Dirty Dealing(Book 1 Baptiste Family Trilogy)

By: Jade King

She locked the door and smacked me across the face with stinging force. I looked at her and ran right to my “daddy.”

"Hey princess." Jeremiah said. He came over and kissed me on the forehead.

"This your little girl Jerry." I heard a fat man say sitting at the table.

Jeremiah smile, and rubbed his hands through my hair before he said, "Daddy's little girl."

I felt like somebody at that moment, and I stuck my chest out. I finally had a father and even though my mother was not a part of my fantasy I had a family. The only thing that I wasn't aware of was that I wasn't Jeremiah's little girl, I soon realized that when his twelve-year-old daughter Aisha moved in with us. Aisha was tall for her age, built solid and thought that the world revolved around her. We slept in the same room, and she found a way to blame me for everything on her side of the room that went missing. We were arguing over who misplaced her tape player. She would always say, “I can't wait till my brother come. We going to beat your lil ass.”

My mother walked in the room with the phone to her ear.

"Both of you shut the hell up. Right now." she said.

Aisha glared at my mother.

"You aren't my fucking mother. My daddy just wants to screw you. Once he's done you and your kid will be out." Aisha yelled.

I could tell my mother wanted to slap her but instead she stormed out of the room with her arms folded.

I myself wanted to high five Aisha for standing up to my mother. Aisha constantly took things from me and I soon learned what an ass whooping was.

She kicked my ass for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Whenever Jeremiah found out he would whoop her and make her apologize.

"Go on apologize Aisha, now." He said. He had zero tolerance for her behavior.

"I'm sorry." she mumbled.

"You are going to have to learn that Queen is your sister. She may not be your real sister, but she still deserves love." he said.

It was amazing how most people thought that all drug dealers were unintelligent, hardcore, and didn't have family values. Jerimiah was the opposite.

Early on Monday morning as the business community commuted to work I sat in the back of Jeremiah's Buick and watched my mother pick up another man. The man got into the car and planted a kiss on my mother lips.

"I missed you baby," she said running her hand down the man's chest.

"Yeah, fuck all that did you get what I asked?" the man said.

My mother pulled some papers from the glove compartment of the car and handed then to him. The man looked them over and then proceeded to get out the car.

"Be back here at ten pm. Got it?" he said sternly.

My mother nodded and started up the car. I couldn't believe that she was cheating on Jeremiah and I spoke up.

"How could you do this to daddy?" I said.

She looked up at me in the rear view mirror and wiped her nose on her sleeve before she answered.

"You keep you filthy fucking mouth shut." she yelled. Before I knew it she had turned around and struck me across the face. I held my cheek and didn't even cry. I knew that she would soon mess up our good life with Jeremiah and I was right.

Chapter 3

On Christmas day, Jeremiah had taken us ice skating. I didn’t know a damned thing about ice skating, but Jeremiah held my hand the whole way. I felt like he was my father and soon he became daddy. He made sure that I always had what I needed, and often he would reprimand my mother for neglecting me.

“Hey princess.” Jeremiah beckoned for me.

I ran over, and he handed me a cup of hot chocolate. My mother just sat on a bench and complained about the cold. She always had to spoil everything and she finally convinced Jeremiah it was time to go home. I sat on the edge of the couch back at home and pouted.

“Straighten up your god damned face.” My mother said grabbing me by the chin.

I ignored her and snatched my face away from her grip.

“Julean she’s just upset leave her alone.” Jeremiah said.

“Don’t tell me about my kid, okay?” she said.

“Your kid? She is mine too…I do just as much if not more for her. You need to learn to be a real mother, and stop putting your habits before life.” He said.

She got up and paced the room. I watched as she trembled. There was something going through my mother's mind, and I wanted to know what. She paced some more and smoked up at least two packs of cigarettes. I had gotten so many new things for Christmas that even my junkie mother could not steal my joy. Jeremiah was about to gather his partners together for a meeting, and then there was a knock on the door.

Jeremiah looked around, meanwhile I sat still in front of the TV eating cereal and watching cartoons. My mother stood in the distance and looked on as Jeremiah drew his gun and prepared to open the door. She hurried over to the television and scooped me up. We went into the bedroom where she shut and locked the door. I heard the front door bust open, and my mother held up one finger for me to be quiet.

There was a lot of loud talking in the living room, and then I heard four gunshots followed by ten more. I covered my ears and suppressed the urge to scream. My mother just sat cross legged on the bed and stared at the wall. I watched as she inhaled smoke and let it escape her lips.

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