Down With the King of the South 4 Read online

  I stayed up with her for another ten minutes or so, just talking. The last thing I remember doing was reaching over and grabbing my phone from the nightstand, just to see if I had a text message or anything from Miami. When I didn’t, I called it a night. Right there in my grandma’s bed, I ended up falling asleep.

  Toddrick “Miami” King

  A month ago, I ended up buying Taniya her own phone, because, for months, her little ass had been asking for one. Lil mama didn’t want just a regular phone either. Her little butt wanted the same phone as me, which was the iPhone XS Max, or in her words, “the phone that unlocks with your face.” Because I was in a position to buy anything that my daughter would ever want or need, I went ahead and made that happen for her. Tahira had set the phone up for her and everything, and I swear that little girl calls me more than my own shorty.

  The moment her eyes opened in the morning, she was calling me via Facetime, checking up on me, just to see how I was doing and how I’d slept the night before. Although Taniya was too young to type out her text messages, she would send me audio messages throughout the day, letting me know that she loved me or just trying to figure out what I was doing. One of her favorite things to ask me was when I was coming to get her. I hated when baby girl had to go back home to her mama, and now that the job Tahira had taken in D.C. was over, she was back with her mom for good. Now, I only got her for breaks from school.

  The phone that I’d gotten for her was probably one of the best things that I’d ever gotten for her because now I didn’t have to use Tahira as the middleman, just for me to speak to my child.

  The phone call that Taniya had made a few hours ago had me on a fuckin’ private jet to check some shit. My daughter called me irate, emotional, and I could hear it in her voice that she was scared as hell. She kept saying over and over that her mama’s fuck ass boyfriend had punched her mother in the mouth. Not only was she scared for Tahira, but she was crying, telling me to come and get her because she was scared that he was going to hit her too. As if shit in my life wasn’t already toxic, now I needed to deal with this shit.

  When it comes to Tahira, at the end of the day, that’s the mother of my child, and because of that, I was doing what I was supposed to do. If she wasn’t right, then my daughter wasn’t going to be right because she wouldn’t be able to physically care for her the way I needed her to while I wasn’t there, so this trip was called for. I would be a lame ass nigga if I didn’t do shit about it. Now, if I went over there and Tahira decided to fuck with dude after this, then that was her choice, but from here on out, she couldn’t have that nigga around my daughter. If I found out that she did, then to court we go!

  My daughter was afraid of that nigga. I heard that shit all in her fuckin’ voice while we were on the phone. Tahira didn’t even have the slightest clue that I was on my way to see her because Taniya had run into the bathroom and called me, and I told her not to say anything about me coming. I was already skeptical at the beginning about Tahira having another nigga around my child. But because Tahira had never given me a reason in the past to doubt her mothering skills, I didn’t even trip about the shit when I found out from Taniya that her mama had a boyfriend and she was around him at times. Any comfort I felt about another man being around my child had gone out the window from the moment I received that phone call, and I heard that damn panic in my daughter’s voice.

  The whole plane ride, my mind was on my ole boy and my shorty. I felt like from the moment I found out about him having cancer, the shit had pretty much increased. He wasn’t in good shape, and just like years ago when I lost my ole girl to this same deadly disease, I was mentally preparing myself for his death. My actions lately, mixed with my words, were all things that came from me getting myself prepared for that gruesome day.

  Let my shorty tell it, I didn’t give a fuck about her or my baby. That wasn’t the case at all. I’ll be the first to admit, that yes, I was madder than a motha fucka with Shae. I wasn’t about to sugar coat shit. She fucked up, and right now, a nigga needed some fuckin’ space. I didn’t like how she grew so fuckin’ comfortable to look me in my eyes and lie to me like that. Literally stood her ass right there and lied to me about why she’d changed her phone number.

  Granted, I knew her ass was lying, but I also knew that she would slip up, and the truth would one day come out. And, sure enough, it had. It was too much protecting of that nigga in this relationship, and I was sick of that shit, man. Any other nigga would have been left Shae because, from the fuckin’ beginning, I felt like she was still holding onto something with his ass. I was giving her space right now to figure out what the fuck she wanted to do because she couldn’t have both.

  In the beginning, I let shorty have it too fuckin’ easy. I didn’t even give shorty an ultimatum. Now, I was giving her ass one. I didn’t want her fuckin’ with that nigga, period! I didn’t even want her calling to tell the fuck nigga happy birthday. She couldn’t do shit with him, and I meant that. If she couldn’t agree to that shit, then she made her choice, and whatever we had is a fuckin’ wrap.

  The private jet that I was on had finally landed, and the car that I’d rented for the next couple of hours was already waiting for me. I came to L.A. with nothing but the clothes on my back, my phone, and my wallet. I knew the way to Tahira’s home from the airport, so I floored it to get to her because I was hoping to get to the nigga before he left. I would wait for him all fuckin’ night if I had to. It was going on one in the morning in L.A., so who knows if that nigga had left, and if he had, who knows if he was going to come back.

  The whole drive, I whizzed in and out of traffic with the music turned down low and all types of thoughts registering in my head. Before I knew it, I was pulling my car into the big development of nice ass houses where Tahira lived. There were two cars in the driveway, which both belonged to her, and I pulled my car right behind them both. It was a little cool out, so I zipped up the gray, polo hoodie that I had on and walked up the big driveway and over to the front door. I banged on that bitch with a purpose.

  It took about two minutes, but the front door had finally swung open. When Tahira saw me standing on the other side of the door, I could see in her face how shocked she was.

  “Who the fuck did you expect it to be? That nigga?” I asked, only because I saw the disappointment in her face when she saw that it was me.

  He’d done exactly to her what my daughter had claimed, plus a little more. Her lip was busted, making it look like she’d had an allergic reaction to some shit. Her right eye was black, and I could see little cuts and bruises on her arms, making it so obvious that they were in this bitch tussling. I shook my head at the sight before me because never in a million years did I think that I would pop up on my baby mama and see her in this predicament. Granted, Tahira had a mouth on her that even made me want to punch her ass in it sometimes, but never in my life will I let a woman get me out of my element, and I put my hands on her.

  “Why are you here?” she questioned, using her hands to close the robe that she was wearing.

  Tahira was wide awake, more than likely waiting for that nigga to get home. She was a pretty girl; that much was true. She was smart too, so I had no idea why she was even allowing this nigga to dog her out like this. Not to boost her head up and cross the line, but I knew that she could have any nigga that she wanted, excluding me, so why the fuck was she even up waiting on this clown ass nigga to come home?

  Any nigga who put his hands on his woman is a fuckin’ clown. Shae can work my fuckin’ nerves every day, talk cash money shit to me, but I’d never raise a hand to her. I already had the advantage because I was a boxer, so from once punch alone, I’d probably break her little ass!

  “Fuck happened to your face?” I questioned.

  At the same time, I pushed past her to get in the house. I started searching this bitch from top to bottom because maybe she was playing me, and this nigga was inside the house all along. Who knows? Maybe Taniya had slipped up and
told her that I was on the way, and she was hiding that nigga from me. That could very well be the case because my daughter couldn’t hold fuckin’ water. She was on my ass the whole time I walked through the house, yet she hadn’t answered my question about what happened to her face.

  “Miami, what the fuck are you looking for? Why are you here?” she asked again.

  I quickly whipped my head in her direction and mustered up the most disgusted look that I could possibly find as I gazed down at her.

  “Quit acting like you fuckin’ stupid, Tahira! You know good and fuckin’ well why I’m here. Where your nigga at, so I can punch him in his fuckin’ mouth?” I questioned, getting all in her personal space.

  “He’s obviously not here, and—”

  “That much is true, so where the fuck is he? I look like I’m playing with you right now? You see me smiling? You think Ima get on a plane for almost four hours just for the fuck of it when a nigga don’t even like planes? You know Niya called me, hysterical, telling me that your nigga punched you in the mouth, so where the fuck is he?” I questioned.

  Tahira stared at me, showing me how pissed off she was that I was even there. We were raising a child, so there was just certain shit that I didn’t want my daughter to see. Number one would be having to watch her mama get tossed around this bitch for the fuck of it. I wanted to keep Taniya green to a lot of shit. Growing up in the hood had tainted my whole image of life. Although I never watched my parents physically fight each other, that still didn’t take away from the shit that I saw outside them dirty ass apartment buildings where we used to live. Because I saw shit at such an early age, it forced me to grow up fast, and I didn’t want that same thing for Taniya.

  “He went to get me something to eat. He’ll be back shortly, so I would appreciate it if you leave. My relationship is under control, and I do not need you coming down here to check some shit! Don’t you have a pregnant girlfriend at home? Shouldn’t you be rubbing her feet or her stomach or something? Get out, Miami, before he gets back,” she screamed at me.

  I didn’t even bother to respond; I just took a seat right on her living room couch. Her phone was on the small table in front of me, so I snatched it up and threw it in my pocket because I didn’t need her calling that nigga and telling him not to come because I was pretty sure that was next.

  “Your girlfriend knows that you're over here acting fuckin’ crazy? What the fuck is wrong with you, Miami? Why do you care about my relationship this fuckin’ much to get your ass on a plane and see what the fuck I have going on?” she asked.

  She was angry. I could tell by the way she kept pacing and unable to sit her ass down. In the middle of all those bruises on her, there were passion marks that decorated her neck and her chest area. How the fuck did bruises and passion marks even go together? Both of them bitches were fresh, so it made me wonder if he fucked her first or fucked her up? Either way, this woman was sick in the fuckin’ head to even be waiting for his ass to come back home.

  “Don’t flatter yourself. If my daughter wasn’t here, that nigga could knock you out for the fuck of it, and I wouldn’t come! It’s the fuckin’ principle, shorty. You got dried up fuckin’ blood on your lip, you’re sporting a black eye, yet you got the fuckin’ nerve to ask me why I’m here. Look in the mirror, and your appearance will tell you why. You keep questioning whether my shorty knows that I’m here. Her pretty ass is so fuckin’ secure in her spot in my life that I could tell her I’m spending the night at this bitch, and she wouldn’t question shit because she knows this is her dick, and I’m not giving it away. “You can get the fuck out of my face now. I came to see your nigga, not you,” I voiced and turned my head away from her.

  Damn near thirty minutes had gone by before I finally heard a loud car pulling into the driveway. From the sound, it could have been a truck that he was driving. I knew because the RAM that I had sounded the same way. Tahira shot from the spot where she was standing and walked fast as hell to the front door. Before she even got to the door, though, she checked her appearance in the tall, standing mirror.

  I watched the way she pushed strands of her hair behind her ear. I even watched as she ran her fingers over the black eye that she had, and her fingers lingered around over the busted lip that she was sporting too. After doing that for a few seconds more, she took off for the door. I shook my head and stood up, crossing my hands in front of me as I waited for this nigga to approach me. Simon or some shit was his name. I remember my daughter saying it a few times.

  “Baby, he just came. I didn’t know…” I could hear Tahira telling him.

  The fear in her voice when she talked to this nigga pissed me off. When he came into view, it took everything in my fuckin’ power not to laugh in this nigga’s face. The little high school niggas that I coached were bigger than his skinny ass. I knew for a fact that this nigga didn’t weigh more than 160. Plus, Tahira was taller than his ass. Not even on no joking shit, but from the condition of her face, I expected a nigga to walk in looking like Debo’s brother from the hit movie, Friday. Instead, we got Steve Urkel’s big brother.

  “Can I help you, man? Taniya is sleeping. Whatever you wanted to talk about, couldn’t it have waited until the morning?” Urkel had the fuckin’ nerve to ask me.

  I laughed because I knew the damage that I could do to this nigga with just my hands alone. Tahira made a face as she looked at me, basically telling me to stop. Although I was laughing, this wasn’t a laughing matter. Listen to this nigga trying to play daddy to my fuckin’ child! If I wanted to pop up around this bitch at three in the morning, just to stare at my daughter while she slept, I could fuckin’ do that!

  “Tahira, take your ass in the back, yo!” I demanded.

  He grabbed her hand, pulling her closer to him.

  “She’s fine right here,” he said, voice shaking and all.

  I knew his little ass was scared. Hell, he should be.

  “Tahira, take your ass in the motha fuckin’ back. I been around your ass for one fuckin’ minute, and I can already tell what type of nigga you are. Let the men talk. Fuck you need her to stand here for?” I questioned, and he didn’t answer.

  I shot Tahira a look, and this time, she let go of his hand, took the food that he had for her out of his other hand, and she left. After that, the nigga wouldn’t even look at me. I waited a few more minutes before I said anything.

  “You live here with Tahira and my daughter?” I asked him. This was my first time meeting him, so I honestly didn’t know much about him. I just knew bits of what my daughter would tell me, and Taniya could never get a story right, so her word didn’t count for much. She told me this nigga was white. He wasn’t even white; he was just light skinned.

  “Nah, I stay in D.C. I’m just visiting for the weekend,” he said, and I nodded.

  “You got a family out in D.C? A mama and a daddy? Possibly some siblings?” I asked.

  He looked at me like I was crazy before he nodded again.

  “I have both parents and a little brother, along with a big sister. Why you asking me this? What does this have to do with anything?” he asked.

  “You love them?” I asked, not even bothering to answer his question because this was my show; he was just a cast member at the moment.

  “Of course, I love them! Why wouldn’t I?” he asked as if my question was dumb.

  That right there proved to me that he wasn’t from the streets because had he been, he would have known right away where I was going with this.

  “Stay the fuck away from my daughter then, nigga! If I hear that you were even within ten feet of my child, I’m coming for you. If I can’t find you, I’ma go after the closest thing. So far, that seems like mommy, daddy, sister, and brother. I don’t give a fuck what you and Tahira do in your spare time. You two motha fuckas could sniff coke and put needles in each other’s arms for that matter, but you are not to be around my motha fuckin’ daughter. She called and told me what happened. You a coward to even do that shit
while my child is here. I’m only telling you this as a warning for your life. Just in case your ass ever goes crazy, and you think it’s okay to put your hands on my child—”

  “Tahira and I are going to get married soon, which will make Taniya my stepdaughter. If she ever misbehaves, then I can use physical punishment—”

  Pow! I walked right up on the nigga and punched his ass right in his fuckin’ mouth. His blood was on my finger, and his tooth had dropped on his shirt.

  “Motha fucka, what? You can use what?” I questioned, putting my ear to his bloody mouth.

  I pulled out the gun that I had on me and swung it so hard across his face that I swear I heard a bone in his jaw crack.

  “Owwwwww,” he cried out, holding his face.

  “Miami! Get off him! What the fuck are you doing?” Tahira screamed at the top of her lungs as she ran into the room and tried to go to his aid, but I grabbed her by her arm to stop her.

  There was crimson blood on her white, furry rug. Just the thought of another nigga putting his hands on my child when I didn’t even put my hands on Niya, and I was her fuckin’ parent just sent me over the edge.

  “Take your ass back up fuckin’ stairs. I’m putting this nigga out, shorty. Ima tell you like I just told him; he isn’t to be around my fuckin’ daughter! You got that?” I asked her, and she ignored me.

  “I said, do you got that? I’m not playing no motha fuckin’ games with your ass, shorty,” I barked, making the pictures on the fuckin’ wall shake.

  “I got it, Miami! Damn!” she cried.

  I released the hold that I had her in, and she went back upstairs like I’d told her to.

  “Get the fuck out of here, nigga, while you still can. Tell me thank you for not killing your ass,” I voiced, standing over him.

  “Thank… you,” he struggled to get out as he forced himself to stand up.