Free Every Little Step: My Story by Bobby Brown, Nick Chiles Page B

stayed at when we were recording in LA. Her stepfather had this big-ass Lincoln thather sister had used to drive the two of them to the hotel. Malika and I decided to go get some food for everybody, so we got into the Lincoln and took off. As I said, neither one of us had a license, but I was convinced that I was a good driver so it wouldn’t be a problem. I was wrong.
    I was driving along on Sunset Boulevard when I heard sirens and saw a fire truck coming toward us on the opposite side of the street. But instead of pulling over, I kept driving. Unfortunately, there was a police car just ahead of us. As I passed them, they turned on their flashing lights. But I kept driving. Malika was beside me in the passenger seat, freaking out. I finally pulled the car over.
    When the officer walked up to the car, he learned that I did not have a license, but Malika was also not sure under what name the car was registered. I’m certain that in the officer’s mind we were two teenagers out for a joyride in a stolen car, and nothing we could say would convince him otherwise. Next thing I knew, we were in the back of a squad car in handcuffs. A very promising night with a beautiful girl had quickly turned into a nightmare.
    We were placed in holding cells at the police station. I was able to bail myself out, but they wouldn’t let me bail out Malika. Finally they let her go because they didn’t really have any charges against her. Eventually, she made her way back to the hotel. For some reason, the shared trauma of the experience brought us closer together. We had sex that night, without protection.
    A couple months later I was on the road somewhere with New Edition and I got a phone call from Malika.
    “Bobby, I’m pregnant,” she said.
    I let the words sink in. Right away I knew a couple of things: 1) I had no interest in trying to get her to get rid of the child; 2) I had to grow up real fast.
    When her sister called and told me Malika had gone into labor, I hopped on a plane as fast as I could. But she had delivered Landon by the time I arrived in LA. Part of the reason I moved my family to the West Coast was so that I could be with Malika and the baby. I bought a big house in Tarzana and Malika and Landon moved in.
    Having Landon come into my life changed me in profound ways. With the knowledge that I had a son, I felt stronger, more invincible, like his presence in the world turned me into a superhero. I felt everything through him; he became my strength, my motivating force. It’s hard to explain but I felt the King of Stage album through him; I felt the Don’t Be Cruel album through him. He gave me the strength to walk away from New Edition and do my own thing. He was my strength to get away from the projects and not take the little crumbs New Edition was willing to accept. He was my strength to move out of Boston to California.
    As I look back now on my relationship with Malika, my overriding thought is that I was way too young to become a father. I was hardly ever there for them because I was doingso much touring. I was still messing around with girls in every tour stop. I never slowed down for a minute, not even with a girlfriend and a baby back home. I’m a bit ashamed now by how I acted, how I treated her. She was extremely understanding, and I was an asshole. But at the same time, I never hid from her what was going on. I never pretended we were now in an exclusive, monogamous relationship just because we had a child.
    She and Landon stayed in the house with my family for a bit, but soon it was time to move out. I got them an apartment that I called our new home, where we could try to be a little family unit, but I still wasn’t ready. I was still cheating, leaving for long periods on the road. Understandably, Malika eventually couldn’t take it anymore. She needed to be free, to stop pretending we were in a serious relationship.
    Next thing I knew, she was dating a friend of mine, the actor Carl Payne. They