HARDAWAY | trilogy

V3 - Chapter Twenty Eight.

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐎𝐍

"Nashawn; if you don't go answer that damn door."

Groaning under my breath, I listened to the knocking on the door and refused to mess up the peaceful slumber I was in. She nudged me with her foot continuously until I gave in, hardly tossing covering from my body and standing from the bed. I fixed my manhood in my boxer briefs before slipping on the basketball shorts resting on the floor and leaving from the downstairs room of the suite.

Past few weeks, me and Carmen been living in a two-bedroom loft suite at Sonesta Suites. We both didn't feel comfortable living under the same roof two men were killed by us with the kids and didn't want to live under my mother's roof with everything going on; only my children did. At least for week one before Boogie and my daughters were ready to be with us since Nashawn was the only one who could deal with my mother after a while.

My mother, Bernice Watson, older woman in her early eighties set in her ways; plastic on the couches, mothball and febreze spray in the air when you first walk into her house, knitting, gardening, made-from-scratch home cooked meals, her flip phone, and Judge Joe Brown playing nonstop on her old wooden Mitsubishi television from the 80s. It's only two people I know can deal with staying in her place more than a few days; Nashawn and my brother Prince, who still lives with her.

Ashanti was not about to stay anywhere there's no wifi even with her phone service on, Aurora follow everything she see her sister do, and Boogie not about to stay with anybody if it's not me or Carmen. So, our few days of being alone in the suite turned back into a family stay, which I was fine with. Even though Nashawn stayed with my mother.

Upstairs, it was double beds while the room we slept in was downstairs with a queen size bed. The fully equipped kitchen was to my left while the living room was to my right.

Someone continued to knock continuously on door as I approached. Opening the door it was Profit, which I assumed since he was the only one who knew where I was staying.

"Gotta pro'lem, homie." He walked in without an invite and patted my shoulder.

Tiredly, I closed the door. "Just come right in, Profit."

"Why ain't nobody up?" Profit asked and walking to the fridge. "It's ten in the mornin' fam. School start next week. I make sho' Camila up at eight every mornin'. She ain't boutta get used to sleeping all late and be cranky when she gotta wake up early when school starts." He mentioned, taking out a small bottle of Sunny Delight.

"Coo', whatchu doin' here?"

Profit drank some of the Sunny-D. "Ole' girl we was talkin' bout..." he trailed off and I nodded in remembrance, "she gone fam. Dip out early dis mornin' and Capri don't know where she at."

Hearing that woke me up fully. "Wait, wait, man, she was all the fuck we had. How he lose somebody that's on his fucking leash?"

"Ion' know," he shrugged. "Prolly heard his ass talkin' bout it. Wit out li'l mama, ion' know what to tell you. Her sister gone, too. It's nothin' we can do."

"It is something you can fuckin' do!"

His eyebrows shot up at my tone and walked towards me. He approached and shoved me to where I stumbled slightly. "Nigga, remember who the fuck you talkin' to. You done dis to you bout som' bitch you barely knew that you couldn't pull yo' dick out of. Now, yo daughter in the middle of dis shit cause what the fuck you pulled," he shoved my chest again, "you gon' be the reason why she finna be fucked up in the head cause you so fuckin' stupid!" He harshly whispered, shoving me once more.