Page 5 of Bullet

He spat blood from his mouth and mugged me. A bloody silly grin was plastered on his face. "I was tryin' to save yo' soft ass from more heartache, but since you so fuckin' persistent, I'll bulge. Crystal ain't here no more. Our family has shipped her away, and only Pop Pop knows where she is. So, you see, it doesn't matter how many punk ass tantrums you throw. You will never ever see her again. We will never see her again," he quietly responded.

I released him because I sensed he told the truth, and it was evident that he missed her, too. My heart ached, and my nose burned. I couldn't let this nigga see me mourn the only woman I'd ever loved. I threw his gun and then left the bathroom quicker than I came. Within minutes, I was out of the club and on my bike. My motorcycle ate the dirt road as my tears rolled down my cheeks. Them muthafuckas meant it this time. They really snatched my girl and shipped her off like she was some damn merchandise. I zoomed down the long, dark road until I made it to the river. My bike rested on the kickstand, and I shot my gun in the dark woods. I fired until I had not one bullet left. My custom Ruger clicked and clicked until I lowered it. I didn't care who was in them damn woods. My heart had been shattered into a million pieces thanks to her petty ass family. Now, how was I supposed to go through this life without her? I dropped to my knees with my tears as the only company I had at the moment. My first love was gone. Crystal was my highschool sweetheart, angel, and my reason to breathe. I no longer had access to my heart, and since I didn't, I was about to be the most ruthless, heartless, and coldest nigga that lived in Decatur. Today was page one of my villain era.

Four and a half Years Later:May 2025

I woke up with a late start today. I'd stayed up late, crying and reminiscing about the past. Four and a half years long ass years had gone by, and life wasn't the same without my Bulley. Arizona was already slow-paced, and it slowed down the healing of my heart. His smile, tight embraces, and our lovemaking sessions were ingrained in my memory. There was no way another man could ever compete with Bulley. I didn't even try to look for one. No other man deserved me or my love, only him. I tried not to harbor the possibility that he'd settled down with a woman and had a few kids. It was too painful to think about. So, I imagined he threw himself into his family's company, enjoyed his motorcycle crew, and lived a life of solitude like I did.

Well, that's what I tried to do, but it was hard when you had a four-year-old little girl who was just as rambunctious and rowdy as her mama. Clear Views gave me and her great-grandparents a run for our money every day. Some days, she was chill and civilized, but most school days and vegetables were her opps. Summer vacation was around the corner, and to be a preschooler, she was pretty excited for it to come. How in the world she was fed up with school already baffled me, but such was life.

It was late afternoon, and the sun didn't beat down on us too much. Living with Grandma Tula and Poppy was an adjustment period. I had to create a routine as a single mama and get to know my grandparents on a deeper level. Had I not been raised by my dad's side of the family first, I would've chosen my mama's parents every day of the week. They were retired accountants who made great stock market decisions. They were well off and lived a peaceful life. Mama's parents were from Decatur, IL, too, but after Mama and Daddy's wedding, they moved to Arizona. Daddy's side was a mess and drama-filled, and Grandma Tula and Poppy wanted to be away from all the nonsense. I didn't blame them.

As the only girl on both sides, they spoiled me rotten as well. Now that Little Clear was here, so was she. I wasn't completely discarded away. My bank account was loaded, thanks to Daddy and his guilt. Clear and I wanted for nothing financially. Things were different with Mama. She provided love and support and always came and stayed with us for half of every year. She'd recently left two months ago, and we had a time per usual. Our days were filled with shopping, fine dining, late-night movies, and fishing with Poppy by the river. Mama was a dutiful daughter and the best mom as well. She was a damn good wife too, but lately their marriage had been on the rocks. It was because of me. Had I been a better daughter, then she wouldn'thave to deal with him cheating and lying all the damn time. She deserved the same happiness and love I desired. One day, though, we'd have it.

I sat back on my knees and looked at the huge house on the left side of my grandparent's modest home. It looked damn near like a mini-mansion. I'd been contemplating buying it for the past two years. Something told me to buy it. I wanted to, but it was a home for a family. For now, it was just Clear and me, and it was too big at the moment, but who knows? I got back to work.

Minutes later, my grandparent's neighbor, Antonio, stepped out onto his back patio and gave us a wave. He owned the house to the right of them. Antionio was a fine middle-aged Italian man with olive skin and wore that comb over fade that white men enjoyed so much. He was over six feet tall and had a nice body and a charming smile. When he barbecued, he always brought us food, and we did the same.

"How are you ladies doing today? Nice weather for it to be late afternoon," he greeted.

"Hey, Antonio," I replied.

"It is a nice afternoon," Grandma Tula added.

"Hey, Tonio. I'm planting tomatoes," Clear sang.

He smiled broadly at her. "Is that right, little one? May I have one when they grow big?"

"Yes!" she voiced with more excitement.

"My girl. Well, I'll let you ladies be. Tell your Poppy I said hello," he stated.

"Will do. Enjoy your day," I responded. He nodded before walking back into his house.

Grandma Tula wore a look of gratitude on her face as she waved her favorite church fan against her dark brown skin. Her roller set was laid, thanks to me, and lightly moved every time she fanned herself. Grandma Tula was five-foot-two, yet when she opened her mouth, she talked shit like she was six-foot-eleven. Mama was definitely her child because they popped shit like nobody's business. The apple didn't fall too far from the tree because I was just like them and so was Little Clear. Lord knows she stressed her teachers out every day of the week with her little talkative and opinionated self. Grandma Tula relaxed in her reclined lawn chair, smirked at her phone, and then looked back at us. Clear helped me plant grandma's summer squash, tomatoes, onions, peppers, and cabbage. She was a great helper. Clear poured the seeds where I told her to and covered them with the fresh soil. Pretty soon, we'd be done and moved on to her favorite part, watering the garden. She went crazy and would wet up everything if we didn't wheel Clear in.

We continued to work and laugh until Grandma Tula's voice interrupted us. "You ladies are doing a great job. I can't tell you how good it's been to have you here with us, Crystal. I know things ain't right at home, but this is your home, too. Never forget that, beautiful girl."

I covered the last of the tomato seeds with soil before looking up at her. "Thank you, Grandma Tula, but you act like we're about to leave you and Poppy. I have no intentions of going back to Decatur willingly," I replied.

"Poppy and I love you, but you may not have a choice."

At her admittance, the patio door opened, and my beautiful mama stepped out onto the porch. She wore her usual big smile. Her now relaxed curls hung past her shoulders, and her curvy figure was draped in a nude and long maxi dress. A white blouse covered her upper body, which tied in the front. She looked timeless as usual.

"Mama! What are you doing back so soon?" I quizzed and removed my dirty gloves.

A blur sped passed me, and it was Clear hauling ass to my mama, her Bibi. Mama scooped her up in her arms and held her tightly. "Clear Bell! How's my little pudding pop doing?"

"I'm good, Bibi. I missed you so much," Clear expressed and kissed her cheek back. Bibi was Swahili for grandma. Grandma Tula already had her name, so it was only right that Mama got to choose her own title, and she chose Bibi.

"Aww, I missed my girls too," Mama voiced and placed Clear back on her feet.

"Not that we're not happy to see you, but what brings you back so soon?" I queried and stood to my feet.

Mama gave me a small smile before looking at Grandma Tula. I turned and looked at her.

"Come on, ladies. Let's take this in the kitchen with a cold glass of blackberry lemonade," Grandma Tula suggested and stood from her lawn chair.

"Okay," I stated skeptically.

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