“Nah.” Kreon shook his head no. “You know who lil’ man’s pops is; my mom doesn’t know who mine is. Besides, my moms allowed me to think that some other nigga was my old man when he wasn’t; you didn’t do that with your seed.” He swept her braids out of her face and caressed her cheek with the side of his hand affectionately. “I gotta ask though, did you ever tell Donald that Marquise may have been his?”
“Yeah, I told his ass.” She shook her head shamefully, sniffling again. “Mothafucka had the nerve to excuse me of trying to trap him.”
“Trap him?” He lifted an eyebrow questioningly.
“Yeah. He was a rapper. You heard of the Dope Money Klique?”
“Fa sho’. I never listened to their music though.”
“Well,” she swallowed the spit in her throat, “he was down with the crew that they had signed,
