Page 6 of Back in Blood

Never in my life had I ever referred to myself as weak, but that’s what I was. I felt weak when I needed three shots of tequila just to be able to go to the funeral home and make arrangements for Caprice. Robin wasn’t stable enough to do it, and I was going to pay for it. I couldn’t even make eye contact with the funeral home owner as we spoke about how I wanted to send Caprice off. I felt even weaker when I left the funeral home and drove straight to the hood in search of weed. I grew up with an alcoholic father, and that aided in my refusal to become addicted to anything. After years of not smoking or drinking, it was now all I craved. It was the only thing that kept me halfway in my right mind. I knew people meant well, but I was already sick of all the condolences and questions. I was also tired of people asking me about Robin. I knew she loved Caprice, and I knew she was hurting, but it would be a cold ass day in hell before I consoled her. Nah. She would have to get that from someone else.

I refused to tell anybody why they didn’t see me with Robin and why I didn’t know how she was doing. I didn’t have to explain myself to a soul, and I didn’t have to tarnish her character. The shit was what it was. She had her family to get her through. The hoe couldn’t even get a head nod out of me. I was far removed from the streets, but I knew a lot of people, making me good in any hood. Even when I was in the streets, I wasn’t a king pin or one of the richest niggas in the city. However, I wasstill well respected because no one could say I wasn’t solid. I was just a man that kept his word, minded his business, and treated everyone with respect until they proved themselves worthy of disrespect. After getting my ass kicked a few times in elementary school, I taught myself how to fight but the crazy thing was, once I learned and was confident, no one tried me, so I never even got the chance to show off my newly acquired skills.

When I pulled up in the hood at a guy named Ronnie’s house, he was already posted up outside talking to a female. Being that I had stopped smoking, I didn’t have his number, but I didn’t think he’d mind me popping up on him. I knew he was surprised to see me but along with the shock there was also pity. He knew. Of course he knew. Word traveled fast.

“What up, Capri man? Long time no see.”

I gave a curt nod. “My bad for popping up. I need an ounce if you got it.” Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even talk anything illegal in front of someone I didn’t know but unless shorty lived under a rock, she already had to know that Ronnie sold weed. And it was weed. I didn’t give a damn about her knowing that I was buying it.

“Sure thing homie. Follow me. I’ll be back,” he told the young woman.

I followed Ronnie in the house, and there was an awkward silence. I could tell he didn’t know what to say, and I appreciated him being quiet. I didn’t have anything to say, and I didn’t care for small talk. Ronnie filled a mason jar with large buds, and I could tell he gave me more than an ounce. I didn’t need anybody’s pity, but I didn’t care to open my mouth and tell him he didn’t have to do that.

“Take my number in case you need something, and I’m not here.” He extended the glass jar towards me.

I eased his money out of my pocket and then the phone. I gave him ten dollars too much, but I told him not to worry aboutthe change. My next stop was to get cigars. I glanced down at my vibrating phone and saw that my aunt Sheila was calling. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. During one of the worst times of my life, I didn’t have my parents to go to, a significant other, or a best friend. An angry chuckle pushed from my throat. It was all good though. I had a sister, two aunts, three uncles, and a set of grandparents that had been checking on a nigga. Whether I had one person in my corner or one hundred it didn’t make too much of a difference. All I really wanted was Caprice, and all of the hugs in the world, empathetic tears, kind words, and extra weed wasn’t going to bring her back.

I couldn’t even recall the last time I’d eaten, so I grabbed some snacks from the store. I didn’t have an appetite, but I felt bad enough. The last thing that I needed to be battling was a hunger induced headache. The cashier attempted to make small talk, but the only thing she got from me was head nods and grunts. I wanted to be left the fuck alone. Back at home, I tossed back a shot of tequila before rolling two blunts. I sat out on the porch and smoked thinking about how I’d never again see Caprice running, laughing, and playing in the yard. I had just finished my blunt when my eyes narrowed at the car pulling up in my driveway. I had to be hallucinating. The weed I smoked was surely playing tricks on me because there was no way in hell this nigga was bold enough to pull up at my crib.

But sure as shit, Dolph got out of his vehicle looking the way I felt. There was stubble on his face, and his eyes were low and red. He looked like he was going through it, and I didn’t give one single solitary fuck. My chest heaved up and down as his cowardly ass walked in my direction at a snail’s pace. It took every bit of restraint I had to stay planted in my seat.

“Capri man, I wanted to reach out. I know you’re mad, bro, and you have every right to be. I just had to come to you like a man an” that did it.

Dolph’s bitch ass actually looked me in the face and said he had to come to me like a man. That was the funniest thing that I’d heard in my life. I hopped up out of my seat faster than he could blink and rocked him with a right hook. A two piece followed, and the uppercut I sent his way knocked his ass off the porch.

“Like a man?” I jogged down the steps and sneered at him. “Like a muhfuckin’ man?” I kicked him in the side. “Who’s a man? ‘Cus it surely isn’t yo’ flaw ass,” I kicked him once again. “Get yo’ bitch ass up,” I gritted grabbing him by his collar. “I want you on your feet for this ass whooping.”

Dolph ended up on his knees. He was holding his side and struggling to breathe. I hit him again so hard that my knuckles cracked. The next blow sent blood pouring from his nose. The blow after that knocked him back on the ground. I stomped Dolph in the stomach just as another car pulled up in the yard, but I ignored it. I grabbed Dolph’s mangled face and squeezed his jaws.

“You’ve been smiling in my face this whole time knowing Caprice could have been yours. Sitting in my house. Playing with my child. I broke bread with yo’ ass,” I squeezed harder wishing I could break his face. “You’s a foul ass nigga.”

“Capri please stop.” Robin pulled at my arm, and I looked over my shoulder at her.

“Get your hands off me.” That was the only warning that she was going to get. Her mother stood off to the side watching.

“This isn’t the answer, Capri. Please, stop,” she ignored my words.

I let Dolph’s face go and stood up straight. When her hand remained on my arm, I pushed her. I didn’t push her nearly as hard as I could have, but I was strong, and I was angry. The light shove made her made her stumble a bit.

“Don’t put your hands on her!” Her mother yelled.

“Get the fuck out of my yard then,” I spat as I walked towards her. With wide eyes, Robin’s mother took a few steps back. “I didn’t invite any of you muhfuckas over here. Your daughter is dead to me. There isn’t shit in this house that belongs to her anymore, so get the fuck on.”

“My baby still has a lot of stuff here, Capri. I want her things. You can’t keep them all,” she cried.

“Watch me,” I gritted. “Ninety percent of the shit in that room, I paid for. Fuck out my face.”

“Capri, that isn’t right,” her mother stated in a low tone. I could tell she was afraid and didn’t want to piss me off too much, but she was taking up for her hoe ass daughter.

“There’s a lot of shit that isn’t right, and I have to deal with it. I’m going in the house, and I’m getting my gun. Anybody that’s still in my yard when I get back, is going to hell tonight. I promise you that shit.”

Robin’s mother tossed a look of contempt my way as Dolph peeled himself up off the ground. I went in the house and didn’t even bother to get my gun because I knew they were leaving. Every last one of them knew what I was capable of. I didn’t care about any missed calls or text messages, but I grabbed my phone anyway. My heart slammed into my ribcage as I saw that I had an email notification from the lab I got the DNA test done at. Weak. I felt weak again as I stood to walk over to the bar. I needed alcohol just to open the message. This weak ass nigga was foreign to me.

After swallowing the potent liquid, I stood at the bar and unlocked my phone. I choked back a sob as I read the results clear as day. Caprice was my child. She was my biological child. Another shot. And then another one before I finally stumbled into her room and fell onto her bed. The bed smelled like her. Like baby powder and something sweet. Weak. I was growing weaker by the second because the only thing that kept me fromactually getting my gun and taking myself out was the fact that I passed out on Caprice’s bed.

CHAPTER 4

LISA

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