Your Man Chose Me (24 page)

“Yo, B, my girls and my son are everything to me. This bitch keep playing with me. I'm already tight as fuck 'cause of that stunt that ho pulled the other day.”

“I understand all that, but you need to keep a level head so you can figure out how to get out of this case.”

“Man, these people ain't got shit on me, B. I swear, that fuck nigga Detective Robinson been trying to pin some shit on me and my niggas for a while now.”

“I tell you what, you need to stop worrying about these niggas. You got your family; that's who you need to be loyal to. For real,” I spat.

“Ma, chill out, a'ight?”

“Chill out? Do you have any idea how bad this shit is? You're facing a lot of time, possibly life. And you telling me to chill out. I told your ass from day one I wasn't with this shit.” I started to cry again.

“Ma, listen, I didn't mean anything by that. Tiana, I love you and this shit is killing me, just seeing you hurting like this. Ma, please wipe them tears. I know this don't mean a lot, but I want you to know I didn't do anything to intentionally hurt you. I love you, ma, and truth is I have no idea how this shit going to turn out, but I need you to know that I love you with everything in me.” A few tears dropped from his eyes. He didn't even try to wipe them away. Instead, he just them flow.

Seeing him like this did something to me. I knew he was hurting inside and, as his woman, I felt helpless. “I think Ayana switched on y'all!”

“What make you think that?”

“Because I do. I can't say a lot right now, but I think so.”

“Visitation over,” I heard a guard yell.

“I love you. Please take care of yourself out there. Don't trust none of these niggas or bitches out there. These motherfuckers are grimy as fuck.”

“I love you too and I already know that.”

“Let's go,” another guard yelled.

“A'ight, ma. Kiss my li'l man for me.”

I walked off in a rush. I swear, I couldn't take it anymore. Something had to give!

CHAPTER SIXTY
-
FOUR

I lay on the carpet in the living room, finishing up my sixth glass of Moscato. That visit earlier did a number on my heart. My chest tightened up on me as I wept silently. Just a few months ago, my life was not perfect, but it was somewhat normal. I should've known that things were not going to stay that way for long. As I lay there thinking and indulging in self-pity, I couldn't help but think about the bitch who started it.

Yes, that bitch Ayana. This bitch shot me and now I knew she was bragging about it. I also bet my life on it that she was the confidential informer they talked about. My body temperature started to rise and my hatred for that ho intensified. I took one last gulp of the wine. Wicked thoughts were invading my mind. I tried to block them out but I couldn't. I thought about killing myself to stop the pain, but I couldn't leave my baby without a mother.

“Micah, I need you, baby! I swear I need you,” I cried out.

I slowly got up and walked up the stairs. I was about to grab my gun; instead, I ran to Micah's drawer. I wasn't sure, but I thought he'd always kept a gun in his drawer. It was my lucky day; there was a .380 up under his underwear.
What else this nigga has in the house?
Now wasn't the time to go snooping. I grabbed my oversized sun hat and a pair of my Gucci glasses.

I then ran down the stairs and looked around. Micah kept a gasoline can. I found it and grabbed the lighter.

On my way to this bitch's house my mind was blank. My cell phone kept ringing, but I didn't want to talk to anyone. I was on a mission.

I parked by the curb and looked around, grabbed the gasoline can, and then I got out. I ran up the driveway. I almost stumbled. I was drunk, but that didn't stop me from making my way up the driveway. I knocked on the door, and waited.

“Who is it?”

“It's your neighbor from three houses down. I need to talk to you about a few break-ins in the neighborhood,” I said in my best elderly voice.

“I didn't hear about no brea—” She opened the door.

“That's right, bitch, there are no break-ins.” I pushed the door with all my might. I almost fell on my face.

“Bitch, what the fuck you doing at my house? You must come for another ass whupping.” She took a step toward me.

“Back the fuck up, bitch!” I pulled the gun out of my purse and pointed it to her head.

“Hold up! What the fuck you think you're doing? Put that shit down, bitch.”

“See, that's your problem, Ayana; you always think everything is a joke. No, bitch, this ain't no joke.” I took a step closer to her.

“Man, T, we sisters, boo. You goin' to let dick come between us? This me, T.”

“Bitch, you ain't my motherfucking sister. Matter of fact, you ain't shit to me for real.” Slap! Slap! Slap! I slapped her across her face three times with the butt of the gun. That bitch grabbed her face and fell to her knees.

“No, get up, bitch! I begged you to leave me and my man alone, but you kept bothering us.” I used my foot to kick her ass dead in the face.

“Oh my God, you trying to kill me! I swear, bitch, you better not let me live. I'm going to beat your motherfucking ass,” she said through clenched teeth and leapt toward me, knocking me to the ground. I regained my footing and aimed the gun at her.

“I didn't plan on it!” Pop! Pop! Pop! I squeezed the trigger and fired into that bitch's face and torso. In that split second, I went from being a wife and mother to a cold-blooded killer!

“Help me,” she managed to say before falling backward, knocking a lamp to the ground. “Help me, sister,” she said while gasping for air.

I stooped down beside her. “Nah, bitch, the only person who can help you is God.” I stood up and put the gun to her forehead and squeezed the trigger.

I quickly grabbed the gasoline can and started sprinkling gas everywhere. I was nervous, so my hand was trembling. I tried not to get any on me. I then walked into the living room and sprinkled some on the couch and the carpet. I checked her pulse; she was dead. I threw the rest on her. I then lit the fire. The smell of flesh burning quickly illuminated my brain. I needed to get out of there.

I nervously opened the door and slowly walked down the hill and got into my car. I slowly eased off her street; then I picked up the pace. I looked in my rearview mirror and I could see fire and smoke spreading. I should've felt nervous, but no, I felt relieved. I felt like a big weight had lifted off my shoulders.

The saying was true: “I'm no killer, but don't push me.” Because I had to end that bitch's life and let her know who the man chose!

As soon as I was far away from her condo, I pulled over and took my shirt off because spots of blood and the smell of gasoline were all over it. I pulled over by an abandoned building, and lit the shirt with a lighter. I stood there as it burned. I think I was trying to bide time to figure out my next move. I was a bit sobered up and reality was setting in.

I got back into my car and pulled back on the street. I was crying as I tried to figure out what I was going to do. I wished Micah were here to hold my hands, but the reality was he wasn't here and I was all by myself. I had to put on my big girl panties and figure it out. I had some money that Micah had in an account for our son, or an emergency. I needed to go home and pack some things and get my son from his mother.

I pulled onto my subdivision, and an eerie feeling came over me. The closer I got, the queasier I felt. I saw a crowd of people standing outside. I drove closer and saw that there was a raid going on at my house. I didn't stop. I kept driving as the tears flowed heavily. I pulled out my phone and called Micah's lawyer.

“Mrs. Caldwell-Brown, I've been trying to reach you.”

“About what?” I nervously asked.

“I got a tip that the police were going to raid your home and I wanted you to get out of there.”

“What are they looking for?”

“They got a tip that most of the drug money was up in there.”

“Really? Well, thank you. I got to go.” I hung up the phone and turned it off. I decided to grab my son from his mother's house.

* * *

I looked around as I got out of the car. I was nervous because I knew by now Ayana's body was found and they would be looking for her killer.

“Hey, baby,” Miss Debra greeted me.

I fell right into her arms crying.

“What's wrong, baby?” She hugged me tight.

“Ma, I need to go! I did something to Ayana,” I cried.

“Baby, go, don't worry about the baby. Your mama got you. Do what you have to do, then call me one day when you feel like it's safe. Go up North; we have family up there. I'm going to call my brother now and he will be there waiting for you. Do you need money?” Before I could respond to her question, she started talking. “Be careful of these phones. I'll talk to my son when he calls. Just be careful and trust no one outside of my brother. You hear me?”

“No, I'm good, and I understand you,” I said and walked toward the back, where my son was sitting down watching television. I knelt down beside him and broke down. I took his hand and just cried. He was my world; how would I leave him behind?

* * *

I left for Landover, Maryland, and stayed there for a while. Being away from my son was killing me slowly. I followed Micah's case slowly and, exactly eight months later, he went to trial. He was convicted of possession of a firearm, but was found not guilty on all other charges. The state's main witness was found murdered and they had no physical evidence against him. Mari stepped up to claim the drugs and guns that they found in the house. They offered him a plea for fifteen years, which he gladly accepted. His lawyer told me Detective Robinson wasn't too pleased with the plea deal.

I jumped for joy the day his mother called me from the courthouse. Later that night I got a call from him.

“Hey, babe,” he said sounding like the Micah I met in the beginning.

“Yes! You did it!” I couldn't contain my excitement.

We ended up talking until the phone was cut off. I was genuinely happy for him, but I wondered if the police would be looking for me. I stayed in contact with the lawyer, but nothing was mentioned. I kept a low profile, spending the money Micah had stashed in our son's name.

He was sentenced to five years for the gun charge, but that was nothing compared to what he was facing. I knew someone was watching over my family and for that I was grateful. Lori and I became close friends and we keep each other motivated.

I made Maryland my new home; after all, I needed a change. My son was growing up, and Georgia's streets were not safe. What can I say but the man chose me and that bitch Ayana did not get him. In the end, our love for each other kept us grounded.