Page 97 of He Don't Play About Me
I don’t know how long we were sleeping for, but woken up by Islah screaming, then I heard punches connecting. The room was dark as hell, but I knew where that Glock was, and I reached for it before I even reached for the light.
But when I did reach for the light, I saw Islah whooping Jada’s ass.
“Bitch, you thought shit was sweet with me?!” Islah yelled out, still punching my BM’s face in.
“FUCK HER UP, ISLAH!” I yelled back, as I made sure that no punches from Jada touched Islah, and they didn’t. Shorty knew that I knew she couldn’t fight.
Islah finished her off by holding my BM by her ponytail and taggin’ her face a few times until Jada fell back into the hallway.
I walked over to Islah.
“Are you okay?” I asked as I looked her over.
She nodded. “Yeah, what the fuck is wrong with her?”
We both looked at Jada on the floor, wiping her face and trying to get up.
“Bitch, what the fuck are you doin’, coming into my house!”
“Fuck you, Love!” she shouted. “I told you what I wanted!”
I walked over to Jada and yanked her up against the wall.
“Bitch, we’ve been done for a minute. Why the fuck are you pressin’ me now? Because you see that I moved on?”
She shook her head. “Because you’re MY BABY DADDY! And if you are gonna act like this, I will put you on child support! Bitch ass nigga!”
I grabbed her by her neck, lifting her off the ground.
“Don’t make me get outta character, Jada! You know I can take Amir from you, and you will lose everything!”
Jada smiled at me. “Try me, nigga! You know I got niggas now.”
“You got niggas now, but you worried about who in my bed. Bitch, try me if you want to. You know I got lawyers like shooters, and shooters like lawyers. There is no way, shape, or form that you can ever beat me when it comes to my seed or life.”
Jada’s eyes were wide as I squeezed her neck tighter.
Finally, she nodded, and I let her drop to the ground. She gasped for air. I snatched my key outta her hand, and she looked up at me, crying.
“Now get the fuck outta my house.”
She ran out, and we heard the front door shut.
I then turned my attention to Islah.
“I’m so sorry, mamas,” I said as I tried to wrap her in my arms, but she pulled away from me.
“You told me she was nothing to worry about.”
“I know, baby, I’m sorry. That bitch ain’t ever act out like that.”
Islah shook her head. “I have enough on my plate. I damn sure don’t want to deal with a crazy baby mama, too.”
I agreed with her.
“I get that, mamas. I promise that nothing like that will ever happen again.”
Islah stared at me for a second, then grabbed her things.
