just wanted to leave.
I could just die right there.
