Chapter Three: Down for the count

It felt like yesterday to me as I sat back reliving the events that occurred a whole year ago. The happiest day of my life quickly turned into a nightmare. On the night of the shooting I, myself thought it was the end. The last thing I remembered was telling Izaiah I love him. I mean, I really thought I was dead. But this man had other plans for me, plans that I wasn't found of. “Why the long face?" He questioned, touching my cheekbone with his index finger. He’s sick in the fucking head just like his delusional ass sister. "Don't touch me!" I spat. “You might wanna tone that shit down. I won't have them remove the next bullet I put in yo' ass." He grilled me with those stone cold eyes. I'd come face-to-face with the enemy himself, only thing was I met him before. That day at the mall.

"Look, Chad I do everything you ask me to. Why am I still here?" I asked, fed up with the circumstances he had me living under. My days consisted of being tied up to a chair or a bed in some empty room, a basement like. Some days he would have me go out and pick up things from the market. But that was only under the terms that he had someone take me and bring me back. I wasn't allowed to speak to anyone, if I did he promised to put another bullet in me and go for my family next. It was a lot to process and deal with, especially since I lost the baby that night. The doctor was able to spare my life, just not my unborn innocent child.

I felt myself going into a slight depression, but I didn't allow myself to. I knew I had to remain solid and show no sign of weakness, my husband taught me that. “Don't worry about why you still here, just be thankful you still alive." He smirked, taking some papers from the dark-skinned dude with the scar across his face. “I have a daughter." My croaky voice cracked slightly. “So? Tiffany was the only flesh and blood I had left." He clenched his jaw, slamming the papers on the table. "That didn't stop yo' sorry ass nigga from shooting her." He sounded hurt.

"Tiffany needed help. She was becoming too much to handle, so he handled her." I shrugged honestly not feeling sorry for her crazy ass. He let out a few chuckles, walking closer to the chair I sat tied to. In one swift move he slapped me across the face. “Fuck you and yo' bitch ass husband, bitch." He spat, clearly triggered from my statement. After doing whatever he did, he left the room with the dark-skinned fella in toe. I could slightly hear the conversation they were having on the other side of the door. “What's the plan boss?"

"We still sticking to the same programming. As far as they all know, she dead." He smirked walking away from the door. My heart hurt and it felt as if I was going insane each day of being held here. I don't know what kind of sick plan Chad has in store, but I know it won't be nothing good.

*****

"Look! Look daddy! Look what I drew." Ava's voice echoed as her little foot steps could be heard entering the kitchen. Propping her up on the island counter, I took the white construction paper from her. “It's very pretty princess." I smiled moving her curly wild hair out her face. "Who is it?" I asked, smiling at the nice picture my baby girl drew. Ava is so smart and advanced for her age, it amazes me every day. “That's ice over there." She pointed to the dog in the picture who indeed was our dog. I got ice as a comfort dog for Ava four months ago.

"That's you right there, that's me in the middle and over here is mommy." She pointed as her tone slightly changed. She just misses her mommy, which is understandable. “Daddy loves it. I'm sure mommy will too." I told her pulling her tiny, small body into a hug. “I luh' you daddy." Her cute little voice spoke being silly. I giggled, placing a wet kiss on her forehead. "Daddy luh's you too, baby girl." Taking her down from the counter, I watched as she dashed back into the living room with ice on her tail. They were completely attached to each other.

Observing the picture again, I couldn't help but to think about the fact that my wife is alive. That's some absolute foul shit, but a nigga was relieved. I pinned the drawing to the refrigerator door with one of the ABCs magnet letters. Dex notified me that he was able to locate the exact area London might be, but I didn't want to hear might, I needed to hear that he was positive. My head still can't grasp how the fuck some slick shit like this was able to happen because the doctors assured me there was nothing they could do to save my wife and unborn child. My mind was all sorts of fucked up and the only things that kept me sane was my daughter and the magic of weed.

Fake people don't surprise me anymore, loyal people do.