I grabbed my phone and immediately called Nico. I called him two times in a row, and it rang out to voice mail each time.
“Answer your fucking phone!” I said in frustration as the knocks at the door got louder and louder.
I called Nico back, and again his phone rang out to voice mail.
Whoever it was at the front door, they were being very persistent, like they weren’t going to go away. I looked at the television screen again, and this time I was able to tell that the two guys were definitely Spanish guys.
I tried calling Nico again, but I got no answer.
At that point I was beyond nervous. I ran to the closet to look for the small .22 handgun Nico had bought for me. I was frantically rummaging through the closet because I forgot exactly where I’d stashed it. And while I was looking I heard a loud bang coming from downstairs, and then I heard talking and feet moving. My front door had just been kicked in. My heart was in my feet.
I finally felt the steel from the gun. It wasn’t the .22 I was looking for—it was Nico’s chrome .45. With each heartbeat my heart felt like it was leaping out of my chest.
“That muthafucka ain’t in here,” I heard one of the Spanish dudes say from downstairs. After he said that, it was like everything went silent for a moment, and the only thing that could be heard was the pounding of my pulse as I stood stiff, my body frozen against my bedroom closet door.
I heard some movement on the first floor of the house and then I heard what sounded like feet coming up the stairs. The whole house was dark, except for the light coming from my bedroom. I wanted to turn it off, but I couldn’t take the chance because I didn’t know where the two intruders were.
About a minute later, with my heart still pounding and my palms sweaty, I heard the floor squeak. Someone was near my bathroom, because the hardwood floors always squeaked when someone walked nearby. And right after I heard the floor squeak, my cell phone, which I had accidentally left on the shelf of my closet when I was looking for the gun, started to vibrate, scaring the shit out of me and causing me to fire the gun into t
he ceiling.
My own gun blast startled me. And right after my gun went off, I heard two loud gunshots coming from the hallway. Instinctively, I ducked down and stayed crouched down and started to fire my gun in the direction of my hallway. I fired three shots. I was ready to piss on myself from fear. The next thing I know, water started coming from the sprinkler system and the burglar alarm started to sound nonstop.
I didn’t know what was going, but I thanked God because the sound of the alarm spooked whoever it was in the house. I could hear them running down the steps as if they were making their way out.
By this time the water from the sprinklers had stopped, but the alarm was still sounding. I grabbed my cell phone and realized I had missed a call from Nico and immediately called him right back.
“Pick up the phone! Pick up the phone!” I said, but it rang out to voice mail.
At that point I didn’t know what to do. My first instinct was to call the police, but at the same time I didn’t want them searching the house unless I had first checked with Nico.
I looked at the closed-circuit monitor in the room and saw the two dudes exiting the house. I wanted to inspect my property, but I was too scared that someone was still in the house, or that the two dudes who had left would turn right around and come back inside.
I decided to try Nico’s cell phone again, and finally he picked up on the fourth ring.
“Oh my God, baby! Oh my God! Somebody just broke into the house! I was calling you!” I screamed hysterically into the phone, tears streaming down my face.
“What? Did they touch you?”
“No, I grabbed the gun and started shooting, and the alarm started ringing, and they ran off. Oh my God! Baby, just come home. I’m so scared. I wanna call the cops. I can’t take this.”
“You still got the gun?”
“Yes,” I replied, my body still trembling.
“OK, lock yourself in the room. Don’t call the cops. I’m calling my peoples right now and have them come to the house. They’ll be there in ten minutes. I’m on my way to the crib too. I’m gonna hang up, but I’m gonna call you right back and I’ll stay on the phone with you until I get there.”
“OK, hurry up, baby. I’m so scared right now.” I did as Nico had instructed me. I barricaded myself inside our bedroom.
I turned off the lights and held on to the gun with both hands. And just as I turned off the lights, the alarm stopped ringing, and there was this deathly silence that filled our 6000-square foot home. I paced back and forth for a moment before tiptoeing to the window and looking out, hoping to see something, but all I saw was the pitch blackness of the night.
As sad as the thought was, I knew Nico was probably with one of his side chicks at that very moment. I just prayed that, wherever he was and whoever he was with, he would leave and hurry up and get to me, so I could breathe again and feel safe.
CHAPTER 7
Jasmine
After I left Nico, I went to the bathroom. All of that liquor I had been drinking was more than ready to come out. There was a small line to get into the bathroom, so while I waited, I sent Simone and Jada a text asking them where they were at because I was ready to bounce. I made sure not to tell them why I was ready to leave, because it was none of their business, and with them and their dysfunctional asses, they would have just been on some cock-blocking, hating shit anyway.