XXV

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Amari Christian Walton
Monroe, Louisiana

"One of my guns missing, this shit gotta be sorted out." I tell my workers.

"Maybe you left it somewhere?" Mexican Pizza shrugs.

"That don't even make no damn sense." Nunu mugs him.

"Why would someone even steal yo gun? Fuck would they need it fa?" Chubby says.

"Ion know but y'all need to get my shit back or somebody dyin. I gotta get home."

I check my cameras making sure nobody was finna get in while N'laisah slept.

"Is that ole girl in yo house? She not home?" Scarface looks at my phone.

"Why you concerned nigga?" I mug him.

"I'm just saying, youn know who the opp is. Could be her and she sleeping in yo bed." He insinuates.

"Why you worried bout who in his bed, you on some fag shit." Shrimp mumbles.

Everybody know this nigga a DL

"Nah nah, but you on sum weird shit forreal." I wave him off.

"Well y'all got any other ideas of who would'a taken it?" He asks.

"Y'all figure this out. I'll be back tonight or tomorrow." I dap them up and leave.

I walk through my door and lock it. I look around the kitchen and see she drank the last of the almond milk she made me buy for her to drink when she over here.

She say I got everything but drinks here. I got hella water tho, she just bougie.

I walk into the bedroom and see her knocked out. I sit in front of the tv, on the bed and turn on the PS5.

"No hi, hello, how are you?" She mumbles.

"You up?" I ask her.

"Naw nigga I'm down." She rolls her eyes.

"See this why I ain't say nun to wake you up, I didn't feel like being bullied." I shake my head.

"Ian bullying you." She waves me off.

"What you do today?" I ask while launching 2k.

"I just seen my dad and finalized funeral arrangements. Talked to my sister too." She grabs her bag and goes to the bathroom.

"Ian seen pops in a while... ain't this year his-"

"Mhm." She cuts me off.

"You got all day to play this shit and you choose when I come over to do so." She comes sits in front of me.

I put my arms around her to use my controller and she watches me play.

"You can't even hoop in real life." She mumbles.

I should push her ass off of me for that. Screw it, throw her on the floor.

"You can't hoop in real life or on a game, hush." I say and she smacks her teeth.

"How many rounds you going?" She asks.

"However many you want." I smirk.

"On the game, Christian." She laughs.

"A few mo."

"My cooter still hurt anyways. She in hibernation fa nie." She sighs.

"You been taking care of my baby?" I ask her.

"The one I got rid of?" She says and I drop her.

"Ouch nigga I hit my head." She whines.

"You took a plan b?"

"3 of em. A plan b, c, and d." She cheeses.

"Ion even wanna play no mo." I power off the PlayStation.

"You hellbent on having this bastard huh?" She asks.

"Don't talk to me cuh." I lay down and scroll through Instagram.

She jumps on top of my back and lays on me.

"Bae." She says.

"Bae!" She says again.

"Amari Christian Walton." She starts poking around my face.

"How a nigga giving me the silent treatment?" She says under her breath.

"Tell you what, I'll give you a baby 5 years after we get married." She reasons with me.

"Mmcht that's too long, I'll be in a nursing home by then." I smack my teeth.

"Fuck I look like mothering in my early twenties." She rolls off of me.

"A mother in her early twenties." I shrug.

"See now I'm getting my tubes tied, smartass." She rolls her eyes.

"You just wanna be married when we have a baby?" I ask and she nods.

"Then how bout we getting married at the courthouse tomorrow, have a wedding in 2 months, and get you pregnant tonight?" I cheese at my plan.

"Yea." She smiles.

"Really?" I hop up.

"No." She laughs.

"One way or another." I mumble.

"Yo baby fever so bad."

"But imagine me and you, 2 fine ass people, having a luh baby. It's gone be cute as fuck, he gon takeover my legacy." I explain to her.

"Our baby gon be cute. Ain't gone be no 'bless it's heart's when people hold them. I can't wait till I'm thirty." She nods.

"You want me to wait bout 10 years? That's still a whole ass prison sentence." I lay back down and stare at the ceiling.

"How many you want?"

"Just 9." I shrug.

"Huh?" She side eyes me.

"9, each is gonna start with a letter of my middle name." I map it out mentally.

"G'one head and chose another baby mama cuz I could maybe push out 2...3 babies at the max." She shakes her head.

"You not seeing the vision." I sigh.

"The vision is you tryna paralyze me!"

"You'll make it." I pat her stomach.

"You not Lil Durk nor YoungBoy. You don't need that many kids."

"I hope you get pregnant wit ninetuplets." I mumble.

"Don't wish that shit on me. Take it back!" She scrunches her face up.

"Look, imma need my children ASAP. I'd be a bomb ass daddy." I cheese.

"Find you one then professional baby mamas... uh-uh-a surrogate!" She snaps her fingers.

"No. It's you or no one."

"Niggas wildin cuz I already got my baby daddies picked out."

"Huh?" I look at her crazy.

"YoungBoy if they find a cure for Herpes, G Herbo if he ain't got nun, Polo G, Pooh Shiesty when they let him outta prison-" I cover her mouth.

"You got a fucking list?" I scrunch my face up at her.

"Yes. If you could pick annnnyyy baby mamas, who would it be."

"If you didn't exist then uhhh, Nicki Minaj cuz I want that lap dance she gave Drake. All of Future's exes, he got good taste. Who else... oh, Jada Wayda, her BBL move like water. Ari too, but I gotta disinfect her from that creature she wit." I nod.

"Seem like you had this shit planned out." She side eyes me.

"My plan is to knock you up, we was just speaking hypothetically."

"I wasn't speaking hypothetically, if dey let Pooh outta prison I'm leaving you." She mumbles.

"Huh?" I look at her straight faced.

"I said I'mma give you a bald headed ass bastard once we get married." She rolls her eyes and I kiss her.

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