Chapter 2
1511 Words
“Ten t-thousand?”
“That’s what he said.”
I waved at the floor receptionist, and then entered the elevator, phone pressed against my ear.
“What’re you going to do?” I sigh loudly.
“I have a little bit saved up . . . I can maybe take out a small loan –“
“You’re gonna give him the money?!”
“What am I supposed to do Yamia? He will literally kill me if I don’t get him his money.”
“Did he say that?”
“No, but I know,” I rub my forehead as he elevator door swings slowly opens. “Listen I’m at work, I’ll call later.”
“Be safe sis, bye.” She hangs up and I enjoy the comfort of silence, my heels slapping against the marble floors. I felt a bit anxious walking up to my door, but he confronted me this morning, why would he be here again?
Shaking away my paranoia I pushed the doors and settled in.
I was 25 when I got this job. I had just made Rumi and needed income, fast. He stayed home with Yamia while I got the job as a PA. Don’t get me wrong this job pays enough to keep a roof over our head, and food on our table but not enough to just hand over ten thousand dollars!
Even with that said, I worked pretty hard to keep this job, even sacrificing the connection I was supposed to have with my child at such a young age. Two years later and I’m not clueless as to why Rumi barely speaks to me, but is way more comfortable and talkative with Yamia, and at the end of the day I can’t blame him either. He’s young, and I wasn’t there.
#
Countless, countless meetings of endless talking and spewing of lies, that’s what working here was really all about.
These people almost always came in large groups, everyone with a huge plastered smile, assuring you that there was absolutely no flaw in their business plan or whatever they wanted you to invest in. But there always was I supposed, because my boss never called them back.
“Deja?”
“Yes Mr. Peterson?” Mr. Peterson was a fifty something year old man, who had the company handed down to him from his father. It wasn’t anything huge, just an old fashioned electronic company. He was kind, but more so professional. He loved his job too, I must say. Never missed a day, was never late, and he never left early.
Could be too that he didn’t have a family to go home to but that’s a story for another day.
The brown skin crinkles at his forehead as he stared at the files in front of him.
“Can you just shred these?”
I expected nothing less than to turn those well thought out business plans into useless pieces of paper.
“Of course,” I nod.
He disappears into his office, and I do the same. I pick up my phone and find that I had a missed call from my ex, Warren.
“You called?”
“Bring over Rumi tonight and yourself too.”
“Excuse me?”
“Listen Deja, I ain’t got no time for no games, you always blabbing about how I need to spend time with him, so why don’t you just bring his ass over tonight so we can get this over with?”
“It doesn’t exactly sound like you want to spend time with him warren, so don’t waste your breath.” I hang up before he could answer and turn my phone off.
Clapping my hands, I turn on the shredder and place the papers into them before replying some emails that had recently shown up.
Five minutes later and my mind drifted right back onto my dilemma.
How the hell was I supposed to get ten grand?
#
I was unnerved.
Xavi seemed to just have a habit of showing up any, and everywhere. Paranoia followed me when I went to the daycare, when I stopped by the grocery store, and I dropped my key almost 8 times trying to open up the front door.
“Are you hungry?” I ask Rumi as I balance him on my hip and he nods.
“I figured.”
I turn on the TV and go onto YouTube, picking the first cartoon video I saw. Put him in front of those, and he’ll never move.
“Mommy’s gonna change okay? And then she’ll make you some food.”
Before I could even do that, there was aggressive knocking at my door and I froze.
My eyes darted to Rumi who was completely engaged with the TV, and then to the door that leads to my kitchen.
The knocking continues and I practically sprint to the kitchen, ripping a knife from the holder.
I need a peephole.
Wait. . . If Xavi said he had a key . . .
“Who is it?”
“Just open the damn door Deja.”
Warren.
I roll my eyes before angrily yanking the door open.
“What the hell is your problem?”
“I told you to bring my kid over, and you didn’t.”
“So you just decide to come here?”
“Obviously.”
He lets himself in and I clench my jaw.
“I don’t want you in my house Warren.”
He ignores me and follows the sound of the TV. Although I wasn’t short, Warren easily defeated me with his height, although he was on the leaner side. He was dark, both inside and out and he cared about no one but himself.
We didn’t even date! It was a one night stand, and now I’m stuck with him.
“Hey boy, come to papa.”
Rumi turns to stare at Warren before glancing up at me. He then looks back at him, and then back to the TV.
“He doesn’t want to see you. Maybe if you visited more of-”
He turns around so fast it almost gave me whiplash.
“What you been telling my son b***h?”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. What have you been saying to him about me?” I let out an incredulous laugh, but as soon as I move to speak I’m shoved into the kitchen.
“Don’t put your hands on me,” I warn and he rolls his eyes.
“Oh Deja, perfect little Deja,”
“Get out.”
“Or what? Huh? What’re you gonna do?” He grabs my arm and I scowl at him.
“I said don’t touch me!” I knee him and he doubles over, but not before his reflex kicks in and a slaps me into oblivion. I land on the floor, and hit my head against one of the chairs.
“Stupid b***h, see what you made me do?”
Warren vilely spits on the floor, right next to me . . . and just leaves.
I’m still in a bit of shock as I cradle my head, huddled against the floor . . . but I couldn’t stay there.
I stand with tears leaking out of my eyes as I prepare Mac n Cheese for my son in the living room.
#
“Ooo, rought night?”
“Oh my g- can you please stop sneaking into my damn house?!” I whisper yell. It was too early for this.
Warren had already had his fun, and the last thing I needed right now was Xavi taking his turn.
“What happened?”
“Mind your business.” I fold my arms, my mind pleading with me to not embarrass and doom myself.
“Right now? Baby girl you are my business, until I get my money.”
“You’ll get it.” I grit out and he nods.
“Of course I will, I know that.”
“So why are you here?”
“To give you your deadline.”
“Deadline?” I raise an eyebrow.
“I want my money by the end of the week.”
“But it’s . . . it’s Thursday!”
“I know.”
“You want ten grand by Friday?!”
“Saturday actually,”
“W-what if I can’t-“
Xavi just bursts out laughing and for a second, I’m confused. In a split second he pulls out a gun, all humor erased from his face.
“Don’t find out Deja.” I gulp, my heart hammering against my chest.
“I have a son . . .” I whisper brokenly and he scoffs.
“Not my problem.”
He uncocks the gun before placing it back into his waistband.
“I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Once again, as he passes by, he places a kiss onto my temple, and quietly closes the door behind him.
#
I needed to start getting the money together. After work today, I took out some money from my savings, but it was only three grand. Yamia said that she would help, so with an hour to spare I was just going to head over to her house and see what she could do.
Walking out of the bank, I noticed Warren’s car pulling up next to me. I walked fast only for him to roll down the windows. He looked livid.
“Get in.”
“I dro-"
“Get in the f*****g car Deja.”
“Why? No.” He can’t hurt me in public, right?
Besides, I was almost there.
“b***h,” he abruptly stops the car and I walk even faster. He gets out and this man begins sprinting towards me.
“What is wrong with you?!” I ask him as he slams me into a car.
“If you don’t get into that car right now Deja I will f*****g kill you.”
“W-what . . . what did I do?”
“Oh you know what you did, but don’t worry, I’ll just show you.” He grabs me by my hair but thankfully it’s a wig so. I give in, not wanting to make any more of a scene. I just hoped he wasn’t going to kill me.
- Writer
