Chapter Six

Ayy bruh, (?) said five minutes away

Ight cool, it's good, pull up

Alright, bet

We ridin' Porsches in the rain

That lemon in my cup and I got ice up on my chain

They started skatin' on me since a youngin' got the fame

But I be stackin' paper, I be stayin' in my lane

We ridin' Porsches in the rain

That lemon in my cup and I got ice up on my chain

They started skatin' on me since a youngin' got the fame

But I be stackin' paper, I be stayin' in my lane

YBN Almighty Jay and YBN Nahmir "Porsche's in the Rain" blasted through the speakers in my road force RF25 G550. I sped down the highway with Dex in the front and Travis and Jigs seated in the back.

Today I gave them a full tour of Sunset Enterprise, they were all fascinated at how far my company came. I had the best of the best working for me. Jigs tapped my shoulder, handing me the half smoked blunt. I inhaled before blowing the cloud of smoke through the half cracked tinted window. Tonight we would hit the road, starting our drive to North Carolina. Driving was the best and discreet thing for the guys and I to do, we also agreed it was smart.

Becky agreed to holding it down, watching Ava for a few days. I just wanted to get this shit over with. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted all the smoke. My phone rang, pausing the music from playing. I looked over at the displaying caller ID, immediately hitting the red button. Diamond was blowing a nigga up way too much since the other morning. Within less than 20 minutes, we were pulling up into the driveway of my house. We all hopped out as I searched for my key to enter inside.

Ice came dashing to the front door, sniffing our scent as we walked inside. "Mane, gon get your hyper ass somewhere.” Travis bucked at Ice. “Don't be bullying my dog, G." I chuckled seeing how much Travis and Ice really didn't fuck with each other, I thought it would be Jigs to butt heads with the dog, but no. “Soft ass dog." He mumbled, causing me to smack him upside the head, playfully. "Travis frail ass don't want no smoke wit' my son ice." Jigs joined in. “Shut yo Soulja boy head ass up." Travis mugged him.

“Make me, you wanna be dread head ass." Jigs spoke, flicking up one of his now fully grown dreads that was dyed the color red. It was a new look for my boy. “Niggas be hating.” He shrugged, heading upstairs.

Ava and Becky were out shopping, so the house was a bit quiet. I removed my hoodie from my body, followed by my pink colored hat. I plopped my body down on the couch. Jigs and Dex proceeded to do the same thing as I flicked through the channels on the smart tv. This house never really felt like a home to me, maybe because it was so big and felt so empty. Or maybe because I didn't have my wife here, living with our beautiful children. I drowned myself in my own thoughts, thinking. Most of my days consisted of deep thinking, some days my thoughts would eat me alive. When you think about it, I'm the one to really blame. If I never exposed her to my lifestyle none of this shit would be happening. But, living wild came with no boundaries, nothing was off limits.

The alarm on my phone went off, notifying me that it was 5:30pm on the dot. Missing therapy sessions was becoming an issue, so today I asked my therapist to come over for a session. She gladly extended her outside office services and set up a time. Minutes later the doorbell rang, causing me to get up from the couch. Jigs was hunched over, fast asleep. While Dex texted away on his phone. Looking on the doorbell camera, I saw who I expected. "Thanks for coming." I greeted, letting her in. “No problem, thanks for calling." Her silvery voice spoke as she slipped me a smile. Tanya Lewis, known for having an outstanding clientele. It’s against the law to of course speak on her patients, but everybody knew some of the biggest celebs were going to her for all types of shit.

Leading her into the den, I closed the door behind us. I sat on one side as she took a seat across from me on the other side. I watched as she pulled the famous yellow notepad from her brown bag. “So, Izaiah, it's been a while since our last session." She paused, in search of her pen that was poking out of her bun. I pointed to the bun as she chuckled in embarrassment. “As I was saying, the last time we sat down was almost a month ago. Is there anything new you'd like to share with me?" She questioned sitting up straight in the leather couch. I debated on weather or not to share the news, but I knew I had to. "Well, my wife ain't dead." I said toneless, watching as her hazel eyes bucked.

Tanya is young, just 27 years old. But she carried herself well, she always wore the most expensive shoes along with the best designer suits. “Wow, that's definitely something new." She finally spoke after a minute of silence. "How does that make you feel? Have the two of you spoken?" She questioned.

Tanya is well aware that London is my wife and the events that went down on our wedding night. I bet she's sitting over there wondering what type of weird shit going on, well you and I both Tanya. “I don't know. It just feel weird as hell ta' me." I shrugged.

“Why does it feel weird?" She questioned, beginning to write on the notepad. I hated that what I said had to be written down, it felt like an interrogation, but it's just apart of her job.

"I mourned her for a full year, straight. And now she's alive, somewhere." I told her clenching my jaw. She didn't need to know the full extent, but I fed her little bits and pieces. “I think you should find a way to contact her, she owes you an explanation for causing such hurt. All marriages come with their own cracked eggs. It's up to the both of you to replace them." She spoke. I took in her words as our hour long therapy session continued to unfold.

  Don't let the pretty face fool you, I roll like a boss