I slept with the baby laying on my chest every night - every night that I had the chance to sleep at night - for the first year of her life. They say it's not good to keep a baby in the bed with you, because you might suffocate her. But when Angel was born, the doctor said that she had a weak heartbeat. I thought maybe my heart against hers could help. I thought that maybe I could...recharge her batteries. Besides, after a really long night, laying her on my chest helped me, too. Her heartbeat always calmed me down, and brought me back into focus.
My heartbeat would slow down and hers would grow stronger. It was a win, win.
Jazz kept the baby's crib in my room because we always had so much else going on in the house. She figured that my room was probably the safest place for her. She was right.
It was a dangerous world that we lived in. A world full of men who would...do all kinds of shit. I was about the only one who wouldn't. And it didn't make me weak, either. It made me strong. Stronger than all the rest a them fools. Even at thirteen, all of the women in my life, all of them, looked to me to protect them. I didn't mind, though. Mama had already told me a long time ago that that was my job. To protect the women that we love. Not all this...other shit. Everything else was just a means to an end. It was a way for me to keep my whole family fed and safe, and under my watch, until I could get us all the hell up out of there.
The women in my family were tough. And if you want to know the truth, they could have protected themselves for the most part. They were tough, strong and beautiful. All of them. Every last one. But the beautiful part is why they needed me. Niggas were always pushing them after daddy died, trying to make them do shit that they didn't want to do. That's where I came in. And it didn't take long for the whole city to know not to fuck with mine.
They especially knew not to even look at Angel. Angel was a different situation altogether. That was my baby. My heart. Jazz gave birth to her, but she never took care of her. She was too high to take care of anyone most of the time, including herself. So I took care of Jazz, too, during that time. But when people fucked with Jazz, or mama, or Charity, they fought back.
Angel couldn't fight back. She couldn't defend herself. She was just a baby. Anyone could have done anything to her, and we would never know about it until it was too late. That's why I kept such a tight eye on her. I kept Angel with me at all times. She never left my side. She was always with me.
Always.
She came with me when I handled business, she stood on the corners with me overseeing transactions. She was with me every time for everything, unless I knew ahead of time that there would be bodies or blood. Then I would leave her with mama or Charity. But that's the only time that I ever left her with anyone else.
Sometimes I would let one of the yougins, Chance, hold her if something needed to be handled, and I needed two hands to do it. He wasn't crazy and reckless like the rest of the new crew. He was disciplined and in full control of himself at all times, like me. And he got jobs done and followed protocol, like he was supposed to. I put Chance over the lookouts when I sent them to collect information on Wallace. Because with Chance, I knew that I would find out exactly what I needed to know. Chance noticed patterns and routines and habits. He observed people, like Rico, and sized them up, like Remmey. It was good to have someone with some sense in the new crew. He made my job easier. Some of those other youngins were wild, and I had a low tolerance for that shit. Chance helped me manage them. Plus, he seemed to like babies. I read him as someone who wouldn't be stupid enough to hurt Angel in front of me. And I always kept Chance where I could see him when he was holding Angel.
Always.
The only time I would hand her to Chance, though, was when some silly nigga was fuckin' up the flow and interrupting the money. Then I would hand the baby over to Chance, who was usually never too far away, handle what needed to be handled, and then I would take her back.
At night, with her laying against my heart, I would whisper to Angel until she fell asleep. I would tell her about our family and our business, and what she needed to do to be able to survive with us. I taught her everything, just like Jazz taught me. I told her that Charity would teach her how to fight when she got older, like Sammy taught us, and if any man tried to fuck with her, don't hesitate to come see me. I would take care of it immediately.
Angel was so small. Smaller than other babies that I would see her age, and I always worried about that. I always worried that Jazz's smoking had something to do with it, and that I was going to hell for giving her rocks while she was pregnant. I was always stressed about that. Always. But that's not why I felt so protective of Angel. I felt like that about everyone who couldn't defend themselves.
That's just who I was.
But I felt that even more for Angel because she was my heart. I gave a piece of it to her every night, every night praying to God that my heart would make her stronger. Praying that God would help me keep her safe.
Every single night I prayed for all of us.
Just like mama, and daddy, and Jazz taught me. I never stopped, not even when Jazz did. And when Angel was old enough, I would teach her how to pray for covering, too.
Because we had to all walk away victorious and covered.
We had to.