Page 7 of Back in Blood

“Capri Towns,”I called out in a robotic tone. The last place I wanted to be was at work, but I was going crazy at home.

Sintonio had actually packed a bag and left town like a low life coward. He left me alone to deal with the news about our son, and he was running from the possible consequences of his actions. I loved Sintonio, and I knew he didn’t do it on purpose, but looking at him disgusted me. Nothing he did could bring that little girl back, but he had taken a baby’s life, and I didn’t know how I could look at him the same. Especially when he was handling it the way he was. We were engaged and had a baby on the way. No, I didn’t want him in prison, but I felt for that little girl’s parents. How was I supposed to go on living this happy life while they were grieving? My life was anything but happy at the moment, but if my child survived, that would be all that mattered. Possible delays and all, he would be mine, and I would love him with my whole heart. While that child’s parents had to live without her.

I literally felt as if I was losing my mind. One of the nurses checked my blood pressure when I arrived at work, and I had to beg her not to send me home because it was elevated. I couldn’t go home. The silence and being alone was driving me insane.The tall, handsome, man that walked towards me with hollow eyes sent a chill down my spine. He was handsome as hell, but he was scary looking. The darkness in his eyes made goosebumps line my arms. His irises were void of life. There was no emotion. He looked like I felt. I swallowed hard at the serious expression on his face and the way his lips were set in a hard line. The moment he neared me, I smelled the alcohol on him. He was well dressed and fine but clearly going through some things.

“I’ll be assisting you in triage room number three,” I forced a small smile.

One thing about being at work was it reminded me that I wasn’t the only one going through bullshit. The first person I saw when I got to work was a young woman having abdominal pain, and she came in with her boyfriend. She thought she might be pregnant, but it turned out she had gonorrhea and chlamydia. She turned her boyfriend’s ass every which way but loose, and I took my sweet time calling security. I looked over the chart in my hand.

“You broke your hand?”

“I’m not a doctor, but that’s what it looks like,” he grumbled. “I can’t feel my fingers, and it’s swollen.”

I put gloves on and gently examined his hand. I didn’t have to be a doctor to know that it was indeed broken. I sat down at the computer after taking his vitals and asked him all the necessary questions. “How did you break your hand?”

“On a nigga’s face.”

I cut my eye at him before typing a work appropriate response into his chart. Yeah, he was going through something for sure. I finished up and gave him another forced smile. “The doctor will be right with you.”

I left the room and was almost knocked down when one of the nurses, Jamila ran up on me. “Girl, what is fine ass Capri in here for?” She asked in a hushed tone.

“He broke his hand,” I stated with a slight frown.

“I feel so sorry for him,” she shook her head. “His little girl was the one that got shot the other day. He loved that little girl. Capri was a good ass father.”

It felt as if a rock became lodged in my throat. I had to grab onto the edge of the nurse’s station to steady myself. His little girl. The man that I was engaged to killed his little girl. It felt like I was going to be sick.

“You good?” Jamila frowned. “You got pale as hell all of a sudden. You need to sit down?”

“No, I’m good. I just,” I grabbed my belly. “That’s hard to hear. Maybe that’s why he said he broke his hand on someone’s face.”

“Hmph,” Jamila kissed his teeth. “That’s probably far from all that he’s going to do. Capri used to be like that. People didn’t play with him. When his daughter was born, he left the street life alone, but I know it’s still in him. Whoever shot his daughter might as well go ahead and hang themselves.”

I didn’t talk too much about my personal life at work, and I rarely added anyone from work on my social media. Very few of my co-workers knew Sintonio by name or even what he looked like. It would be horrifying and utterly embarrassing, if his name got caught up in gossip and rumors. I didn’t want my name attached to anything that had to do with that baby’s murder. Was I guilty because I knew he did it, and I didn’t call the police? My head was spinning, and I didn’t know what to do. Maybe going to work hadn’t been a good idea. I couldn’t face him again. There was no way I could go back and look that man in the face. The pain was radiating from his pores, and my man was the cause of it.

“Can you finish him up for me? I need to sit down for a bit.”

“I sure will,” Jamila pulled lip gloss from her pockets making me shake my head.

There was no way she believed that man would be interested in her when he was going through what he was going through. Some people were real life idiots. It felt as if the walls were closing in on me, and I had no idea where to go and what to do. Were Sin and I still going to get married? My life had been completely turned upside down in a matter of days. Crying didn’t help anything, but it was all that I knew to do. I was tired of giving myself migraines from crying, and getting myself worked up wasn’t helping my blood pressure at all. No matter what I was going through, Capri was going through much worse. I didn’t pull the trigger that took his child’s life, but I knew who did, and that made me feel like the scum of the earth.

Had it been my child, I wouldn’t have cared if it was an accident. There was no way anyone should have pulled out a gun and shot aimlessly no matter what but especially with kids being around. What Sintonio did was selfish, and reckless. That child’s parents deserved all the sympathy. Locking myself in a bathroom stall, I put my face in my hands and prayed. I prayed harder than I’d ever prayed before because everywhere I turned, things were spiraling out of control. I prayed for Capri and his child’s mother. I prayed for my unborn child, and I prayed for myself because I was really close to losing it.

My phone vibrated in the pocket of my scrubs. Waiting until I was done with my prayer, I eased the device out and looked at it. It was a message from the number that my lash tech used for appointments. There was a message stating that she was off until further notice and any deposits that had been paid would be refunded. Lashes were the last thing on my mind, so it didn’t really matter to me. As I slid my phone back inside my pocket, my knees buckled. Robin had been doing my lashes for the past ten months or so. I remembered her vividly at one appointment talking about how her daughter Caprice was a daddy’s girl. Caprice and Capri. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Was Capri herchild’s father? God when was this nightmare going to end? Things kept going from bad to worse.

Two days later, I watched Sintonio with a blank look on my face. He was staying an hour and a half away with his cousin in Stone Ridge. He’d been in contact with a few people from home, and they told him that his name had been mentioned as the person being with Tay, but no one was for sure who shot the little girl because some of the people that jumped Tay had guns too. The police hadn’t been by our house in an effort to question Sin, so he was hopeful that he wasn’t a suspect. He knew he couldn’t stay in Stone Ridge forever, and he asked me to just bear with him for another two or three days and then he’d be home. I didn’t even have a response.

“Why you just staring at me not saying anything?” Sin looked like shit, and I could tell that he’d been stressing. The bags underneath his eyes were huge. The slight musk wafting off his body also made me aware that he hadn’t been on point with his hygiene.

“A doctor actually suggested to me that I terminate my pregnancy. I have to deal with our son’s diagnosis alone because you chose to do some dumb shit, and now you’re running. What about our child?”

“What the fuck is worrying going to do, Lisa? At this point, stressing won’t change what the doctor said. If you don’t want him to suffer or possibly watch him die, then get an abortion.” He made the statement as casually as if he was talking about the weather. My breath hitched in my throat and tears sprang to my eyes. He said the shit with no emotion.

“I can’t believe you,” I looked him up and down with disgust. “The doctors can only speculate on what his life will be like. Doctors are wrong all the time. What if he lives, and he isn’t as bad off as they say he is? You really think I’d end my pregnancy, and I’m damn near six months? My baby is moving as we speak.”

“Then don’t do it,” he shrugged passively. “But I’m going through some real shit. This isn’t the best time for anything that’s going to require a lot emotionally.”

“So, it’s my fault you were on some fake ass gangster shit and murdered a child?” I shrieked making his eyes ballon from horror.

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