“And what am I supposed to do? Wait on him? Do you really think this is at the top of his list of priorities right now?” she asked.
Although she made a good point, I didn’t want to throw my father under the bus. Instead, I tried to reason with her. “Why don’t you just let me and the girls handle this? These are street cats, and it could get real dangerous. I can’t let nothing happen to you.”
“Honey, I think you’ve forgotten this is not your mama’s first rodeo. Whoever this piece of trash is, he doesn’t pose a threat, and I ain’t scared.” She reached into the large Chanel bag on her lap and pulled out a shiny .44 magnum and held it up with a reassuring smile. Before I knew it, she had opened the car door and was stepping out.
I quickly hopped out too. “Ma, wait. You can’t go in there by yourself. Jesus.”
“You’re right,” she said, continuing her walk toward the house. “Paris, Sasha, you girls come on.”
My sister and cousin jumped out and followed her.
“You’re welcome to come too if you’d like, Vegas.”
I took a deep breath and sighed, trudging behind them. The women in my family could be so damn difficult sometimes.
Paris
22
I jumped out of the car with Sasha and followed my mother up the steps to the house. I was too stubborn to look back, but I was sure Vegas was following us, and I’d bet money he wasn’t happy about it. Oh, well. That’s what he got for trying to leave me out the fray. If he had let me go with him and Sasha in the first place, I never would have told my mom they were going after Rio’s attackers. Vegas and I were going to have words about it later. Of that, I was certain.
“Do we have a plan?” Vegas asked when my mom reached the top step.
“Of course we have a plan,” she replied, knocking on the door like she was there for a friendly little visit.
Sasha, Vegas, and I just kind of looked at each other. I mean, this was a drug dealer’s house. In these situations, Vegas or Junior would usually break down the door, or Sasha would pick the lock, or I’d climb through a window. We’d do anything but knock on the door. And they say I’m reckless.
As crazy as it sounds, a woman about my age answered the door. I tensed up, ready to start shooting, but she seemed harmless enough.
“Can I help you?” the girl asked. She glanced at my mother, but her eyes studied me and Sasha. If she was like most chicks, she was just concerned about us stealing her man. We had that kind of effect on women.
My mother put on this sweet, proper voice. “Yes, dear, does Vaughn Holmes live here?”
She nodded, still staring at me and Sasha. Bitch had no idea. We didn’t want her man; we were there to whip his ass for what he did to Rio.
“Can I speak to him?” Mom smiled sweetly.
The woman turned back to the inside of the house and yelled, “Vaughn, some lady at the door for you!”
“Who the fuck is it?” he yelled back.
“Who are you?” she asked.
“I can introduce myself,” my mother said, pushing her aside so she could enter the house.
The girl screamed, and at that point, Vegas, Sasha, and I didn’t have any choice but to follow right behind my mother, weapons drawn. By the time we entered the living room, there were three men standing there, and one had a gun pointed at my mother. Amazingly, my mom just stood there like she didn’t have a care in the world.
“Which one of you is Vaughn?” she demanded to know.
“Who the fuck is asking?” the man with the gun growled.
“Your worst fucking nightmare if you don’t lower that gun from my head and tell me what I want to know. Don’t you have any respect for your elders?”
“Fuck that shit. Motherfuckers ain’t just gonna keep rolling up in here like they invited guests. This my motherfucking house. Now, tell them to lower their guns or I’m gonna blast your ass some new holes for your earrings.”
“You do, and it will be the last thing you ever do,” I told him, pointing my gun at his head.
“Fuck you, bitch,” he said, getting excited. “I don’t mind dying as long as she goes with me.” Tough talk, but I didn’t believe him, and I don’t think my mom did either.
“Paris,” my mother said calmly.
“Yeah, Mom.”
“If this son of a bitch doesn’t get this gun out my face in the next ten seconds, I want you to shoot him. You know where, right?”
“Mm-hmm. Sure do.” I took aim.
“Now, baby, please don’t kill him. Just shoot him. I might want to ask him a few questions when this is all over.” My mother smiled at the guy we all suspected was Vaughn. “Young man, if you don’t want to be shot, you might want to lower that weapon.”
“She shoots me, and I’m gonna shoot you.” He turned the gun sideways, pushing it closer to my mother’s face. He had no idea how easy he was making this.
“I don’t think so,” my mother replied, leaning to the side just as I pulled the trigger.
Vaughn screamed like a little bitch. The bullet went into his shoulder, paralyzing the nerves that controlled his fingers. He spun away from us in the opposite direction, dropping his gun, which Vegas snatched up.
Like it was just another day, my mom bent over and swept off an armchair with her hand before taking a seat. Crossing her legs, she gave me an approving nod and a smile. I can’t begin to tell you how good that made me feel. Making my mother proud wasn’t a daily occurrence for me.
“Now, maybe we
