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.But I wasn’t that type of nigga.When my enemy saw me, the rest had been already written.Didn’t these fools in the streets know better than to wake a sleeping beast? My sister’s boyfriend Glen was gonna feel my rage, too.Him and any other mafucka I suspected of causing me harm.They all would feel the rage inside of me, the thirst for blood.Cheryl had said that taking my money would make me nicer.Naw, bitch! It would make me even more of a killer than I’d been before.As the weeks passed, the weather continued to change.Daylight Savings had demanded time be set back an hour, making the days shorter and the nights longer.Giving a night stalker like myself even more time to hunt and capture the prey.So far, Little Gotti and his bleach blond, white bitch were outrunning their death warrants, but time is always on the side of the hunter.If my thirst for blood and revenge got too strong to wait, I could easily pay Glen a visit first.He was always easy to find, basically a sitting duck.Time had also taken the swelling out of my face and the soreness from my ribs.The gash in my head had healed, hair beginning to grow in its place.My jaw was still wired closed; otherwise, I was almost as good as new.Still I hadn’t been seen in the streets, causing mad rumors to circulate and take flight: I was dead.In prison.Running scared.Blah.Blah.Blah.I can’t say a few of the rumors didn’t vex me; a street nigga never likes mafuckaz to think he’s running scared.Unless it’s by design, and he’s just waiting to strike.I heard all the rumors from a distance, just biding my time.Time.It went backwards, it went forward, but it never stood still or waited for anyone, which meant the time had come for me to make a choice.Juanita and I watched the two men load the last of her bedroom furnishings onto the U-Haul trailer.One of the mover’s wives carried the bedside lamp and placed it inside the car that the trailer was hitched up to, making sure the Egyptian figurine-based lamp would be safe and out of harms way.The lady waved goodbye and got inside the car.Juanita was still waving goodbye long after the woman’s hand had dropped out of sight.I figured she was now waving bye-bye to the last of her furnishings, the last remnants of her past.Sold and gone were all the material things she’d once valued as much as her pride and dreams.The Dolce & Gabana dresses and sexy evening wear.The Prada, Yves Saint Laurent to the Cardin and the Victoria’s Secrets.The old Tommy Girl casual but expensive outfits.The leather and suede minis.The minks and other furs.The gator shoes, boots, bags and accessories.The shine, the ice—necklaces, watches, and rings.The flat screen television.The Gucci-printed sofa and loveseats.The china and gold silverware.Everything.Even the Viper was replaced by a used Toyota Cressida.“Well,” she exhaled, “that’s the last of it.”We walked back inside the house and its emptiness made the house look huge.Only the refrigerator, stove, and microwave remained in the kitchen.Juanita tidied up as she went from room to room making sure the house wouldn’t be left a mess when she turned it over to the new owners tomorrow.The sun had gone down when she finished tidying the place.A little exhausted and a bit sad, she sat down on the floor pillow next to me.I held her in my arms, neither of us speaking for a very long while.“You hungry?” she asked, breaking the silence.I nodded.I can’t even remember what she mixed up in the blender for me that night.I do recall that we were both tired and dozing off.Not really saying much of anything.Our silence carried the moment.Juanita was still waiting on my decision; I hadn’t yet told her she’d be leaving ATL without me.She’d asked me for my decision several times in the past few days.Each time I’d said I wouldn’t make up my mind ‘till the last minute.Maybe, deep down I was seriously considering leaving with her.She sat up and placed her hand on my chest, under my sweatshirt.Her fingers traced the scars left from the old gunshot wounds.“You’re not leaving with me, are you?” Her voice was low, but strong.Knowing.“I can’t,” I said.“I wish I could, but I can’t.”She didn’t say anything.She just got up and went into another part of the empty house.I assumed Juanita was mad, so I let her be.I lay alone on the pillow in the center of the den’s floor, wishing I was two people.One of me would stay in Atlanta and rule the streets.The other me would go with Juanita and try my hand at living legit.I could smell her Chanel perfume on the pillow.Damn!I’m trippin’.Since when did a thug, robber, and a killer get caught up in emotions? I started thinking about Shan, what caring about her had taught me: Never love them hos!I never loved Cheryl.Inez, I liked a lot, but didn’t love.Couldn’t love her.Didn’t know how.Juanita was standing over me.Wrapped in only a towel.She went over to the fireplace and turned up the flame.When she returned to me, she sat down on the pillow, and I caught a glimpse of auburn bush.She said, “I haven’t slept with anyone in months, and I’m not doing this to try to change your mind.I’m doing it because I’m scared I’ll never see you again once I leave.If I don’t, I’ll always remember this night.If there’s any such thing as fate, tonight will bring us back together.”She kissed my closed lips and began undressing me.I stood up, removing my jeans and boxers, and tossed them on top of my shoes and shirt.Juanita stood up and removed the towel.“Be gentle with me,” she whispered.“I’m not that big.”I’ve had my share of women and sexual escapades, but nothing could ever equal up to the thug passion I shared with Juanita that night.We didn’t make love over and over again, all night long.In fact, we only did it once, then fell asleep holding each other.But the shit was right, and it was something more than sex.There was silent crying coming from somewhere deep down inside of her as she held on to me, and I felt the wetness of her tears on my shoulder.I wanted to tell her I’d leave with her, just up and say, “Fuck the streets!” But deep down I didn’t believe that I could succeed at anything else.I didn’t know how to make “it” happen, unless it was with my heater.Juanita was running away from the very thing that I loved and craved, the streets.We just weren’t meant to be, I convinced myself that night.The morning brought its ugly ass around too goddamn soon.I watched Juanita pack her few remaining personal belongings into a single suit case.A dozen, or so, pairs of matching plain panties and bras, socks, toiletries.A few sweaters and a pair of jeans.A battered photo album and a folder with the words Supreme Mathematics and Alphabets written across it.She closed and locked the suitcase, and I picked it up to carry it out to the car for her.She was carrying the teddy bear I’d given her the first time she’d invited me to her house for lunch.She locked the front door and dropped the door key inside a locked box that sat on the porch.She had on old faded jeans and a baggy sweater was covered by a patched jean jacket.Her hair was in a simple ponytail and she wore no makeup or lipstick.Juanita was definitely leaving the past behind.Still, she looked beautiful, sexy, and divine.She kissed me on the lips and I tasted her tears [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]