Kismet 3. Raynesha Pittman
gone.
“Hold on, Dre, I’m about to open it, baby, I swear.”
Her swear bounced like a check from a closed banking account because two minutes later, I was still standing on the hallway side of the door. There was nothing but the hotel’s surveillance cameras keeping me from making my way in. Since I had already checked out my scenery and noticed the lights were as dim as they were, the cameras were becoming less of an issue. I was feeling tested. I felt like Savannah and her mama knew I wasn’t going to come through the door without them opening it first. They both knew I needed to keep my distance from the law and that my freedom depended on me doing just that. Shooting down the door would cause the workers at the front desk to call the police. And even if I managed to get in the room and handle mine, I’d still have to allow myself time to snatch up the videotapes from security before making a run for it. All these thoughts started to overthrow my better judgment and join forces in attacking my ego. My manhood was on the line, but so was my freedom. That “I don’t give a fuck” gene lying dormant inside of me had awakened from its coma and began provoking me to get in that room and handle mine the way I used to.
Ay, Dre, she probably in there sucking that fool up right now while you stand outside the door begging to get in like a little bitch. You’re trying to get in the room and ain’t nobody letting you in, not even her mama, and she supposedly on your side. That’s why Savannah doesn’t respect you now because you’re always doing shit the soft way. What’cha do, my nigga, give up your boxers for a thong while you were locked up? Man, you better teach that ho of yours some manners, then turn that nigga into shark food, and if her mama jumped ship and is back on Savannah’s side, give her ass an expiration date. Fuck yo’ changes.
My thoughts were on point, but I couldn’t allow them to get the best of me. I walked backward away from the door until my back was against the smooth surface of the off-white wall across from the room. I closed my eyes and tapped my gun on my leg to a tic-toc beat as I fought with my thoughts. Even though my blue jeans were a loose fit, I could still feel the strength in the metal as if my legs were bare. I had the power I needed to get in that room in my hand. I could also use it to gain the respect I was lacking from Savannah, but that would be taking the easy way out.
Like my pops had once told me, “Real respect is earned over time, not taken by force within seconds, son. Respect and fear are not the same things, Andre. You better learn that soon or die by the hands of those you thought respected you.”
My father’s words replayed in my head like a song on repeat. They were repetitive, and the exact warning I needed to remind me of my change. Mental pictures of me spending time with my kids as my father had once done with me began to play in my head like a slideshow. It was a fact that both of my kids’ mamas were trifling, and I refused to let my ego-driven actions stop me from raising them. My seeds needed to be nurtured, and if their mamas weren’t up for the job, I’d handle it myself. The slideshow I was watching of me being the perfect father to my children stopped abruptly as my inner demons gave it another go.
Think about it, Dre. Even if Savannah was in there fucking that lawyer nigga, five minutes was more than enough time to dress and answer the door. They’re probably looking at you through the peephole in the door and laughing at your weak ass. I never thought I’d see the day that a goon like Dre turned bitch. You might as well go home if you ain’t gon’ try to get in that room, you pussy.
That was it. I was getting more upset by the second, and it was getting harder to keep my shit at bay. My father’s teachings had faded out of my mind like they always did. My rebellion from him that started at the age of sixteen always sent me down the wrong path. I tried to convince myself that nothing was going on in that hotel room except for a mother blackmailing her daughter for money, which I was an accomplice to because a broke Savannah meant a dependent woman, or so I’m hoping, but that didn’t help. I tried telling myself over and over again that Savannah’s mama was in the room with them, and she was my ally on foreign soil.
Peaches was a general in my army now, and she would remain that way until she got her pay for services rendered. But if I were wrong, and she was in there double-crossing me, I’d make sure to ship her ass back to Kingston in a wooden box, toe-tagged up. Anger surged through me like electricity at the thought of it and caused me to aim my gun at the door again.
“Don’t make me shoot this muthafuckin’ door down, Savannah.”
That was my last warning yell. Savannah’s time was up. My thoughts had won. It was time to pull the trigger. I tightened my hand around the handle for a better grip of the gun, took two steps back, placed my index finger on the trigger... and squeezed.
Instantly, the door flew open, but the bullet wasn’t the cause of it. Peaches was. If I hadn’t been so anxious to shoot, I would have remembered the safety was on, and Peaches would be dead. She was standing in the door’s landing, smiling from ear to ear like she just hit the lotto with no knowledge of how close she was to death. My finger was still wrapped around the trigger, and my adrenaline was still pumping from the murder I had almost committed. I couldn’t return the smile she gave me. I was on edge and had yet to find out what the delay was in letting me into the room. My gun was in hand and ready to spit fire if anybody in that bitch made a false move. I wouldn’t forget the safety twice.
“Hey, future son-in-law of mines. I’m so happy to see you.” Peaches’s arms went spread eagle as she moved in for a hug. Once she made eye contact with my pistol, she froze in her stance. “Put that thing away, Dre. This ain’t hunting season, and there ain’t no animals indoors. Everything is fine, you crazy boy.” She turned her head to face Royce after saying her last words and shook her head. If she were trying to put fear in his heart, she had achieved her goal.
Royce looked sick with fear. He was nervous and fidgeting. I decided to keep most of my attention on him because I learned a long time ago that a scared person would kill you. I wasn’t up for being a scared nigga’s victim. When our eyes met, Royce swallowed so hard that his Adam’s apple sank into his throat and popped back out with the loudest gulping sound I had ever heard. If it weren’t for the lack of smell, I’d bet money dude shitted on his self.
Royce’s fear of me was well-deserved because looking at the clown from head to toe made me want to shoot him for doing his circus act with Savannah. Dude was a joke. I could tell by his dumb facial expressions. I almost flinched at him just to see if it would send him into cardiac arrest. I can’t believe my bitch had pleasured this ho of a man. To keep me from putting my gun up and beating his face in, I searched for meaning in Peaches’s empty words. She had said something about being my mother-in-law and rambled on about some other shit I wasn’t listening to. She was trying to talk in code, but I read between the lines. The smile she greeted me with and her words were confirmation that our plan had worked. Savannah had given up her last dime for a shot at forever with me. She had chosen her love for me over money. Miss Independent well paid professional who prides herself on what she’s accomplished on her own, put me over her banking account.
I can’t lie. I was feeling good inside at the thought that Savannah did truly love me, but Peaches killed it with that “in-law” shit. She could have left that part out. She wasn’t a mother-in-law of mine. How could she be when she wasn’t even a mother to her only daughter, Savannah? She abandoned her children to live the life that was best for her and never looked back. Peaches wasn’t a mother. She’s a snake bitch that slithers on two feet instead of on her stomach that I decided to do business with. That coldhearted old ho didn’t love anything except dead presidents printed on green trees, and her extortion and blackmailing of her daughter proved it.
When Peaches found out that Savannah was back spreading her thighs for every Tom, Dick, and Royce, she tried to sell me the information. But I wasn’t about to pay for it because I already had it. LoJack had put me up on the game for free. I tracked Savannah’s car to hotels when she told me she was headed somewhere else, so I already knew she was back passing out my goodies like Halloween candy. Her fight with ovarian cancer, that chick Keisha shooting her, then beating her ass for seeking revenge over childhood shit, and all the love I was showing her hadn’t taught Savannah a damn thing. She was too comfortable with getting her sewers piped by multiple