Page 231 of Own It

“This shit is disgusting. Don’t ever let them decide on shit again.” Rakim shook his head as we all guffawed.

I was too squeamish, so I let Rakim peel open the quesadilla to see our ultrasound that had two babies. I gasped as I stared down at it, but when I looked at Rakim, he was normal.

“It’s twins, babe. Look!” I pointed.

“I know, Day.” He caressed my belly and kissed the side of my still astonished face.

“You’re not shocked?”

“I’m a twin, I had twin little brothers, and my mama was a twin, so nah.” He shook his head, laying it down for me. “We got it though. I got you. I promise.” He pecked me.

“Well, what is it?” Téa queried.

“Twins,” Rakim announced, causing a cacophony of screams, laughter, and celebration to go on.

This was crazy, but I was still excited.

Once everyone got over the craziness of us having twin boys, we dispersed to enjoy the party.

“My feet hurt,” I complained as Rakim neared me.

He squatted down to help my feet out of my shoes and then reached his hand down to help me stand.

“Dance with me, baby.”

Though my feet were barking, I couldn’t deny his charm and that smile.

Rising, I let him lead me to the area where some people were dancing just as Stevie Wonder’s “I Just Called To Say I Love You” came on. This brought more people to the dance floor as Rakim pulled me in as closely as he could, pressing his lips to mine gently as I held onto his strong biceps.

We said nothing, smiling flirtatiously at one another, tuning out everyone around us even as they sang along with the song louder than Stevie almost.

“I want you to know I would throw myself down the stairs if I was having twins with anyone else,” I joked, enjoying the way Rakim laughed with his fine, chocolate ass. “I hope they look just like you.”

“I’ll take it either way.” He kept his eyes pinned on mine. “I’ll take whatever life gives a nigga, so long as it’s with you.” His hand moved up to my face as he thrust his lips to mine.

We stood there in the middle of the party, tongue kissing passionately and completely forgetting that we weren’t alone. But that was the kind of power Rakim had.

Since the day I met him, he was able to seemingly stop time and whatever was going on around him.

The Stevie Wonder track couldn’t have been more perfect for how I felt at the moment.

THIRTY-FOUR

rakim

COUPLE MONTHS LATER . . .

Celebrated boxer Nate “Big Bully” Godfrey still missing. Latest lead proven to be useless.

I read the headline of the latest article on my father, smirking slightly. Ayan had gone to them with what he thought could lead them to finding our father, and it, of course, wasn’t shit.

It was done purposely to make it seem as if we truly were searching for Nate’s bitch ass when in reality, we were the cause. It would take some time—a long ass time—but eventually, he would be pronounced dead due to absentia, because they would never find his remains let alone any fucking clues as to what actually happened to that nigga.

A part of me wanted to expose him for the piece of shit ass father the muthafucka was, but I had to swallow that one. If I made it obvious my brothers and I held hatred in our hearts for that nigga, detectives would put a magnifying glass over our asses more than they already had before they’d absolved us of any guilt.

“Good afternoon, Rakim. Good afternoon, Ayan.” Our therapist that Daylin had pushed my brothers and I to see entered her low-lit office.

“What’s good?” Ayan and I stated simultaneously, making her smirk the way she always did when we spoke at the same time, stating it was a twin thing.