Her text didn’t phase me as much as how did she get my number? She undressed herself. I replied with a lie. Wasn’t me.
Lema followed with, Lying bitch! You Money2930. My brothers gon’ get you.
I don’t care about your brothers. Don’t come back to my club.
“Changed my mind about fucking your ex, Ramona,” Blitz said.
“Shitz, I’d do her right here. Right now,” Dallas said. “Those pictures she be postin’ puts me on swole.”
Noticed his shaft filling in. “You follow her, too?” I asked.
“Hell yeah. She’s got something like eight hundred thousand followers,” Trymm said.
“That’s tripled since Harold announced their engagement on television.” Blitz scrolled his finger up and up and up on his phone.
“When did that happen?” Dallas inquired. “Kohl, you knew about that?”
Wanted to say, “Still having flashbacks?” But I was more concerned about why all of them were following Ramona and not one of ’em mentioned her to me.
“Check this out.” Blitz showed me a photo of Harold Thurston leaning against his Rolls-Royce and then a picture of the old Ramona on her knees with an old man’s dick in her mouth.
I didn’t care where he’d gotten it. “Text that to me, bruh. Pronto.”
CHAPTER 25
Ramona
Day 11
I saw the tweets.
One read, Broke bitch came up, now she 2 good 2 speak.
Another mentioned, I knew you when you were sucking dicks for a dollar.
I’d never done any services for less than $20, but whatever I did, I did it for my son. For that, I didn’t owe any of those haters an explanation or an apology. Scanning the feed while Harold drove, the comments became more insulting.
Harold don’t marry that prostitute! Marry me! #imavirgin
You can blow me anytime Ramona. I’ll pay you. #adollarright
Trick wearing a watch the price of a house. Purse the cost of a car.
Ramona has herpes!!!!
That was a lie. Harold parked in front of William’s Catholic school. Parents were outside waving, fanning, and holding picket signs:
NO HOOKER’S KIDS ALLOWED
PROTECT OUR KIDS FROM PROSTITUTES
WILLIAM GO HOME!
RAMONA DANDRIDGE IS A DISGRACE TO OUR SCHOOL AND TEAM
HAROLD THURSTON DO NOT MARRY RAMONA DANDRIDGE!
The ringleader capturing it all, and conducting interviews, was Lisa Dozier. I opened my door to curse out her and all of those alcoholic, stay-at-home moms on prescription drugs.
Harold grabbed my biceps. “Stay put.”
He looked over his shoulder at my son. “William, don’t let anybody tell you what or who your mother is and what she means to you. She struggled to take care of you. I got your mom and your back. That’s all that matters.”
“Yes, sir,” William answered, then lowered his head. “None of this would be happening if my father hadn’t disowned me.”
The tone of my son’s voice was the sadness Kohl had never heard, but I’d listened to it too many times. William was right. I did what I had to because Kohl refused to accept responsibility for his actions. If I saw his punk ass again, he had another fist to the face coming.
“Hold your head high. You eat what you earn. Nobody owes you anything. Not your father. Not your mother. Keep getting straight A’s. I’m going to show you how to use your superpower for good.”
William smiled. “Like President Obama?”
“Exactly. Let’s go.”
I watched my fiancé place his hand on William’s shoulder, bypass the protestors that were screaming at both of them. Entering the front door of the school’s main building, Harold ignored whatever Lisa Dozier had whispered in his ear. Before Harold came back through the doors they’d entered, a security guard gathered the angry parents and reporter into a huddle.
Whatever he said to them, the parents left dragging their signs. Lisa packed her microphone, got in the news van. Harold sat behind the wheel, drove us to the lakefront, and turned off the engine.
Grayish waves rippled toward the cement barrier. Kohl had brought me here a few times when we were teenagers. If I hadn’t had William, I probably wouldn’t be here with Harold.
Holding hands, we strolled the deserted area.
Before Katrina, the lake was packed with families enjoying picnics. People chilling and blasting music from their cars or portable speakers. Some tossed footballs. Others feasted on crawfish that was stacked high on top of newspaper.
I had to ask, “What did you tell them?”
Harold held my hand. “I’m not going anywhere. If they kept allowing people to disrespect us, we’d homeschool William and they’d never receive another donation from us.”
Wow. I’m not sure why I deserve this man, but thank You, Jesus, for Harold.
“Take care of all the details. When I get back from my trip, we are getting married,” he said, then picked me up and spun me around.
“Yeah, we can silence all the haters,” I said.
Harold passionately kissed me. Lowering me to a standing position, my fiancé tapped on his cell, placed it on speaker.
Someone answered, “Whatever you need. I’ve seen the posts, man.”
“Forget those fools. I need you to process a court order demanding Kohl Bartholomew take a paternity test for William Bartholomew. If William is his, we’ll go public with that information and file for back child support. If William isn’t his, we’re changing William’s last name to Thurston.”
I was 1,000 percent sure Kohl was the father, but hearing Harold request that order, I fell in my man’s arms and cried.
CHAPTER 26
Kohl
Day 14
“This fried chicken is almost as good as Manchu’s,” Gurl 42 said, sucking the bone.
Harold hadn’t called off the engagement to Ramona. That was disappointing. Guess he had too much plastic invested in all that plastic.
Why hadn’t I thought of Manchu? I could’ve gotten one hundred wing pieces for $50. “I bet you can throw down in the kitchen,” I said, texting Gurl 30, Thinking about you. I copied and paste the same message to Gurls 31 to 39 with a big red balloon heart that would inflate when they read the message. Later I’d add their videos to my pages Money2930. I was the only crewe putting up real numbers.
Grabbing two handfuls of buttocks, I jiggled Gurl 42’s cheeks. “I have to get to the club. Have a delivery coming in.” I rocked her in my arms. “I would like to see you again.”
She picked up her plate, dumped six leg bones into my trash. “I’m free tomorrow after I get off.”
Leaving the opportunity open for a repeat, maybe in October or whenever I’d become bored, I told her, “Sure. Let me text you,” knowing darn well Friday was out of the question.
A text registered from the pastor’s wife, Can I come by your club now for an encore?
Gurl 34 replied, Miss you much.
37 texted, Had a great time.
Gurls 32, 38, and 39 wanted to get with me soon.
The attention was great. Gurl 29 hit me, Go fuck yourself!!!!! I hope you die!
Damn, that’s rude. Guess she’d seen her post, but I prayed she couldn’t trace her steps back to me the way Lema had. I wasn’t offended by anyone, including Gurl 29. Everyone had to die at some point. I’d never created any drama in my parents’ tabernacle. Wasn’t about to start. Best not to respond to Eleanor.
Opening the door for my guest to leave, a stranger greeted me, “Hey, Kohl. Man, what’s up?”
I was quiet. Had never seen him.
“Kohl, don’t be rude to the man,” Gurl 42 said. “See you tomorrow.”
Only if she made it to Kash In & Out. Loved how I got paid every time my clients inhaled hookah, and when they dropped dollars on my strippers, I took a cut.
“What’s up, my brother?” Handing me an envelope, he said, “You’ve been served.”
I suspected it was Gurl
6 trying to make me roll out dough for her. She should’ve thought about her reputation before voluntarily shaking her naked ass on my stage. Inserting my finger into the gap, I removed the letter. Court papers from Ramona demanding a paternity test.
If bad Billy was my biological, and Harold followed through with the ceremony, I could be the one collecting child support. I drove straight to the address on the document.
“I’m here to prove I’m the father. What do you want?” I asked the woman behind the desk.
She replied, “The same thing all women want. Blood.”
Yeah, if she’d let me do her, she’d have to stand in line behind a number of angry women that wanted to make me bleed.
A text registered from Lema: You know not the day nor the hour. My brothers are going to make you wish you were dead.
Women. If she really thought her being exposed was my fault, Lema was the dumbest woman of them all.
CHAPTER 27
Kohl
Day 17
“Well! Huh! I say, ‘he who is without sin,’ uh-huh! ‘Cast the first stone.’ ” My father stomped his foot. “You didn’t hear me? Huh! I said, ‘he who is without sin, cast the first stone.’ ” He shuffled his feet, pumped his arms back and forth. His belled sleeves swayed like he was preparing to take flight.
Sweat rolled down the sides of Pastor Bartholomew’s face as he looked out over his faithful congregation less than a hundred members strong. He swiped that perspiration away with his handkerchief. Hopefully, that wasn’t one of the ones I’d used to clean up Eleanor’s bodily fluids two weeks ago.
Watching the assistant pastor’s wife out of my peripheral, I did my routine nod in response to my dad’s message. Daintily, Eleanor raised her right pointing finger. Without turning, she motioned a discreet “come hither” to me, then tiptoed through the rear doors. I’d avoided her throughout the week, but Sundays were inevitable. Recalling how she’d gushed all over me in my dad’s chambers, I felt my legs go wet. I got a tingling sensation in my groin.
Tempted to get up and give Mrs. Lewis what she craved, I knew that smashing her twice would be a waste of an orgasm. I replied to Gurl 37’s text received three days ago, Me too.
“Are we justified to seek revenge when others have done us wrong, when we do not acknowledge nor ask for forgiveness when we are the culprit? Huh! Ya heard me. Turn to the person on your left, and repeat after me.”
Wow. I paid zero attention up to this point. I faced a young girl, ten years of age, maybe. Females developed fast these days. With all the colorful ribbons in her hair, she could’ve been eight or nine. It was hard to tell, but this was my first time noticing how the innocence in her brown eyes shined bright. She must’ve been a visitor. Hadn’t seen her here before.
The pastor said, “Forgive me if I have sinned against you, for it is my job to protect, not to hurt, you, for I am my brothers’ and my sisters’ keeper.”
Nothing could be farther from the truth right now, Dad. Regurgitating the words, being reared in The House of the Lord, I’d become immune to harboring guilt for my sins. Everything was sinful. The little girl’s mouth moved, but I could not hear a word she’d spoken.
“Turn to your right and face your neighbor,” my father said.
Seated on the end, I stared at the purple, red, green, and blue stained-glass window. No one was there for me to exchange words with. I took this opportunity to go see where the assistant pastor’s wife was.
“I erase all animosity in my heart against anyone that I perceived have mistreated me,” my father said as I exited into the rear.
Peeping in the study, I saw she was there. I said, “Get her ready for me. I have to get this urine out the way.”
I let her use my dad’s private restroom. I entered the men’s restroom. In the middle of releasing myself, I heard a little voice telling me not to sex Mrs. Lewis. Returning to my seat, I noticed Assistant Pastor Eric, or as I called him at one time, Reverend E, was not in the pulpit.
“If you need a church home, don’t wait,” my father said. “Tomorrow is not promised.” His “huh” was softer. He glanced over his shoulder to the seat where his assistant always sat throughout the message. “Today isn’t promised.” He looked back at his congregation. “All we have is—”
“Woman, what the hell you doin’ up in here naked!” resounded from the back.
My dad looked over his shoulder, then quickly faced the congregation, and continued, “All we have is—”
“Eric, get your dumb ass outta here right now!” Eleanor shouted.
Mrs. Lewis shocked me. I kept a blank look on my face.
Pastor Bartholomew motioned for the organist. He pressed on the keys, playing “Just a Closer Walk with Thee.” The choir stood, sang, “ ‘I am weak, but Thou art strong/Jesus, keep me from all wrong.’”
“Will you come and be saved,” my dad said as if he hadn’t heard a word of the Lewises’ argument.
No one stood.
Gurl 37 replied, I’m cooking supper. Come ova.
Females in New Orleans, if they liked you, they weren’t really asking you to come eat. It was more like, you’d betta show up. I decided not to respond to Gurl 37. Maybe for another three days.
“Yes, my child. Hallelujah! Welcome to The House of the Lord,” the pastor said.
A text from Dallas registered, After this challenge, I’m visiting your church, man. I need Jesus.
I went on Ramona’s page. I’d messed up. She should’ve been sitting next to me instead of the little girl with her mom. I wondered what my mother and father looked like. Why had they put me up for adoption? That was a can of worms not worth opening.
Interrupting my thoughts, the pastor asked his usual, “What’s your name, child?”
This scripted segment would last another ten minutes. One of the missionaries would escort whoever was up there in the back. Hopefully, Eleanor had gotten dressed. Or maybe her husband was able to get it up and he was undressed.
“Lema Harrison.”
Fumbling my cell, I looked up. Aw, hell. Gurl 6. Showing up at my place of worship? She’d taken this social-post backlash too far.
“Where are you from?” my dad asked.
“The lower ninth,” she said, staring at me.
Pop. Smack. Pop. Smack. Pop. Gurl 6 blew a big pink bubble. Pop. It splattered over her lips. Sucking in the chewing gum, she said, “I didn’t come to join. I came to deliver a message. You have thirteen days to leave my city. You,” she said to my father. “You,” she said, pointing at my mother. “And that bitch-ass nigga right there.” Lema pointed at me, then walked down the aisle real slow.
She paused, stared at me. “Your time starts now, bitch.”
Getting out of my seat, I followed her outside. Two guys, one on each side of the door, grabbed me under my arms. Nosy members stood behind me. I was nervous, but refused to show it.
“Look, man, I apologize.” My feet did the Running Man, but they weren’t on the ground. “I made a dumb mistake. I’ll take the video down.”
“What the fuck? You mean our lil sis is still up?” One of the guys pulled out a gun, fired a shot in the air.
“Nigga, you ready to die at church?” The other brother fired off two bullets. “Take that shit down right now!”
They released my arms and I stumbled, then stood up straight.
Gurl 6 sat on the backseat in the car with the door open with her phone up to her ear laughing as I deactivated all my Money2930 pages. I said a silent prayer. Lord, please get me out of this situation. I knew better than to turn my back on these goons.
I stood there, pivoting my head from one to the other. Where was Dallas when I needed him? Blitz and Trymm wouldn’t do shit if they were here. I took that back. Blitz would laugh hysterically, videotape, then put me on social. He was that dude.
If anybody deserved to die, it was me. Not the people in the tabernacle screaming. Sirens blared in the distance.
“Fuck thirteen days, nigga. Y’all ne
ed to rise up and get ghost tonight,” one of her brothers told me.
“Yeah, don’t let us catch you on the streets after midnight,” the other brother said.
“Fuck, fuck with, text, or say boo to my baby sis again, I dare you. Everybody in this bitch is going down,” her brother told me.
“Ya heard me,” the other brother said. “They gon’ die twice.”
How was that possible?
Getting in a black SUV with Gurl 6, the tinted windows were ridiculously dark. The doors closed and I couldn’t see either of them. I watched the mob drive off as the police parked in their spot.
I was pissed that I didn’t have my piece. I could’ve fired in self-defense. Didn’t think I needed to strap up at church. Starting today, I was going to carry like my boy Dallas on a daily. Two guns on Sundays.
My father stood beside me. “I knew one day that sinners’ club would bring trouble here. Your mother and I built The House of the Lord from the ground up. This ministry is all we have. Son, don’t lead the devil into my church again.”
I nodded, but I had no idea how to keep the Harrisons from returning, even if I didn’t come back.
My father placed the donation I’d made today, twenty-five $100 bills, in my hand, then whispered in my ear, “I’ll arrange for you to start making cash deposits directly into the church’s account, but don’t come back here ever again.”
Thought he was going to tell me my money was no good.
The day my dad ostracized Ramona resurfaced. She was poor, pregnant with a child, and in the one place that should’ve embraced her, my father had kicked her out.
And I had shut her out when she was nineteen and pregnant with what could be my dad’s first grandchild.
CHAPTER 28
Kohl
Day 20
I’d survived quite a few of the Harrison’s midnight deadlines. What is with the Harrison brothers and that number thirteen? Hopefully, that was an idle threat too. I was ten days from winning, hopefully. Worrying about Ramona and Lema couldn’t let them set me back.
Head Games Page 14
