So, here we are back in Jersey. It felt strange. Almost as if I shouldn’t be here. A feeling that I couldn’t shake. A feeling that wasn’t allowing me to get comfortable. Allah gives life and He takes it away. I had to remind myself of that guidance daily. My son was in my life for less than a year before he was taken from me. Burying your child comes with a type of anguish that you can’t even begin to describe. I keep asking why did I even have to meet him? It was a fluke that I did. I mean, who meets their son for the first time by bumping into him at a strip mall? That alone was surreal. Oni never told me she was pregnant. She upped and moved to Atlanta, and when my son bumped into me, she had the nerve to try to take him and run. Just thinking about it made my blood boil.

Yes, I admit, I shut down after I lost my son. I wasn’t asking for trouble in the A. I wasn’t hustling. No guns. No drama. I was just laying back and laying low before life threw me a curve ball. However, with each passing day, I was feeling a little stronger, getting my mind and spirit back right. I know they say there are five stages to grief. I hadn’t mastered step two: anger. But I was getting there. Going back and getting revenge was a constant thought in my head. I had convinced myself that it was the only way to get over my anger. Jaz kept saying if I went back, I would be walking into their trap. But revenge is an emotion strong enough to motivate taking the chance to find out.

Chapter Four

RICK