Dear Drama (12 page)

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Authors: Braya Spice

BOOK: Dear Drama
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He sighed deeply. “Allure, come here.”
I walked over to him.
“Look at me, baby.”
I did.
“I'm not going to do anything to hurt you. I'm not going anywhere. Allure, I love you. Understand?”
I gave him a big ole Kool-Aid smile upon hearing that. And he sounded sincere. So I let him hold me.
Chapter 15
“When are you going to say it, baby?”
“Say what?” I asked James.
Finally, I had let him meet Sierra, and we were in San Diego, at Sea World. James had got us a room out there. Sierra was snoring in the bed across from us, while James cuddled with me in the other bed. It felt good, oh, so good, to finally have a man that cared about me.
Three months had passed since the whole gun situation, and I was back in school, I had graduated from Long Beach City College and was starting my first semester at Cal State, Dominguez Hills. I was able to get a job in their child development center as well. James was so proud of me. He had kept his word and had been treating me like a princess. Now it was nine months and counting that we had been together! Sierra had grown to care for James. I hoped he didn't disappoint her.
“Look, it's something you gotta give me time on,” I added.
He chuckled. “You know damn well you love me, girl. But I'll give you all the time you need.” He reached over me and turned out the lamp. Then he held one arm in the air so I could lay my head on his chest. Man, I loved doing that! There was just something about waking up in a man's arms. It made me feel safe, protected. Like I could be soft, vulnerable. As a single parent, it seemed like I always had to be strong, rigid.
When I felt my eyes get heavy and my body relaxing, I whispered, “James.”
“Yes, baby?”
“I do love you.” Then I drifted off to sleep.
 
 
Soon I was dreaming. Must have been wet dream. Naw, women don't have wet dreams. Still, I was dreaming that James was fucking my brains out with his dick and I was wet.
“Ooh, yeah, baby,” I moaned when he slid his dick out, then shoved it in only a little. “Don't tease me, baby.”
He shoved it in a little more, raised my legs to his shoulders, and ran his tongue across my nipples.
I moaned again. “Oooh, baby.” I felt the muscles in my pussy tighten up. I felt him go harder and deeper, to the hilt. I felt my head hit the headboard of the bed. That was when I knew ... I wasn't dreaming. James was making love to me while I was asleep.
My eyes shot open. I blinked them a couple times, until they focused. James was over me, having a good old time.
He licked my nipples again and sensations hit me, but still I asked, “James, couldn't you have woken me first?”
He looked at me and kissed my tart mouth with his tart mouth. “I did wake you up.”
“You got a condom on, don't you?” I asked.
“Yes, baby. Let Daddy get his.”
He was using his fingers to massage my clit while he pumped into me.
I moaned and stroked his head, which was on my chest, and he played with my nipples again with his tongue.
He kept on rubbing my clit and entering me until I felt my legs begin to shake, and then he went deeper and deeper until we both exploded at the same time.
Then I fell right back to sleep.
 
 
Something isn't quite right with me,
I thought as I ran out of my syntax class for the second time today to throw up. First, I assumed it was the tacos I had last night, but if that was the case, Sierra would be throwing up, too, and her babysitter would be blowing up my cell phone. Then I thought maybe, just maybe, I had caught a stomach flu. But stomach flu didn't make you sleepy, and I had no diarrhea and fever. I just kept puking up everything I shoved down my throat! Finally, it dawned on me that I might be pregnant.
The doctor confirmed it for me. I was pregnant. But how in the hell could I be? Especially after the shit Greg had done to me, giving me chlamydia. In addition, I had always been adamant about condoms. So how in the hell could I be pregnant? I was eight weeks along according to the doctor. See, my period was irregular, so sometimes two or three months went by and I wouldn't have a period. Most said I was lucky to be this way. And I was, but it just sucked in situations like this.
“How many?” I asked. I had to make sure he'd said what he said.
“You are eight and a half weeks along.”
I counted back and muttered, “Oh God.” So the San Diego trip was when I got knocked up. Seemed impossible, because I had bought a big box of Magnums when we were there.
While Sierra jumped with joy at the news, I sighed. The last thing I needed was a baby right now. I was only twenty-three and was still in college.
What the hell?
I instantly felt disappointed with myself. I felt I was careful, even though nothing was 100 percent. Financially, I could not afford another child. Dread filled me. All another baby would do right now was slow me the fuck down. But I also knew there was no way I was getting an abortion, so I had no choice but to get ready for another baby. And hopefully, since James had a job and we were together, he could give me some support. I didn't quite know how he would take it, if it would make him happy or not. But no matter his response, I had to tell him. Therefore, I wasted no time calling James's ass.
As soon as he picked up at work, I shouted into the phone, “I'm pregnant!”
Silence.
I gave him a few seconds before repeating, “I'm pregnant.”
“Yeah, I heard you. How did this happen, Allure?”
“To tell the truth, I don't know, James, because we always use condoms.”
He took a deep breath. “Baby, let me call you back in an hour.”
“Okay, I'm—”
Before I could finish, he hung up the phone in my face.
Now that hour was more like two, then three, then four. Then a day passed. Then more days came and went, turning into a week, and he still hadn't called me. And that would have been fine and all if he were dead or incarcerated or if my ass wasn't now nine weeks pregnant. It bugged the shit out of me. So that was why when I woke up that Saturday, I stomped into the kitchen to call his number. Before I could, however, my phone rang.
My heartbeat sped up out of excitement, then partly out of relief, 'cause I knew it had to be James.
“Hello.”
“Allure.”
My heart sank. It wasn't James, but a female. I recognized the voice instantly. It was Greg's crazy-ass mother, San.
“Yes?” I asked impatiently.
“Baby girl, I need you to get over to my house now, girl, now!”
Since it was Saturday and Sierra was over there, instantly I panicked.
My heartbeat sped up again, and I grabbed my keys and rushed out to my car, sobbing as I went, praying that Sierra was okay!
I did fifty on the streets, praying a cop wouldn't stop me. I squeezed into a spot on the street in front of San's house, got out of my car, and walked as fast as I could to the front door.
San was on the porch, pacing.
“Where's my baby?” I demanded.
“Sierra is okay. She's in the kitchen, eating some Top Ramen. It's not her I'm worried about. It's Greg.”
If I had known this was about her punk-ass son, I never would have come. “It's not
him
I'm worried about,” I muttered. “Why did you have me come over here? I'm not with him, so I don't care about what he's going through.” I turned to leave.
She grabbed my arm and held it, stopping me from leaving. “Listen! Sierra told him that you were pregnant, so Greg went crazy and threatened to kill himself. He got some of my prescription pills and is trying to take 'em.”
“What?” My eyes widened. “You got my baby around this shit?” I walked past her to the kitchen and saw my daughter sitting at the table, gobbling down some noodles.
“Mommy!” she exclaimed.
“Come on,” I told her.
Greg's mama yanked me back into the living room. “Sierra, stay put!” she yelled as she pulled me. “Do you want her father to die?” she whispered. “'Cause that's what's going to happen.”
“I'm not a doctor. Why didn't you call the police?”
“I didn't call the police, because I didn't want them to whip his ass. You know the Long Beach police hate him. Hell, they'd probably encourage him to do it. Plus, I don't want the courts to find out, or they won't let him see his daughter again.”
“I'm not a therapist, either, San. I'm just his baby mother.”
“And he still loves you like you two were still together. Please talk some sense into him before I lose my son.” Her hands started shaking, and she started sobbing.
I glared at her for a few seconds before I huffed out an impatient breath. “Where is he?”
“In my bedroom.”
“Take my baby outside before I do anything,” I ordered.
“I'll take her to get some ice cream down at the Rite Aid.”
I nodded and walked to the bedroom. The door was closed, so I knocked.
“Greg?”
He didn't respond.
I put my ear to the door and could hear somebody sobbing and music playing. I reached for the knob and turned it. I opened the door slowly and entered the room. I tried to remain patient. The music was coming from an iPod. I almost nutted up at that. I knew his broke-ass mama didn't own an iPod. She was on general relief, and that was how she got by, she and her husband. So I knew it had to be his. He was playing
“Like You'll Never See Me Again” by Alicia Keys. It was our song when we were together. Across the bed were pictures of him and me, pictures of me alone, and pictures of Sierra, him, and me. Every picture had me in it. He was stretched across the bed with a bottle of pills in one hand and a shredded-up picture of me in the other.
“What are you doing, Greg?”
His eyes shot my way.
He looked me up and down and started sobbing. It was as if looking at me, seeing me, gave him the confirmation he needed, I guess. My cheeks were puffy, the same way they'd been when I was pregnant with Sierra.
“You pregnant, Allure?”
I twisted my lips to one side. “Greg ...”
“Are you?” He stood suddenly, making me jump. “I'm not gonna hurt you, Allure.” He stood in my face. “Just tell me. Are you?”
“Greg?”
“Are you!”
“Yes.”
His eyes teared up again, and a cluster of tears ran down his face.
Before I could stop him, he pulled my blouse up so my belly was exposed. I wasn't that big, but a pouch was visible and my breasts were swollen to the point that they had already gone up a size. The same signs as before. He saw all of this, and more tears ran down his face.
He released my shirt and took a step back. “So I guess it really is over for you and me.”
Now, see, this was as good a time as any to throw in his face all that shit he had talked about Angel, and all the times I'd warned him in the past that if he didn't stop beating on me, I would leave him and he would regret the day that I did. He had always said he would find someone better than me. I could have thrown all of that in his face. Laughed at his tears for every time he dismissed or laughed at mine. I remembered all the times I begged him just to be decent, to be humane to me, and he wouldn't. Now I had great chance to play dirty. Get my vengeance. But I didn't. Why the fuck couldn't I play dirty? Do people like they had done me? I had to get out of that shit, being the nice girl. But I guess I couldn't, because I guess that was who I really was.
“Greg, it was over between me and you a long time ago. This baby didn't have anything to do with it.”
He sobbed.
“You're just gonna have to deal with it.”
When he spun around, there was fire in his eyes. He rushed toward me. I instantly felt fear that he would beat my baby out of me. But I didn't let him see my fear, because I knew he would feed off of it. So I kept my face calm, despite the fact that inside I was terrified that he would hurt my baby and me.
My look must have been convincing, because it stopped him.
“Do it. Hit me. Beat me. Kill me,” I told him. “It ain't ever going to make me do something I can't do ... and that's love you again. You had everything I had to offer, and you ruined it for yourself. I'm not going to sit up here and pacify you. It is over. You need to move on with your life. And if there was any indicator that you not someone I should be with, all the shit you done these past two years is.”
“I love you, Allure.”
I pulled my lips in. “Then I'm sorry to hear that, Greg. 'Cause it doesn't make a difference. Because I will never, ever love you or want to be with you again. It's not healthy, and it's not safe for Sierra or me. ”

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