I snatched up the phone from my dresser and answered with an attitude without looking at the caller ID.
“Hello,” I answered angrily.
“Damn, bitch, what’s wrong wit’ yo ass?” Paula quizzed.
“Sorry, boo, didn’t know it was you.” I lowered my voice quickly.
“Well, bitch, are you sitting down?”
“I’m laying down. Why? What’s going on?”
“You know I don’t try to get into you and Omari’s business…” She paused.
I sensed it was serious and wished she would just hurry the fuck up and tell me whatever it was that she was trying to say. Whatever it was couldn’t be good.
“Well, I was down here at the event, and I saw Omari and a few females walking. I decided to be nosey and saw him all up in this one bitch’s face. I believe she is a Yankee gyal.”
“Okay, you know that he’s playing music and all them bitches be on him like that. It ain’t no biggie.” I shrugged even though I was sideways bothered.
“Bitch, you better listen to what I’m telling you. You know I be talking to his boy, Don, so last night I asked him about Omari and the bitch I saw him with. That’s when he spilled everything while I rode his wood. Bomboclaat gal, ‘im tell mi, say a di gal weh Mari meet the otha night. Him also tell mi dat dem dey ova at his house.”
I jumped up off the bed and stood up. I pressed the phone closer to my ear. I wasn’t sure I heard her right, but she continued talking, and I was hanging on to every word she was spitting out. The veins in my head were getting bigger, and I had an instant headache.
“Gyal, why yuh suh quiet? Yuh need to bring yo rass down here and see what the fuck is going on.”
“I’ll see you lata.” I didn’t wait for a response. I then dialed Omari’s phone number, but it was turned off. I decided not to leave a message because I didn’t want to alert him of my intentions. I called him a few more times, but the result was still the same.
I then dialed my mother’s phone. “Hello,” she answered in an upbeat mood.
“Hey, Mama. I need a favor from you.”
“What yuh want now?” She responded like I was bothering her.
“I need you to watch the kids real quick. I’ve got a run to make.”
“You know it’s the weekend, and mi ‘ave some run around to do. Cho man.”
“I know Mama, and I’m sorry. Some business just came up, and I need to run to Ochi real quick.”
“Alright, but yuh need to drop them off because mi is polishing this floor.”
I was sick of her rudeness, but I really needed her right now, so I gave her a pass.
“Thanks, Mama.”
I hung the phone up and walked outside to get the kids from next door, where they were playing with the neighbor’s kids. I quickly got them dressed and took them to Mama’s house.
After that, I went home and searched my closet for a pair of shorts, a wife beater, and a pair of worn out J’s. I grabbed my ratchet knife and a pack of razor blades. I had no idea what I was walking into, but whatever it was, I was ready for anything and everything. That nigga had lost his pussy claat mind.
I locked up the grill and jumped in my car. I backed out in a haste because I knew I needed to hurry. I was getting on the highway, so if I was lucky, there would not be any traffic, and I’d be there in an hour tops. I stopped by the gas station, filled up the tank, and soon I was well on my way.
My heart was hurting, and tears filled my eyes as I thought of my husband disrespecting me in the worst way. I knew that I was cheating on him, but at least I kept that shit discreet. Nobody could tell him that they saw me around town with his boy.
I turned on the radio, and She’s Still Loving Me by Morgan Heritage was playing. Tears flowed down my face as I gripped the steering wheel.
Honk! Honk!
The sound of a bus horn startled me back to reality. I swerved and maintained my lane. Glancing at the time, I saw that I was almost there. My phone started ringing. I picked it up, looked at the caller ID, and noticed that it was old boy calling me. I wished he would leave me the fuck alone right now. See, I couldn’t stand an old clingy ass nigga. Nigga, you’re the side piece, so please play your position.
Finally, I saw the sign that said, ‘Welcome to Ochi Rios’. My heart started racing more as I envisioned how things might turn out. I’d been to his boy’s house numerous times, so I knew exactly where I was going. I thought of calling Paula but quickly changed my mind. She was my right hand and all, but she was fucking Don, and I’d known bitches who betrayed their friends over some dick. I didn’t want to risk anybody tipping Omari off.
I pulled up at the residence and immediately saw Omari’s car in the driveway. I started having second thoughts of going to the door. I was a bad gyal, and I didn’t fear no one or nothing. I parked my car, grabbed my purse. got out, and walked up the marble driveway. After I rang the doorbell, I waited impatiently. I heard movement, so I knew that someone was inside.
I heard the lock snap and the door opened.
“Yo… Wh…what the bomboclatt…?”
“Hello…husband.” I wasted no time greeting my husband, who was standing in front of me in his boxers and white wife beater with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.
“Yo, Angie, what’s going on? How’d you know I was here?”
“The question is, who the fuck you here with, nigga?” I tried to push past him, but he quickly blocked my path.
“Yo, you’re trippin’. Where’re the kids at? And what the fuck you doing here?”
“Yo, Omari, yuh tink mi a play? Which gal yuh ‘ave inside of there?”
“B, yuh trippin’. Ain’t no girl in here. I played all night, and I was tired, so Don let mi come over here to get some sleep.”
I looked at that lying ass nigga with rage in my eyes. I knew how his nose flared up when he was feeding me bullshit.
“Omari, is everything okay?” I heard a bitch’s voice ask before she walked to the door.
I could tell that she was just as shocked as I was, but I maintained my composure. There was no way I was going to let that bitch see me sweat.
“Who is this, Omari?” she asked in her American accent.
“Hello, bitch. You must be the one that I got the call about. This here is my husband, and if you were fucking him, your dirty ass was fucking a married man.”
Her mouth dropped open. Before she could reply, I leaped over Omari and grabbed that bitch. I don’t even think he saw that coming, but if he really knew me, he would have known that I rarely argued with bitches. I’d lay these hands on them first then ask questions later. That bitch was petite, but her blows were hitting hard. She was definitely matching each hit. Omari tried to grab me up, but I started kicking and scratching him. “Let me go. Yuh need fi hold yo bloodclaat gyal before I hurt her.” I sunk my teeth deep down in his arm.
“Fuck B!” he yelled and let go of my ass.
I started running back toward the bitch who was standing there, trying to question Omari. I could tell that he was not trying to hear all of that right now.
“Yo B, you need to leave up out of here!” he yelled with fire spitting from his eyes.
I was kind of shocked that my husband was standing there, dissing me for a bitch that he’d obviously just met. My eyes started to tear up, but I used everything in me to not let out any sign of weakness.
“I didn’t know you were married,” that bitch stated.
“DiDi, I can explain.” He turned his attention away from me and towards that home wrecking bitch.
“I’m standing here and you’re catering to that bitch. What kind of bloodclaat shit you on?” I grabbed my husband’s arm.
“ANGELA, I SAID GO HOME!” He stepped closer to me and yelled, while spit flew out his mouth onto to my face.
I could no longer hold the tears, and my heart started racing as I struggled to get an understanding of what was really going on. I looked at the man standing in front of me, and I di
dn’t recognize him. How could he treat me like that? I had no idea what the fuck was going on, but I was married to him, and there was no way I was going to walk away from him.
In the midst of the chaos, I heard the door behind me open up. It was Don and my bitch, Paula.
“Don, this is how you do me? Yuh kno’ mi and Omari is married, and yuh let im bring dis nasty gal up in here.” I walked over to him.
“Angela, mi nuh ‘ave nuttin’ fi do wit’ dis,” he said and walked off into the kitchen.
“Are you okay?” Paula quizzed. “Omari a fuckery dis. How yuh fi diss har like this?” Paula poked him in the chest.
“Yo, B, mind yuh bloodclaat business. Dis don’t concern you.”
“Go suck yuh muma, dutty bwoy. A my friend dis, so it concerns me.”
By that time, the bitch had walked off and grabbed her stuff, I guess, because by the time I tried to get in the middle of Omari and Paula’s argument, she was heading out the door with Don. I tried to run up on her, but Don pushed me back.
“Man, chill out wit’ all this. Shawty just trying to leave.”
“Man, fuck you and that bitch!” I yelled.
“Nah, you stupid hoe, fuck you. If you were such a good wife, your man wouldn’t be out here screwing around on you!” the bitch yelled as the door closed behind them.
I was devastated as I looked at Omari, who was putting on his clothes.
“Yo, I swear this over. Get the fuck outta my house and out of mi fucking life!” I yelled as I walked out the door. Paula ran outside behind me. “Why yuh didn’t tell mi yuh was coming. We could’ve whup that bitch ass together. Mi can’t believe a so Omari a deal wit’ yuh so star.”
“I’ve got to go! Mi ago call ya lata.”
I walked off, and tears continued rolling down my face. I couldn’t believe what had just happened. I jumped in my car and drove off. I was devastated and couldn’t think straight. That nigga, Omari, and his bitch would pay for what they did to me, I thought as I hit the steering wheel.
Chapter 11
Kadijah
After almost fifteen minutes of driving, Don pulled over on the side of the road and Omari’s familiar black Mercedes pulled up behind us. I rolled my eyes, hoping that his crazy wife wasn’t pulling up too. The last thing I needed was to catch a charge for murdering a bitch in a foreign ass county. I couldn’t believe that nigga was married. Why didn’t he just tell me that? Shit, I would’ve fucked him anyway being that I would be back in the States soon. Damn, at least he could’ve warned me.
“Why are you stopping?” I asked Don, knowing that we only had a good forty minutes to get to my hotel.
His girl, Paula, was pissed that he was taking me, but he told her to calm her nerves about it. It wasn’t like they were in a relationship or anything, according to him. It was clear now that Nicole wanted to leave because Paula had popped up. It was funny that I didn’t notice an extra car in the driveway when we left. It was also weird that Nicole hadn’t mentioned that to me. I just figured that Don had gone to bed. I guess she didn’t want to ruin my time with Omari. Shit, I was also sure she had no clue that the bitch who had popped up to see Don also knew Omari’s mystery wife.
“He wants to talk to you,” Don said as he looked over at me.
“How did his wife even know I was there? Did that chick you were fuckin’ tell her? Did you tell her?” I interrogated him, being that I didn’t see Paula until I saw Omari’s wife.
“To be honest, I didn’t know Paula was comin’ over. I’m sure Omari didn’t either. She got a different whip, so I don’t think he knew she was there.”
“Or he wouldn’t have been brave enough to take me back to your spot,” I added. “Can you please just drive off? I don’t want to talk to him. I’m good. I just want to enjoy the rest of my time here. I’ll pay you.”
Don was fucking Omari’s wife’s best friend. How convenient.
Don shook his head. “Keep your money. I know my boy, Omari. He wouldn’t give a fuck about talkin’ to any other woman after that, but for some reason, he wants to explain himself to you. Him and Ang been havin’ some problems for a while, and while he ain’t perfect, he ain’t a bad guy either. Something’s tellin’ me he’s feelin’ you… on some real shit.”
“I don’t give a fuck about none of that. He’s married, and I don’t have time for this shit. I just got into a fight with his wife, and that’s not what I envisioned as a highlight of my island vacation. I could’ve stayed my ass home and fought my ex’s girlfriend. Shit! Please, just get me out of here,” I begged, knowing that Don’s loyalty didn’t lie with me. That nigga was probably ready to leave me there with Omari to deal with that shit while he ran back to Paula.
All I could do was watch as Omari walked over to the passenger’s side of the car and open my door.
“Let mi apologize fi dat please. Jus’ let mi explain,” he started with a regretful look on his face.
I shook my head. “I don’t need an apology, or explanation, from you. You’re not my man - or anything close to that. Shit, you should be explaining and apologizing to your wife, not me.”
“Please, please, DiDi. Just give mi da time it’ll take to get you back to your hotel to explain myself to you. I’m beggin’ you.” Suddenly, he seemed to want to throw out the patois that I was used to him using and was talking more like me.
I guess he felt that was his way to get through to me, but all it did was help me understand what he was saying better. It didn’t make me care one way or another about what he was saying. Yeah, he had banged my back out and given me the orgasms I needed, but to hell with him. After what Daryn had put me through, I could give a fuck about a lying ass man, good dick or not.
When I glanced over at Don, he looked like he would rather be anywhere but there with us, trying to help diffuse a fucked up situation. It wasn’t like he had asked for any of that, but he had still given his boy a place to cheat on his wife.
“Just to let you both know, I’m pissed the fuck off because that bitch jumped on me without even attempting to get the whole fuckin’ story. I’m from the streets, so I ain’t new to that shit. However, if she’d stopped and asked me one question, she would’ve known that I didn’t know she existed. Still, how the fuck you gon’ let your boy do some shit like that at your spot? You’re just as bad as him.” Then, I looked at Omari. “And you, what the fuck? How could you put me in a position like that? Damn. In that case, I could’ve just stayed at the hotel with my girls. What if those bitches would’ve jumped me? What then? Shit, I’m thousands of miles away from home. That didn’t matter to you though, I’m sure. All you wanted was some Yankee pussy.” I mocked his accent. “This is some fuckin’ bullshit. Ain’t no dick worth this!”
Omari shook his head as he held his hand out for me. “Please, just let me get you safely to ya hotel. That’s not up to Don to do. Mi fucked up, mi know, but just let me do that.”
I refused to take his hand, but in a way, he was right. Don wasn’t the one who picked me up and took me to his house. It was Omari’s responsibility to make sure that I made it safely back to the resort. Without saying another word to Don, I got out of the car and walked off to Omari’s Mercedes. He stayed back to talk to Don for a second, and I got in the car.
After I buckled my seat belt, I looked out of the window and waited as Omari walked back towards his car. Fuck, why did he have to be so damn sexy with all that swag? His walk, the way he talked, and even the way he smelled all fucked with my head. It was just something about him. The poetic way that he talked and how he looked at me. It was like he could see right through me, and we’d just met.
Then, the thought of him being married crept back up to reality. Although it was only a sex thing, the chance of it being more had been a thought. Well, that was until his fucking wife knocked on the door and changed everything. Then again, who was I fooling anyway? I was on vacation, and that shit with Omari was just a fling. Why the hell was I reading more into it? He really didn’t
owe me anything. I was just some American girl he had fucked, nothing more and nothing less.
When he got in the car, I looked straight ahead without saying one word. For a good five minutes, he didn’t say anything else. Instead, he let Sizzla explain how much he needed his woman. Before I’d ever visited the island of Jamaica, I was a reggae fan, and I had always loved Sizzla. At the moment, I wanted him to turn that crap off. I wasn’t his woman; that bitch who jumped on me was. Why wasn’t he going after her instead of me? Was it because I was leaving soon, and she would still be there? Was the pum pum that good that he just had to have a little bit more before he made up with his wife?
“Mi apologized to you, but now I’m at a loss. Mi really ‘ave nothing else to say to make it up to you. To be honest… mi neva tought you’d let me… make love to you…”
“It wasn’t love… It was sex… We fucked.” I reminded him in a harsh voice.
“Either way, it took mi by surprise. Di way I felt, it was different from what… I’m used to.”
I rolled my eyes in annoyance because Jamaican men were just as bad as American men when it came to lying. That shit just sounded better.
“Please, just stop. Stop the lies please. You have a wife, and I’m sure y’all have children.”
He didn’t say anything.
“How many?” I asked in a low voice. The shit was just getting worse.
“Two.” He cleared his throat. “I won’t lie, DiDi. I love her because she had my children, but I’m not in love. If I was, I wouldn’t cheat.”
“So, you cheat a lot?” I knew that I wasn’t the first, but damn. “Why the fuck are you married then?”
“Mi have cheated a few times, but tis is the first time mi felt anything other than lust. When mi first laid eyes on you… it was something mi can’t describe. I can only say… it was a first… ya know. It made mi feel like… maybe I’m wit’ da wrong woman. Like mi said. Mi love Ang ‘cause she gave mi my yute, but… she… she ain’t mi soul mate; ya know?”
In Love With A Rude Boy, A Top Shotta's Love Story Page 6
