by Shan
Kareem wanted so much more in life and didn’t have time to wait for Cherie, but now as he sat across from her, he was starting to think otherwise. She looked so damn beautiful as he stared at her. Her eyes were sexily made up with a hint of eye shadow and the bangs that dropped before them made her face look soft and serene.
"Thank you for meeting me, Kareem. I really, really missed you," Cherie told him.
Kareem chuckled, "I missed you too Cherie. Sometimes I wish that things could have been different between us. You’re a great girl."
"Things can be different between us if you just give me a chance to make it right."
"I don’t know, Cherie. I want a wife; I want kids, and I want happiness. I don’t want to feel like I’m being used or that the only reason you’re with me is because I can provide a nice lifestyle for you. I want someone to love me as much as I love them.
I want my woman to treat me like a King because I will definitely treat her like a Queen. I want her to be able to go after her goals and know that she has my full support. I want her to feel secure with her life knowing that I am with her every step of the way. I don’t want every day that we are together to be about catching the new releases on bags and shoes. That’s just too much for me."
"I know Kareem. I will admit that when I got with you that I was driven solely by what you had, but I promise you after us being together for a while, I really did grow to care about you and love you. It's just--" Cherie paused as she forced a stream of water to leak from her eyes. "My mom taught me to be the way that I am, and I don't want to be this way. I wanna love people for who they are and not what they have. And that's the way that I love you Kareem."
Cherie was laying it on thick. She didn't have any other choice. If she heard another word from her mother about how she needed to get a husband with money like Quasym, she would die. Anytime Zaria wasn't around, Tammy consistently brought up the fact that Cherie was stupid for letting Zaria outdo her.
She was tired of hearing it and wanted to get her mama off her back by any means. Her first thought was to lie to Kareem and tell him that she was pregnant and couldn't get in contact with him to let him know. She only decided that it was best she didn't go with that lie when she arrived at Starbucks. It would mean that she would have to get pregnant just to keep from getting busted, and she wasn’t ready for that.
"You never told me that about your mom. I wish you would have," Kareem told her. He took a sip from his coffee and then reached out for Cherie’s hands. She placed her hands into his and they stared into each other’s eyes. She had him back, and all it required was for her to the truth and display some fake ass tears. She rose from her seat and leaned over the table placing her lips on Kareem’s. She sucked him into her mouth and savored the flavor of him. "Come on, let’s get out of here."
Cherie grabbed her cup of coffee and then grabbed Kareem’s hand. The two of them exited Starbucks headed back towards Kareem’s apartment. Cherie couldn’t wait to let her mom know that she’d gotten back in good with Kareem and how easy it had been. This was perfect and just what she needed. She knew the ring would be coming soon and that the two of them would be walking down the aisle. She would be right with Zaria as long as she played her cards right.
But just as she was getting comfortable that everything was where she needed it to be, Marco shot her text that fucked her head up: Damn, I was really feeling you. Even growing to care about you. A nigga was missing you, but I got the message. Holla.
***
Later that night, Cherie held two plates in her hand as she made her way toward the table. She sat one down in front of Zaria and then sat the other down for her. She looked over at the counter and noticed that she’d left their drinks sitting there. Hurriedly she walked over to them and grabbed them and then placed them on the table, as well.
Her head was floating in the clouds right now. Kareem and her made love for hours and she made him feel like he had been the only thing on her mind. She catered to his every need, but the problem was-she imagined that Kareem was Marco. She just couldn’t seem to let him go and that text just made it worse. He cared about her. He admitted it.
She knew that he wasn’t good for her, but everything about him just seemed so good. It was the way he touched her when they were together. The way he talked to her, the way he fucked her-the way he owned her pussy like it was his, as if it belonged to him. Marco had her head fucked up, but knew that no matter what, Kareem was who she had to be with. She couldn’t think about him anymore. She had to let him go and focus on becoming Kareem’s wife. She needed to do this in order to make her mama happy.
"Why you looking at my food like that?" Cherie asked with laughter. She noticed the frown on Zaria’s face and took a look at her food to see what was wrong with it.
"No, it looks good. Just feeling a little nauseated all of a sudden," Zaria told her picking her fork up. "Thank you for coming by to cook for me and spend a little time with me. I thought Marco had you too occupied that you forgot all about me."
Cherie laughed, "I’m not fucking with Marco’s broke ass anymore. Kareem and I got back together this morning and before I came here; we had some of the best sex I’ve had in a long time. Girl I had to get back in good with my cash cow. Don’t worry I’ll be a wife just like you one day soon with a big beautiful home."
Zaria rolled her eyes, "Really, Cherie. Last I heard you really liked Marco, and I thought you all were happy. What the hell happened?"
"How do you even know about Marco? Does Sym know?"
"Sym is the one that told me about him. He said that Devon told him that y’all were doing good. What happened?"
"He’s broke. You know I can’t fuck with no broke nigga, Zaria."
Zaria shook her head and rolled her eyes. She picked up a couple of green beans and shoved them into her mouth. Her sister was so shallow and she felt bad for Cherie. It would only lead her to being hurt, and Zaria wanted Cherie to get herself together before it ended up getting to that point.
"Cherie you need to stop being so damn shallow. And you need to stop going from man to man trying to get into their pockets before you end up hurt and by your damn self. So what if Marco don’t have much money."
"What the hell is he gonna do for me if he is broke? I’m not you! I can’t sit around talking to no broke ass nigga for years hoping and praying for a come up. You oughta feel real stupid for taking care of Sym’s ass all these years to only end up with a townhouse and a damn BMW. That nigga couldn’t get you a house after all he put you through…a better car than what you got?"
"Where is all this coming from? You starting to sound like your damn mama," Zaria pushed her plate away and frowned at her sister. She placed her arms over her chest and pushed out a heavy sigh.
"That nigga got you up in here babysitting his kid while he out fucking around you. You know he still fucking his baby mama, right? Everybody knows that shit, Zaria. I don’t understand how you still fuck with him knowing that shit. You need to divorce his ass, get him for his paper, and upgrade. It’s plenty of niggas out here doing better than him and Marco. Ol’ broke ass niggas! Them niggas ain’t-"
Cherie stopped when she noticed Quasym step into the kitchen. He removed his snapback fitted hat from his head and tossed it onto the cabinet. He hiked up his Cavalli jeans and glared at Cherie with contempt in his eyes.
"What’s up Cherie? You feeling some type of way?" Quasym asked her. He walked over to Zaria and placed a kiss on her cheek and then looked at Cherie again.
"Chmmp. Nigga, you know how I feel about you. What’s understood don’t even have to be explained. It’s been the same feeling for years."
"Bitch if you feeling some type of way about me then why the fuck you sitting in my house eating on my muthafuckin’ food?" Quasym swiped the plate in front of Cherie away causing it to hit the floor and shatter into pieces. "Bitch, get the fuck up!"
"Sym!" Zaria yelled. She reached out and grabbed his arm and tried to pull him away as h
e approached Cherie.
"Fuck you! I don’t have to be here. The only reason I came here was because you spend so much time fucking that bitch Tianna that you forget about your wife! Ol’ weak ass nigga! You couldn’t put your wife up in a house. You too busy shelling out money to your baby moms that you can’t afford to put your wife up in something nice. Broke ass nigga! You ain’t gonna never be shit!" Cherie didn’t even know if any of what she was saying was true. She had heard her mother repeat it so many times when she was drunk, that it had become etched into her brain. She hadn’t heard a rumor about Tianna and Quasym, but apparently Tammy had for her to keep saying it.
Quasym rushed Cherie knocking her from her seat onto the floor. He wrapped his hands around her throat wanting to choke the life out of her. He was so sick of Cherie and Tammy always putting him down. He could take it if they had said it to him, but when they said it to Zaria or when Zaria was around; it pissed him off. They were the ones planting the bad seeds in Zaria’s head. They were the reason she was so insecure and why they hadn’t been able to get back to normal.
"Sym! Get off of her! What the hell is wrong with you?" Zaria wrapped her arms around Quasym and with all her strength she attempted to pull him off of her sister. She had never seen him so angry before. He and Cherie always got into it so what had been so different about this time?
"Yea, y’all the ones got her feeling that shit and Zaria you stupid for listening to them! I don’t wanna ever see her or your muthafuckin’ mama in my shit again! You hear me?" Quasym spat as he moved away from Cherie. "I mean that shit. This bitch bet not come nowhere near my shit again! This hoe ain’t nothing but a gutta rat and wanna walk around this bitch like she better than the next. Hell yea hoe, I was once broke, but I betcha you’ll never see me that way again. While your ass tryna climb to the top, bitch I’m already there."
"You got me fucked up, Sym! Can’t believe you put your hands on me! You gonna pay for this shit," Cherie said as she stormed out of the kitchen.
Quasym followed behind her, "Bitch make me pay. Broke ass hoe. You the one ain’t got shit. Yea you stopped fucking with Marco cause you thought that nigga was broke. Hoe do your research. He swimming in that cash, and you ain’t even know it. Get the fuck outta here!"
Cherie pulled the door open and rushed outside. Tears fell from her eyes as she damn near ran to her car. She pulled the door open and jumped inside. She didn’t know what had gotten into her and why she just went off like that. She placed her car in reverse and rushed out of the driveway.
"Dusty ass bitch!" Quasym yelled and shot her the middle finger. He stormed back inside of the house and slammed the door shut behind him.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you do her like that?" Zaria asked him. Her face was flushed with heat as she looked into her husband’s eyes.
"What you mean? Why the fuck you didn’t do her like that? You heard how she was talking about me! I’m tired of that shit Zaria, and I ain’t tryna hear it no more! I’m not playing-I don’t want her or your mama back in my damn house!"
"Sym, that’s my family. I can’t just turn my back on them!"
"Your family down me every damn chance they get! Every time I see them they got something bad to say about me. You said yourself every time you around your mama she always putting me down and telling you how I’m not good enough for you. It’s either them or me! I’m not dealing with that shit anymore. I’ve been nice enough, but I’m done!"
"You’re gonna make me choose you over them?"
"I didn’t say who you had to choose, but you damn sure gotta choose. Hurry the fuck up and do it ‘cause your home girl done got locked up, and I need you to post her bail. If you can’t do it then I’ll find somebody else to do it."
"What? Who got locked up?"
"Yessenia. I can’t go post her bail and neither can Devon. I need you to go down to the bail bondsman and handle it, or if it’s a problem, I’ll find somebody else to do it."
"Why do you keep saying that? I don’t have a problem doing it. Get Quita, she’s in the bedroom sleep, and I’ll go get dressed."
"So what you gonna do?"
"I just said-"
"No, I’m talking about your mama them Zaria."
Zaria tried to walk away, but Quasym grabbed her. He snatched her toward him and made her look up at him. He didn’t give a fuck if it was Zaria’s family. He’d had enough of them, and until they could learn to respect him, he didn’t want anything to do with them and didn’t want Zaria having anything to do with them. They were brainwashing her and if she allowed it continue; it would only ruin them.
"You can’t make me choose between you and my family, Sym. I would never make you choose."
"Because there would never be a choice! You are the only option! What the fuck? I would never let nobody disrespect you the way them bitches been disrespecting me! You know what, let me get my muthafuckin’ daughter and get the fuck out of here. Fuck you Zaria!"
Quasym released the grip he had around Zaria’s arm and stormed off toward the spare bedroom that Quita was sleeping in. He scooped her up from the bed and left out of the room, and quickly left the house. He wouldn’t even force Zaria to make a choice. He would just make it for her.
Chapter 24: Get Out The Game
Samantha walked into the bedroom with a cup of orange juice and a handful of pills. She walked over to the bed and sat next to Hova. She sat the glass down on the dresser and then pulled one of his dreads from his face. They left the hospital shortly after the doctors informed them that Hova was going to pull through. Hova requested to be pulled out of there immediately. He knew that Marco would come back to finish him off the minute he found out that he was still alive, and he wasn’t taking any chances.
He had Samantha find them a place as far away from Dallas as possible and get a team of nurses set up to care for him until he was back to good condition.
The healing process hadn’t been as quick as he liked for it to be, but he was getting there one day at a time. Even then, he wasn’t going to take what Quasym had given to him lying down. If Quasym thought that Hova had come at him hard then he hadn’t seen anything yet. Hova was going to hit him where it would hurt the most-his pockets.
He’d already gotten one of Sym’s main trap houses shut down by the DEA. He was just waiting on his mans to get back to him on the location of the other ones that had just been set up. After he shut Quasym down, then he would kill everybody that means anything to Quasym before killing him.
All Hova wanted was his hundred thousand dollars back that he lost from Dan-D. That was it. When Quasym killed Dan-D, Hova’s money went missing, and that meant that Quasym was responsible. None of this would have ever happened if Quasym just paid for Hova’s loss. It would have been that simple, but instead Quasym wanted to go to war with someone who was made for the shit.
Hova grew up in the Dominican Republic, and this was nothing new to him. He would get down and dirty with the best of them. Quasym was barking up the wrong tree and needed to fall back before Hova tore his world apart.
"Take these three. I took out the one that will make you sleepy," Samantha told him as she handed him the pills. She grabbed the orange juice from the nightstand and placed it into his hand. Samantha watched as he downed the pills and relaxed his head on the headboard. "How are you feeling?"
"I feel better today. I need tuh make some moves."
"No Hova. Look you said you were gonna chill out. What kinda moves you need to make?"
"Deh kind I ain’t never talk tuh you about. Just grab my pants."
"Are you serious Hova? You were shot three damn times, and you barely survived! Marco is out there hunting you down like a damn dog, and you talking about you gotta make some moves! I brought Davina over here thinking you were gonna do right!" Samantha hissed.
She stood up from the bed and tucked her arms close to her chest. She watched as Hova struggled to turn his body to the side so that he could step out of the bed. She shook
her head as frustration built inside of her. She’d had enough of Hova’s life. It had been so long that he’s been doing this-in the game, and she was just tired.
"When is enough going to be enough Hova? How long do I gotta do this with you? I went to school so that I could give my sister a better life and so that you and I could live comfortably and not have to worry about shit. You got enough money to sit around and do whatever you wanna do, and if that ever runs out, best believe I got us. You don’t have to do this anymore."
"Sam, yuh know dis is my life and dis is what I do. I don’t know anyting else. It’s in my blood and if it kills me den it kills me. But I will never go out like dis. Never give up. Dis is what I do baby, yuh know dis."
Hova grabbed his pants from a chair that sat in the corner and slowly slid them on. He understood that Samantha was fed up with him being in the game, but he didn’t know how to do anything else. He didn’t know how to live a normal life. He didn’t even know what a normal life was. He had been in the streets since he was in the DR and nothing changed for him when he came to the states. He was a thug then and was still a thug now and Samantha knew this.
"This shit is only gonna go back and forth, Hova. It will never end until one of you is in a grave."
"Den so be it. I want an all-white casket wit a gold trim. We already talked about dis."
Hova finished getting dressed. He grabbed a half smoked blunt from the ashtray and lit it up before walking out of the house. He had work to do, and before it was all said and done, Quasym and Marco was gonna feel him. He was for sure of it.
Chapter 25: Now He's Just Being Honest
