by Tya Marie
“How about this? One dance. I have no problem with my wig getting a little sweaty, but I refuse to be out here with my beat sliding off of my face,” I said, rising from my seat, giving my dress a sharp tug.
The DJ went from playing hip hop to old school reggae. See, I ain’t know shit about cassette tapes, but I did know about buying those promotional CDs that DJ’s came out with and blasting them in the house like I was at the club. Me and my cousins would get nasty with it, practicing to shake our asses in front of the older niggas who came through the block looking for my dad. Tonight was no different. Hiking my skirt up, I backed my ass up on Justice, making my shit pop. He held his own, placing firm hands on my waist and gyrating like we were in Kingston. Unlike black clubs, the patrons here were getting their lives, creating a small circle to enjoy the show, and taking notes. That one song was like a hit of crack—I couldn’t have one. Old school riddims came on back-to-back, so many Justice ordered our drinks to come straight to the dancefloor. I tossed them back with ease, stopping on the fifth one because I still had some more plans for the night.
“Let’s go to the bathroom,” I whispered in Justice’s ear, biting the end to let him know I meant business.
I led Justice off the dancefloor, using his hand to keep me steady. The bass from the music covered the rapid beating of my heart. I had fucked plenty of niggas in my youth, most while I was drunk or high, but tonight felt different. Maybe because Justice wasn’t like anyone I had ever met before. Even his job—which would’ve turned me off a year ago—was one of the reasons my pussy was so wet. I was tired of fantasizing about the dick—I needed a piece.
“Whoa, ma,” he said as I pushed us into the men’s room, making a beeline for the handicap stall. I slammed the door shut, pressing him against it, and proceeding to get what I came for. “I can get us a room down the—”
“I don’t want to fuck in a bed,” I cut him off, sucking on his neck as I undid his belt buckle. “Besides, I can’t spend the night out; I switch shift with my son’s father.”
Justice tried to offer another alternative—his place—and I cut that off with my lips, sucking on his lower one as I darted my tongue in and out of his mouth. His hands slipped up my dress, pulling it up to my waist and pushing my panties to the side. I moaned as he plunged one of his long fingers into me, making a “come here motion” that sent my G-Spot into a frenzy. His thumb kneaded my clit in small circular motions, speeding up with each revolution. I jumped on him, wrapping my legs around his waist, my hands grapping underneath me for his dick hiding inside of his Armani boxers. I whipped it out, using some of my pussy juices to stroke him.
“Fuck,” he muttered against my lips.
I stroked him faster, grinding against his fingers as my orgasm grew closer. “Me,” I moaned in his ear. “Stop playing around and fuck me.”
Justice’s dick was standing at attention, brushing up against my ass. He picked me up by the waist, I placed the tip to my dripping wet cat, and let out a strangled moan as he dropped me on all ten inches of him. My legs went weak at the surge of pleasure. I blinked back tears as he bounced me on him. Another orgasm rippled through me. And another as Justice continued stretching me out, hitting my walls with those rhythmic stroked of his. He was getting off from me getting off, and it was the sexiest thing I had ever seen on a man. It made me want to please him.
“What you about to do?” Justice asked as I wrapped my arms around him.
I licked a bead of sweat running down the side of his face. “Show you how I make stalkers.”
My vaginal muscles contracted on his dick, the sensation causing his legs to give out a little. Justice clamped his hands to the top of the stall as I wrapped my arms around his neck, riding him until we both came in a sweaty heap. Fortunately for us, the handicap bathroom came with its own personal sink. We freshened up, with me reapplying my makeup as Justice helped to fix my hair back into place. Getting all that dick had me unprepared to step out of the restroom. I felt like a baby deer as Justice led me back to our section where we chilled for the rest of the night. Like a gentleman, he had me home at midnight, kissing me on the lips and promising to plan a getaway for the two of us. I floated up to my apartment, spending the elevator ride getting all of my smiles out because I knew once I entered my apartment it was a wrap. Or maybe not, I thought as I noted the dark living room. The lights came on, revealing Bull sitting in my favorite armchair, his face set to stone.
“Where you been?” he asked.
I pressed myself into the door. “I went out for dinner.”
“Alone?”
This was a trap. He knew where I was. “With a friend.”
“I ain’t seen you with no bitches since you moved here. I’m going to ask you again: where were you?”
If I didn’t play this right, Bull was going to continue prying until he found out who Justice was. Swallowing, I replied, “You got me. I was at the supermarket and, uh, this guy asked me out on a date. A real cornball ass nigga, someone I wouldn’t give a second look to. He took me out dancing at a club in the city. The only reason I went is because I was still mad at you for the other day.”
Bull rose from his seat, storming over to me. I raised my hands to cover my face. I could hide fresh bruises like I did the other ones; what I couldn’t do was face my son with a black eye. My entire body tensed, bracing itself for impact, relaxing as Bull pulled me in for a hug. He kissed me on the lips, the feeling cold and calculated, nothing like the passion I felt with Justice.
“I was out of line for putting my hands on you like that, Drea. You know I would never do anything to purposely hurt you, right?” Bull asked, staring down at me, looking like a lost little calf.
“Yeah,” I croaked. “I know.”
“The way you undermined me in front of everyone was embarrassing. Niggas fear me, and if you overrule me today, they’ll think it’s okay to turn to you if I tell them no. Everything I said the other day was a lie; I can’t run the streets without you. You’re my queen. Sorry I didn’t treat you as such.”
Bernard Evans was all mouth, the largest asset of his being his hurricane tongue. What he didn’t know was that I was hip to the way domestic violence worked. At some point in time, all my homegirls were getting their faces beaten in by their boyfriends. I was the one to tell them not to let any nigga put his hands on them in the name of a Gucci purse. Unfortunately, I was speaking from a place of privilege; I was able to rock designer from head to toe off the strength of my father. No everyone else was as fortunate. So when Bull pulled a jewelry box out of his pocket and popped it open, revealing a two-carat engagement ring, I thought of all my girls who received one after a black eye.
“I bought this the day Legacy was born. This isn’t some plot to keep you trapped, Drea. I want what’s best for you even if it isn’t with me. But just know I have every intention of making you my wife and treating you right.”
“Bull,” I said, swiping at the tears falling down my cheeks. He placed it on my ring finger, taking a step back to watch me marvel at the way it sparkled. “It’s exactly what I wanted. I love it.”
“And I love you. Why don’t you sleep with it on tonight? Quill won’t notice,” Bull suggested, planting a kiss on my forehead.
I nodded. “Sure.”
Inside the privacy of my bedroom, I slipped out of my dress. Quill was still sleeping in my bed, Legacy on his chest. Neither one moved as I padded across the room to my bathroom. Cutting on the shower, I dived in, holding myself up with the help of the glass. I slid to the floor, ugly crying under the sounds of the spraying water. Holding up my finger, I knew this was my carrot, the promise he would dangle over my head the next time he put his hands on me. With a diamond like this there was bound to be a next time. All of my friends had bruises and missing teeth that said as much. Bull had fucked with the wrong one, and for that reason, he had to be eliminated the right way. The smart way.
The legal way.
9
Kels
ey
I squeezed Briana tight, kissing her on the cheek. “I’m going to miss you so much, girl.”
“Girl, I’m going to miss you too,” Bri replied, kissing me on the cheek in return. “I promise to be back for Normani’s baby shower.”
“You better, or else I’m going to DC to drag you back up here myself. You got the keys to the condo, right?”
Bri laughed. “I do, but the last time I stayed at a condo of yours…”
“Well, I’m not in the vicinity so you have nothing to worry about. Plus, I hired some extra security for the building.” I held Bri’s cheeks in my hands. “Bri, that seat is there whenever you’re ready. It’ll always be there for you. No matter what.”
Morris cleared his throat from behind us. He was posted up on the side of his car, jingling his keys. “I don’t mean to rush, but you know how traffic gets after noon.”
“You’re absolutely right about that,” I cosigned, giving Bri one more hug.
Shonda, Prince, and Precious converged on Bri, telling her how much they loved her. Mal called from rehab to wish her the best on her new life. We stood in a little cluster, watching the couple drive off into the cold December afternoon. Shonda comforted me with a side hug, speaking for everyone when she said she would miss Bri with all her heart.
“Where are you headed, Kelsey?” she asked on the way to her car. “I closed the shop for today in order to send Bri off, but now I kind of want to go in so I can keep myself busy. My baby is really gone…”
“No, she’s not. She’s growing up,” I assured Shonda. “Morris is a good guy. He’ll make sure she’s well taken care of.”
“That’s the only reason why I’m going to be able to sleep at night. I guess he’s better than her being with…never mind.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Who?”
“Jamel.” She shrugged at my surprised expression. “I know the two of them were close, but there was always something about that boy that never sat well with me. He befriended her when she was at a very low point in her life…”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
Judging by her expression, it wasn’t. “In most cases, yes. Except I felt like Jamel was bringing out a different side of her, turning her into someone she wasn’t,” Shonda explained. “I wouldn’t dare place Briana’s personal responsibility on someone else, but with her fragile state she needed someone to lift her up, not allow her to grow hate in her heart. He’s always struck me as misery wanting company.”
When Morris and I visited Briana, she did seem a little different. More street than I recalled. “Why would he be miserable?”
“His father was murdered by a dirty cop ten years ago. He was never the same afterwards. Malone’s death must’ve triggered something in him. At the time, Bri and Eric were together, but the moment she came home after being cleared of Ayanna’s death, he was right there. He was the one who got her mixed up with that Goo character. Everyone could see he was in love with her except her, and I prayed she never would.”
“He took her leaving well…maybe he got over his crush?” I proposed.
“Give Kelsey a hug and get in the car,” Shonda ordered Prince and Precious, who trailed us quietly, getting all the adult scoop. We shared a group hug, with me promising to take them out to a movie. Shonda piled them into the car, shaking her head as she shut the door behind them. “No, I have a feeling he’s willing to wait this relationship out, though I’m praying he finds someone else to hover that dark cloud over.”
Shonda and I shared a hug, with me telling her that, “Bri’s going to be fine.”
Sitting in the silence of my car I tried to figure out what my next move was. Quill had called me earlier asking if I would like to go out for dinner. I hadn’t replied yet. I was aware of how wrong it was to hold his situation against him, especially after how forthcoming he had been with me, but all I could think of was how I had to deal with the second most traumatic event of my life with half a boyfriend. Resting against my headrest, I sighed, knowing exactly where I needed to go. Arden was kind enough to squeeze me in for emergency sessions. Sometimes I wondered if I was her only patient; I had yet to run into anyone entering or leaving her home. Today she waited for me in the doorway as if she just finished seeing someone off. Her smile was warm, and a little strained, matching her flushed face.
“Arden, if you were under the weather I would’ve waited until you’re feeling better,” I said, faltering as I reached the top step. “Why don’t we meet later this week…”
Arden waved off my worries. “Nonsense. I wouldn’t have had you make the drive if I wasn’t feeling up to it. Have a seat in the living room. I’ll be there in a minute.”
“How about you take a seat in the living room and I put on some tea? If you have the ingredients I can even make a chicken soup?”
“Kelsey, you don’t have to do that,” she replied, but I was already off, slipping out of my jacket on my way down the hall.
Arden had a beautiful family. Most of the pictures dotting her wall featured a handsome older black man and a little girl who had her eyes. They were family portraits, the same kind Shahily had us take for the holidays. Looking back on them, at my chemically treated hair and plastered on smile, I could do without them. But these, each picture was brimming with love.
“Audra is in her sophomore year of college. Howard University. I wanted her to attend my alma mater, Princeton, but she was all about black pride. She should be due home in a few weeks if she doesn’t sign up for any winter classes. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did; she takes this time of the year hard.” I looked up from the tea kettle I had set on the stove. “My husband passed away last year on Christmas. Pancreatic cancer.”
“I hate saying ‘I’m sorry’ whenever someone passes. It sounds so…pointless. No one in my immediate family has died as of yet, so I can’t even empathize. But that pain is unimaginable, and I pray you find the strength to continue.”
Arden took a seat at the kitchen island. “Thank you for your kind words. How about you tell me what brought you in today?”
“I’m worried that I’m moving too fast with Quill. I knew he had a lot going on in his life with Drea, Legacy, his work. He’s never pretended to be anything he’s not, which I’m grateful for. It’s just that as our relationship progresses the weight of his situation becomes more—”
“Real?”
I nodded.
“Why don’t you tell me what the defining moment was for you?” Arden queried, placing her head in her hands.
I relayed the entire conversation we had in the restaurant followed by the trip we took to the hospital for Legacy. Keeping busy preparing soup helped to clear my mind as I spoke on my fears and insecurities. I was once a sick baby; taking Quill away from Legacy made me feel like shit. That baby needed a man in his life to take care of him.
“Kelsey, what you have described is a normal human emotion. After enduring such a traumatic event, you’re seeking security and reassurance. There is nothing wrong with wanting that from your spouse. However, you have to be clear with what you want from him instead of deflecting or avoiding him.” Arden took a sip of the tea I placed in front of her. “I think you like the idea of him having a lot of ‘drama.’”
“Arden, you’re usually spot on, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“William has set up a system in which he can balance his personal life with no hiccups. His routine hasn’t changed, and you began looking for its faults. Drea needing to be taken to the hospital was a confirmation to you that he would always have someone in his life who requires his attention. But I can tell you this; if it wasn’t Drea, it was going to be someone or something else. A phone call, a friend, a—”
“Stupid car he’s always driving around that doesn’t belong to him,” I mentally slapped myself on the forehead. “What should I do?”
“I think you need to decide if you have the ability to put your all into this relationship. Tragedy has brought
you together, but it can’t be the glue keeping you together,” Arden finished.
She was right. I was pushing Quill away because of my own uncertainties and it wasn’t fair to him. With the soup simmering, Arden relocated the rest of our session to the living room, where I came up with clear and concise wording to figure out what I was going to say to Quill. He called me as I was heading out, asking if I could meet up with him. The address he gave me wasn’t to a hotel, nor was it to a restaurant.
“This can’t be right,” I said, double checking that I was at the right place.
The Bedford Stuyvesant apartment building was a nondescript, three-story walk up wedged between two more identical buildings. On the first floor was a doctor’s office, next to it a fish market filling the moderately busy street with the smell of steamed fish. I rang the doorbell, taking in my surroundings as I waited. My security parked behind me and across the street, their eyes raking over the area I was sure they deemed beneath me. The metal door opened with a loud creak, and Quill appeared, his expression a cross between excited and nervous.
“Quill, I’m not trying to be rude or anything, but I’m not in a people mood. How about we talk and…oh my goodness,” I said, eating my words as I stepped into the apartment.
It wasn’t the largest apartment, earning my approval instantly. New York City was filled with railroad apartments built in the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, and were the bane of existence for those who craved privacy. As I walked through the rooms, I felt comforted knowing there was one way in and out. This particular apartment had been remodeled, with brand new floors, built-in closets, and sliding doors separating the two bedrooms. I stood in the center of the master bedroom, running my hands across the solid oak, six-dresser set, stealing a peek at Quill in the mirror. He was watching me, waiting for my approval. We sat on opposite ends on the king sized bed.
