She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest

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She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest Page 25

by Shvonne Latrice


  “Thank you. We plan to buy a house; I mean, hopefully.” I shut the door behind her after taking the bottle. “You can have a seat, and I will go get Paul since the food is ready.”

  “Okay, great.” Camarih pranced to the couch. She was wearing jeans that clung to her shapely bottom, and a tight top.

  Setting the bottle of sparkling juice in the middle of the nicely set dining table, I tread to the back to let Paul know our guest was here. Entering the bedroom, I saw he was dressed in sweats, a wife beater, and white socks.

  “Paul, Camarih is here. Is that what you’re wearing?”

  “Yeah. I’m in my house, aren’t I?”

  I already knew he was in a bad mood once I saw what he had on. Paul usually would have put on normal clothes for this, not lounge clothes.

  “Yes, but she’s a guest, and we’re about to eat together. I’m dressed.” I gestured toward the dress I had on.

  “That’s why you’re Shanece and I’m Paul.” He kissed my forehead and slipped past me out of the room.

  I followed him and rushed around him so Camarih would see me first.

  “Camarih, this is my husband, Paul. Paul, Camarih.” I introduced them, and Camarih stood up, giving her bright smile with that one deep dimple.

  “Hi. It’s so nice to finally meet Shanece’s husband.” She stuck her hand out and Paul shook it.

  “So you know she has a husband, and yet you still invite her out, keeping her until past midnight at times.”

  “I—”

  “Okay! Let’s eat.” I took Camarih’s hand and led her to the table with Paul following us.

  We sat down, and I noticed as I placed Camarih’s plate in front of her, she was looking confused and bothered by Paul’s comment still. After I sat down, we said grace, then everyone piled their plates up with the tikka masala I’d made.

  “I’m sorry, why is it bad for Shanece to go out just because she’s married?” Camarih inquired, making me sigh on the low.

  Paul took a long gulp of the sparkling juice and replied, “Because it’s inappropriate for her to stay out late when she has a husband at home. You’re single and free to do whatever, so no one can say anything. But Shanece is a married woman.”

  “Yeah, I agree; it shouldn’t be an every night thing, but she’s still young, so she should be able to have some fun too, as long as it’s not disrespectful.” Camarih chewed her food. “And I don’t have her doing anything wild.”

  “What do you do, Camarih? Music videos?” Paul quizzed with a smirk. It was obvious he was being a jerk.

  “No. I have a skincare line. But until that can fully support me, I work at Angel Skin; it’s a skincare spa.”

  “Oh really? Is that it? I heard you danced at one of the clubs over in Hollywood.”

  “Some weekends.” Camarih adjusted herself.

  I didn’t know where Paul had heard that shit because I surely didn’t tell him. I knew he was skeptical of Camarih, but I had no idea he’d be such an asshole to her.

  “So you’re a single dancer, dating some knucklehead from the hood, and you wonder why I don’t want my wife around you.” Paul laughed before stuffing more food into his mouth.

  “Shanece is cool, so forgive me if I’m surprised that she’s married to such an ignorant asshole.” Camarih cocked her head with a fake smile. “I hate to say this, Shanece, but you can do much better.” She rose up.

  “Camarih—”

  “Get out of my house, speaking to me that way!” Paul slammed his fist down onto the table.

  “I was already leaving, grandpa.” Camarih snatched her purse from the chair.

  “Camarih, no, stay.” I stood up.

  “I’m okay. I will see you later.” She walked toward my front door, yanked it open, and left.

  “I hope you’re feeling good about all the stuff you just said.” I scooped up Camarih’s plate and then mine.

  “You don’t even know this girl, and you’re this upset because I spoke the truth? She’s single, flighty, and wrapped up with bad people, yet you expect me to welcome her with open arms?”

  “She is not a bad person, and she’s not wrapped up with bad people. You know no one she hangs around other than Tony Wacko, and you don’t even know him, you know of him.”

  “Same thing in this case. You need to find friends that live similarly to you—married.”

  “Well let me tell you right now that Camarih and I are gonna continue to be friends and continue to hang out. I am a grown ass woman; she has nothing to do with how late or how early I come home.”

  “You won’t be hanging with her if I have anything to do with it.”

  “How weak do you think I am? You believe I’m gonna cheat or something?”

  “Maybe so.”

  “Well husband, maybe you should work on your attitude so cheating on you will be less appealing.” I knocked his hot plate into his lap and then left the kitchen as he wailed.

  I loved Paul, but this cancer excuse was getting old.

  Later that night…

  While Paul slept in the master, I was in the second bedroom, on the little ass twin bed. For as long as I’d been with him, we’d never slept apart. Even when he had long stays in the hospital, I was right there. Feeling like shit, per usual, I climbed out of the bed and made my way to the master bedroom.

  “Paul?” I whispered his name as I crept into the big bed and under the hefty covers.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean it, and I would never cheat on you.” I rubbed his frail back.

  He was silent but then turned to face me. Even with most of the weight in his face gone, he was still so handsome. I remember my grandmother would always say, only a truly attractive person can be appealing whether super fat or super skinny. That was Paul.

  Although he was quiet, I pecked his lips.

  “I apologize too, baby.” He sighed right after speaking. “I’m just used to you only being away from me when you’re at work. And knowing how weak I am, I wouldn’t be surprised if you met someone else.”

  “Paul, I love you. If it was that easy for me to cheat, I wouldn’t have married you.” I held his big hand. “I just want you to try to be nicer to me. I get that this situation is hard to accept, and I don’t blame you for having bad days, but I love you, and you should still be able to show me you love me too, even in the midst of all this.”

  Touching my face gently, he smiled. “That’s why I married you. You’re smarter than me. I was told a wife should always be more intelligent than her husband.”

  “Well you chose right.” I giggled, and he joined me.

  “I did.” His smile faded, so he added, “And I want the chance to apologize to Camarih. She is a sweet girl.”

  “I told you, meanie.”

  “Which makes me wonder how she ended up with Tony Wacko.”

  “I wondered the same, but somehow, they work. You have to see them together.”

  “Maybe I can. You should bring me with you the next time y’all are out.”

  “Yeah, okay.” I grinned, happy to hear Paul wanted to leave the house.

  After simpering at one another for a moment, we began kissing, slowly removing each article of clothing. We hadn’t had sex in almost seven months, so I was excited at the moment.

  Pushing me onto my back, Paul got in between my legs and slid himself inside, causing us both to moan somewhat loudly. As he moved in and out of me, I smiled as much as I could through the coos, happy that although sick, he still had some good dick.

  Our hands intertwined as he pinned mine to the bed, allowing me to lock my legs around his body as he hammered me.

  “Damn.” He grunted, making me cum, before turning me over and slipping back inside.

  He caught me off guard with the way he pounded me as if he had his old strength, forcing me to release twice back to back.

  “Mmm, shit.” I bit down on my lip, digging a hole in the mattress.

  A couple minut
es later, Paul released inside of me just as I creamed on him. Collapsing together, we breathed heavily, before facing one another and continuing to kiss.

  No matter what we went through, I knew Paul was the one for me. I would do whatever to make sure we worked out.

  Camarih

  One week later…

  I sprayed my setting spray across my face once I finished my makeup, and then inspected myself in the mirror, spritzing on my Viktor&Rolf Bonbon perfume.

  My hair was back curly now, so I let it hang down since it was a fresh second day wash-n-go. I wore a leopard sleeveless bodysuit, and some skinny jeans, along with my new Balenciaga heels.

  Once I had on my earrings and Rolex, I waltzed into the living room where Tony was seated on the couch emailing away. He wore black Adidas track pants, a white Balenciaga shirt, along with the original black on white Adidas. His watch and bracelet were a nice touch, and I could already smell his Hermés cologne before I got to him.

  “Do I look fat?” I questioned, fixing my purse on my shoulder.

  Looking up from his phone, he replied, “Only by the ass.”

  “Tony, for real!”

  “I’m serious as fuck. You need to start looking pregnant so muthafuckas know that pussy is already on lockdown.” He walked to me smoothly, slipping his tattooed arms around my body.

  “I think they already know. I got random people at the corner store calling me Mrs. Wacko.”

  “You know you like that shit.” His perfect teeth damn near penetrated his supple bottom lip as he squeezed my ass. I blushed unintentionally.

  “I like Camarih better.”

  “Fuck out of here. The way you blow me the fuck up all damn day no matter how busy you know a nigga is; you like muthafuckas knowing you my bitch.”

  “I do not blow you up! I just need things.”

  “You don’t be needing shit. Calling me to ask where the fucking keeno or whatever the fuck that weird, nasty looking ass shit you be trying to cook for me.”

  “It’s quinoa, nigga. And it’s better for you than rice.” I grinned hard when he made a face.

  “I’m from the hood.” He palmed his chest. “I like pork chops, ribs, pussy, and macaroni. I don’t fuck with all that vegan shit.”

  This nigga called everything vegan that wasn’t drenched in barbecue sauce, pork, or steak. How was tilapia vegan?

  “Don’t throw pussy in there.” I laughed as he led me out of the door.

  “You bet not embarrass me tonight. Muthafuckas can’t know I be eating quinoa and passion fruit chicken and shit.”

  I cackled as he opened the door to his Grand National for me.

  “I won’t, baby.” I responded once he was in the car.

  Tonight, we were meeting his baby sister Jilly for dinner. I was hoping his stepmom would come, but he said she wasn’t really important in his life. He told me Jilly was the only woman I should be worried about.

  My mind often drifted to Brielle. She was his stepsister, but Tony didn’t seem to be too fond of her either. I knew my man wasn’t exactly friendly, but the way he brushed her off and the way she looked at me when she saw us together gave me a weird feeling. I knew no way they’d messed around, because that was some white people shit, but something was off between them. Maybe they shared some traumatic memory that I would eventually be able to pry from Tony down the line.

  Just twenty minutes later, Tony and I were walking into Ruth’s Chris. He told them his name, and that Jilly was already there, so they led us to her table in the back.

  “Bro!” A pretty, light-skinned girl with long brown hair hopped from her seat and rushed Tony. “Oh shit. Hey girl!” She hugged me next. We were what for what in height, standing at about five feet four.

  “Hi.” I chuckled at her excitement.

  “You are just as pretty as on Instagram. You know how hoes be looking totally different in person.”

  “Yes. I do know. Nice to meet you.” I sat down after Tony pulled my chair out, making Jilly buck her eyes as she descended into hers.

  “So what kind of pussy you got?” Jilly drank some of her water.

  “Jilly, chill the fuck out,” Tony let her know.

  “I’m just asking because… Ruth’s Chris? My brother does not spend this type of money, especially not on a girl. And he never lets me meet them. I usually run into them on my own. You got him pulling out chairs, and I’m sure he got you that Rolex.”

  Damn, she was talkative as hell. I wasn’t sure what to address first, because it all came out seemingly at the same time.

  “Yeah, he did buy me the watch. I didn’t ask for it, however. I’m not into this type of stuff.”

  “I can tell from following you. That’s why I like you; real low-key and not flashy.”

  “Thanks.” I half smiled as Tony leaned over to kiss me.

  “You smell good as fuck.” He yanked my chair to be closer to his. He loved this scent, so I always wore it. “Going to the bathroom.” Tony got up, leaving me alone at the table with Jilly.

  The waiter came and took our drink orders, so I got a water, Jilly got a cocktail, and I ordered a cocktail for Tony as well.

  “Dang girl, he got you ordering drinks?”

  “It is not like that.” I raised my brow. “I know what he likes from here, so I might as well ask for it.”

  “Hmm, well I’m not just saying this because I’m his sister, but my brother must like you for real.”

  “You say that to all his dates?” I smiled.

  “Girl!” She laughed, so I joined her. “Dates? That nigga doesn’t go on dates! I don’t know if you know this girl named Joy, but she’s been fucking my brother for years and can’t get more than a plate from Norms. Come to think of it, they go Dutch even there.”

  “I’ve run across her, but I wouldn’t say I know her.” Accepting my water from the waiter since it came first, I sipped it. “So I’m the only woman you’ve met formally?”

  “Yep. Nigga told me to dress nice and everything. And my brother don’t care about no bitch, so whatever is in yo’ coochie, good job, girl.”

  “How do you know I fucked him?” I cocked my head but then began chortling when Jilly looked at me like she was saying ‘bitch please’.

  “I think we can be cool though. You don’t seem to be his little puppy like his previous hoes.”

  “Well I’m not his hoe, for one. I’m his girlfriend, and yes, I do think we’d get along.”

  Jilly smirked as the waiter brought her drink and Tony’s as well. She took a sip but then lit up at the sight of someone behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I spotted a tall chocolate dude with some little twist things in his hair. He was tall, lean, and had no facial hair.

  “Camarih, this is my man, Vernon. Vernon, this is my bro’s girl, Camarih.” Jilly introduced us after kissing him.

  “Oh, I didn’t know you’d be joining. Nice to meet you.”

  “Damn.” He mumbled, staring me down until Jilly nudged him. “My bad. Nice to meet you too.”

  I frowned for a second because his reaction to me was a bit disrespectful, considering Jilly was his girlfriend and standing right here.

  “And he wasn’t supposed to come, but I figured this could be a double date thing.”

  Vernon and Jilly sat down next to one another, which was across from Tony and I. Speaking of Tony, I smelled him coming closer, so I turned around wearing a smile, but he was scowling.

  “Fuck is he doing here?” He pointed to Vernon, looking at Jilly, who seemed frightened.

  “Bro, chill. I thought since I was meeting Camarih, it’d be okay for me to have my man here.”

  “Nigga, you know damn well I don’t fuck with yo’ hoe ass. What you thought, ’cause we was in this fancy ass restaurant, I wasn’t gon’ do shit?” Tony ran off.

  “Man, come on. I’m here for Jilly.” Vernon touched her arm.

  “Nah, bruh. Get yo’ ass up ’fore you get the shit knocked out of you,” Tony warned, prompting the people at
the tables nearby to stare.

  “Baby—” I touched Tony’s arm, and he looked down at me with an expression that said this wasn’t the time for me to play referee.

  “Let’s just have—ah!” Vernon shouted when Tony yanked his ass up out of his chair by his mini twists, bringing him across the table.

  Jilly and I both hopped up as Tony slammed his fist into Vernon’s face, causing people to scream. Vernon scrambled to his feet and darted behind a table belonging to an old couple. Wow! He was either a bitch, or he knew Tony was psycho.

  “Gentlemen, this will not be tolerated!” A woman ran over, who appeared to the manager.

  “Back the fuck up, or yo’ ass is next.” Tony looked down into her face as she was about to touch his arm. She sighed but then Tony barked, “Who you rolling yo’ fucking eyes at?” ready to slap her.

  “Baby, she’s cross-eyed!” I yelled as I grabbed his forearm. How didn’t he know the difference?

  “Bitch looking at me all crazy, trying to cop a muthafuckin attitude.” He fussed, sitting back down. I mouthed that I was sorry to her, and although she was perturbed, she left us alone, I guess realizing Tony was ignorant as hell.

  “Sit down, babe.” Jilly had escorted Vernon back to our table.

  “Sit down if you want to.” Tony stared up at him as I hugged his strong arm tightly, lying my head on his shoulder. I was hoping that would make him hesitate before swinging again.

  Vernon stared back at Tony, nose covered in blood residue since the rest was on the white cloth napkin in Jilly’s hand.

  “Sit down, Vernon!” Jilly ordered him, angry that he was listening to her brother.

  It was still quiet, with everyone watching like a good TV show on Starz. I was surprised the police hadn’t been called.

  “Up to you.” Tony continued to look up at him.

  Seeing it wasn’t safe for his health, he replied, “I’ll just see you later, J.”

  “Vernon! Vernon!” She shouted as he slipped around her to leave. When he did, Tony acted like he was gonna get up, making Vernon flinch and Tony cackle as he drank his cocktail.

 

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