Mr. Wrong After All (17 page)

Chapter 29

Ahmad

Mobile, Alabama was the last place on earth I wanted to be but I had to be there for my wife. She didn’t need to come back alone to a place that held so many horrible memories for her mother’s funeral.

I was more than relieved when I learned that the funeral was going to take place so quickly. The less time we spent here, the better. I knew that I couldn’t say that to Nikki but a part of me knew that she felt the same way.

We didn’t see Nikki’s father until we arrived at the church because she didn’t want to go back to the house before the funeral. From everything she’d told me about her childhood, I was surprised that she was able to go back there at all.

He should be thankful that we’re in the house of God because after what he did to my wife, I have a constant urge to kill him. How could a father be so vile toward his daughters?

I looked at Corrie and Aliyah sitting next to me. They looked like little princesses in their pretty dresses.

I wish I could keep them like this forever.

The small church was filled with the unfamiliar faces of mourners. Nikki’s father was sitting on the front pew with some woman while the rest of the family sat behind him.

That woman must be his sister. Nikki never mentioned an aunt. She’s sitting too close to him to be his sister. They look more like lovers. Oh snap! Did he bring another woman to his wife’s funeral?

The service was short and even though I didn’t know a lot about Nikki’s mother, I thought it was a respectful funeral. The minister spoke well of the woman who was stretched out on the altar in front of him. It was obvious that Nikki’s father didn’t spend a whole lot of money on his wife’s last rites. The casket looked like it was purchased at a scratch and dent sale and the flowers that draped it were on their last pitiful petals.

Nikki hasn’t cried. Not one tear has fallen from her eyes. Neither has Jessica. I know that their mother was flawed but she was still their mother. Both of them are sitting there completely void of any emotion. I would be sitting here sobbing like a little bitch if my mother was lying there in a casket.

“I’m hungry, Mommy,” Aliyah said, breaking the silence that lingered in the car on the way to the cemetery. “When are we going to eat lunch?”  

“Soon, baby. I promise,” Nikki answered, straightening the bow that hung at the end of Aliyah’s long sandy colored ponytail. “Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust,” the officiating minister spoke as he dropped a few flower petals onto the casket before the cemetery worker began lowering it into the freshly dug grave. I tightly held Nikki’s hand because I thought that she would fall apart but she didn’t.

She seems so cold. Is this how she really felt about her mother? Damn, this is so sad.

I noticed Nikki’s father slowly making his way toward us and I was instantly flooded with anger. The sight of this no good niggah turned my stomach.

“So glad you were able to make it home for your mother’s funeral, Nicolette,” he said, sarcastically.

“How are you, Daddy?” Nikki asked, dryly.

He brought a date to his wife’s funeral. Apparently, he’s doing quite well.

“Ahmad,” he said, nodding his head in my direction. I did not want to respond but Corrie and Aliyah were watching and I never ever intentionally wanted to be disrespectful to anyone in their presence.

“Wassup?” I nodded back.

“Who is this?” Nikki asked, pointing to the woman on her father’s arm.

“This is Miss Julia Wilson. She’s a good friend of the family.”

Yeah, I bet she is.

“Oh,” Nikki responded, rolling her eyes.

I know you know better, Nikki. You know what she really is.

“How long are y’all staying?”

“Our flight leaves at three,” Nikki answered, checking her watch.

Don’t worry. We’re not going to miss it. I can’t wait to get back to Brooklyn.

“Daddy, have you heard from Shannon?” Nikki asked.

“Nope.”

You don’t seem upset by it either. I don’t know what I would do if I hadn’t heard from Corrie or Aliyah. It would break my heart. But then again, I’m a different pedigree of a father than you.

“So these are my granddaughters,” he said, turning his attention to the girls.

“This is Corrie and Aliyah,” Nikki said, patting each on their head as she called their names.

“Oh I see. They are pretty.”

The way he looked at Corrie caused the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

“Nikki, we need to get moving if we want to stop and eat before catching our flight,” I said.

“You’re right. Let me say goodbye to Jessica and Elaine.”
Hurry up.

“You know, Ahmad, when I was a young man, I used to pray for God to give me a son to carry on the family name. But I got three girls instead. I must admit that I was disappointed every time one of them was born. Then, one day I realized what a blessing being the father of girls really is. They bring such joy. You have to enjoy them while they’re young because they grow up so fast,” he said, stroking Aliyah’s chubby cheek.

What the fuck did you just say to me, motherfucker?

“Don’t put your hands on my daughter,” I said, slapping away his hand. “Corrie, take your sister to the car.

“What’s wrong with you, man? I was just showing my granddaughter a little affection.”

“I told you years ago that if you ever put your hands on anything that belonged to me that I would kill you. Now, I came here out of love and respect for my wife but I won’t hesitate to give those boys over there another grave to dig.”

“Ahmad, let’s go.”

Nikki rushed over as soon as she heard the commotion. She knew that I fully intended to make good on my threat. She grabbed my arm and began to pull me to the car.

“Bye, Daddy,” she said as we walked away.

“Bye.”

I opened the door of the car and stuck one leg inside.

“I’d love to have that little one come down to spend the summer with me,” he yelled out as he turned to walk away. “She needs to get to know her grandpa.”

That’s it. Your ass is dead. Jail be damned.

“Ahmad, no!”

“Daddeee!”

The shrieks and screams of my family were muted by the deadly rage that fueled my cheetah-like movement toward my intended victim. My mission was to kill this pedophile with my bare hands.

As I moved closer to him, three loud pops passed my head, narrowly missing my ear. By the time I reached my target, he was already flat on the ground. Dead.

Chapter 30

Nikki

It took months of counseling for Corrie and Aliyah to get passed what happened last year in Alabama. For a while, I wasn’t sure if their nightmares and anxiety attacks would ever end. The horrible effects of that day haunted our entire family. It all happened so fast yet everything seemed to move in slow motion.

Those last words my father spoke instantly took me back to my childhood. I knew exactly what he meant by them. The fact that he said them about my daughter made me tremble with anger.

My mind flashed back to a scene in my parent’s bedroom.

I had fallen asleep on my parent’s bed one night after my mother said that I could watch television in her room. I woke up to the foul smell of gin on my father’s breath in my face. He pinned my hands to the bed with the strength of his own as he lay on top of my back.

“Daddy, don’t,” I pleaded.

“Daddy don’t what? Huh? You sound just like your stuck up mama. She always says don’t. Well, you are gonna do what I want you to do and what your mama won’t do.”

I cried as he lifted my nightgown and stuffed himself into my asshole, and humped me like I was a dog. I passed out from the pain and awakened the next morning soaked in blood and semen.

I was determined that no child of mine would ever go through the hell that I had to endure.

I knew what Ahmad was capable of when it came to protecting his girls. He fully intended to kill my father. I just couldn’t let that happen. I had to stop him. Corrie and Aliyah needed their father at home with them and not locked up in the pen for murdering a worthless son of a bitch like my father. He wasn’t worth it.

When I saw that Ahmad was about to pounce on my father, I jumped from the passenger side of the car. Before I could get to Ahmad, there was a loud noise and I saw my father fall to the ground. At first, no one knew what happened. I knew Ahmad didn’t have a gun. I turned to see where the shot came from and saw what appeared to be a homeless woman standing behind our car, still holding the gun in her trembling hand.

Who is that? I’ve seen her somewhere before.

One of the cemetery security guards ran up behind her and pushed her to the ground, extracting the weapon from her hand.

“Call the police! Get an ambulance!” someone in the crowd yelled.

“Oh my, God,” Jessica said, walking toward the woman.

“Jess, what is it?” I asked as I cautiously followed her.

“Shannon?” Jessica questioned.

It can’t be. Oh my, God, it is Shannon.

“I couldn’t let him do it again. I couldn’t let him do to Aliyah what he had done to me. I had to stop him,” Shannon tearfully confessed.

We were all shocked to see Shannon. She was a mess. Her clothes were torn and dirty and her face was terribly scarred and thin. Her eyes were void of life.

Where did you come from? What has happened to you?

Shannon had killed our father. Shot him down like the dog he was. Now, she would have to spend what was left of her life in prison.

Jessica and I were saddened when we learned what life had been like for Shannon these last few years. She’d been living on the streets and prostituting herself. It was harder to hear that she had contracted HIV.

“I had nothing to lose by killing that bastard. Prison can’t do anything to me that would be worse than what I’ve already been through. I’ll probably be dead long before they get around to executing me. At least in prison, I’ll have a soft place to sleep and food to eat and I won’t die on the streets,” Shannon explained. “Don’t worry about me. I’m at peace knowing that I finally did something good for Aliyah.”

Shannon insisted that Jessica and I forget about her but that was much easier said than done. Even though our relationship had been estranged for years, there was no way I could forget Shannon. I would remember her every time I looked into Aliyah’s face.

Shannon was in prison but something about my father’s death released me from mine. It was as if I had been washed with emancipation. I saw everything through new eyes and felt a peacefulness that was unfamiliar but welcomed.

Although the demons of my past still lurked in the darkness, I no longer felt the need to surrender to them.

Follow Hazel on social media

Twitter @HazelMillsStories

Instagram @HazelMillsStories