Cidney started fussing as soon as I got done, which was perfect timing, but terribly wrong at the same time.
“Oh, no, baby girl. It is not time to get up yet.” I dashed to her nursery then quietly tiptoed to her crib.
Her nursery was peaceful, serene, and my favorite room in the house. I’d fallen asleep more than a few times in her rocking chair. It was painted light pink but decorated in several shades of purple, and had teddy bears, stars, and princess tiaras all over the walls. I even had my nail tech design each letter in Cidney’s name for the wall as well. I’d taken a theme I’d seen on the internet, put my own spin to the vision, and then ran through over a thousand dollars of Nardo’s money making sure I didn’t miss a detail. He didn’t let our beef get in the way of him doing for his seed, and I took full advantage of his heart. I even had an over-the-top baby shower and invited a bunch of bitches I didn’t have a bond with so I could floss. No matter what went on and was said behind my back, actions spoke louder than words, and I wanted the truth on the floor. Cidney was my link to Nardo for the rest of his life. My baby shower was our marriage in my mind.
I didn’t want Cidney to wake all the way up if she wasn’t ready to, since I was trying to get some one-on-one time with her father, so I flipped on the musical projector. I was hoping the lullabies could help sing her back into a slumber. I was well overdue for some coddling of my own. It had been just me and her roughing it out day in and out for the last week.
“Mommy needs you to go back to sleep for just a little while longer.” I sounded foolish trying to compromise with a baby, but I was desperate. She was sucking her tiny lips and trying to put her itty-bitty fingers into her mouth. I knew she wasn’t hungry because she hadn’t started crying yet, so I searched around the bedding for her pacifier and let it soothe her back to sleep. I knew better than to spoil her, which was why I also made sure Nardo bought me every knick-knack, gadget, bouncer, and nurturing item they had on the market for newborns. I wasn’t trying to have a brat that my mom wouldn’t babysit. She didn’t let one day of my pregnancy pass by that she didn’t remind me of her being too young to be somebody’s grandma.
Nardo, on the other hand, was good to me during the pregnancy. Not only did he make sure I kept a refrigerator of food, fruit, and junk that I had cravings for, but he also made sure to pick up all my carryout orders. I got super big carrying her because I was hungry all the time. The only reason Nardo knew I was not lying and didn’t give me a hard time when I called him for a food run was that he saw me eat it all. Hell, he’d be here, and we’d be cuddled up on the couch, and I’d order in delivery or beg him to cook.
On the day of my baby shower, he’d showed up and out for the whole hood and my family. At first, I was stomping around that day with my lips in a frown because he kept answering the phone saying he was on the way but not showing up. It was heavy on my mind that he was cuddled up with his ex-girlfriend, keeping her cool since she had threatened to run up on me at my baby shower. Though I wasn’t the least bit worried about Mel as far as throwing hands with her goes, I was worried that Nardo wanted some pussy that was not waddling around. Okay, maybe he wasn’t all the way good while I was pregnant.
Closing Cidney’s door quietly, I was about to call Nardo to find out where he was at when my windows started rattling. I peeked out just in time to see Nardo swerve up to the curb in his triple-black Range Rover on chrome wheels with his radio turned up to the max. Always bold and making a statement, he backed up into my driveway and kept the music blasting, disturbing my working-class neighbors.
Knowing the routine, I watched him pick up his phone and probably check in with the newest hoe. I was really trying hard not to let that bitch ruin my time with him. Since our breakup, she’d become a constant thorn, always hating when he came over or did financially for me and Cid. I couldn’t wait to go for that hoe. Yeah, he was giving her the wife life now, but me and him shared a seed, something more than she could claim title to. Little did she know I was out to reclaim my throne.
As I discreetly peeked out the window, watching the man I loved, I couldn’t help but to think back on what had originally brought us together. Melanie used to kick it with him back in the day when we were teenagers and he wasn’t nothing but a low-level drug dealer that worked for another worker who was allowed to have a worker. Renard started so low on the totem pole that the police never ran up on him when they raided all the other bag boys. He wasn’t even worthy of them trying to flip into a snitch. Nardo wasn’t getting money; only hand-me-downs from other hustlers and maybe a fresh pair of tennis shoes if they were feeling friendly. I knew how empty his pockets were because my ex-best friend used to kick it with him. Lucky for me, that all changed, and by the time he was getting real money, he was mine.
As he boldly stepped into the threshold of the house he’d cashed out on for me and Cid, I smiled sweetly, hoping to start our quality time on a good note. His Polo Blue cologne smelled so fucking good. I loved a man who kept his smell-good game great! Nardo had on a black pair of True Religion cargo shorts, a new out-of-the package wife beater, and some crispy retro Jordans. With his beard thick and trimmed neatly, perfection was a must with him, and I was sure he’d just hopped out of his barber’s chair.
“Hey, daddy, I missed you,” I whispered into his ear, throwing my arms around his waist. Hugging him tightly, I didn’t want to let go. “We both missed you.”
Nardo being Nardo, he barely responded to my desperate moves of affection. He was intent on being hardcore to the bitter end. He hugged me back with little emotion, making me feel slightly insignificant.
“Now you miss a nigga? Yo’ ass is crazy for real, Zaria. Where was all that wife-like emotion earlier when you was going ham on a nigga voice mail?” His deep baritone voice sent chills up and down my spine, even though he was calling me out on acting so elementary.
“Well, that was then. You know I be tripping when you don’t answer the phone. It could be an emergency with the baby, and you’re laid up with some ratchet ho.” Lowering my voice to a murmur at the end, I didn’t want him to think I was trying to trip or start an argument.
“Look, don’t start no shit with me, Z. I didn’t respond to your little drama earlier for a reason. You can miss me with all that because my mood ain’t no lighter for it now.”
“Naw, Nardo, I’m cool, and we’re cool. You can trust that I’m not trying to get on your bad side. You know how I can get over you, babe. It’s just love.” My mind started to race and ponder on what ways I could get back into his good graces, having reminded him of my nagging ways.
It was his fault I was cut like that anyway. Had it not been so easy for me to steal him from Mel, I would’ve had faith in our relationship standing strong through rough patches. However, Nardo continuously reminded me of his boss status in the streets. It was not a hood heffa walking who didn’t want a part of him. The more he crept, the more I clowned. Even though my moms thought I was as dumb as a bag of rocks for him, there was no way I was gonna diss my baby daddy.
Nardo quickly pushed past me to get into the living room. I had mango butter oil burning throughout the house, mainly because that was his favorite scent. I liked to keep him comfortable in hopes of making his visits last longer. Anything I could try to get my family back together was worth it in my book.
“Where’s my little mama?” he asked, glancing around the room, taking off his shoes and making himself comfortable. “I miss my little princess.”
“I put her down for a nap about a good forty-five minutes ago. She’s been kinda cranky today, so let’s just leave her be,” I schemed, sitting down across from him with my legs folded Indian style.
“No complaints here. You know a nigga hate all that whining and shit. But I guess she gets that crap from her mother, though,” he fired back, still continuing to be an asshole.
This fool ain’t been here but three minutes and already his smart comments have weighed in on me. I was not in the mood for his ant
ics or his criticism. He was the main reason I was always nagging and bitching anyway. Nardo had a bad tendency to creep out on me, and he thought I was dumb as a bag of rocks. So, fuck yeah, my attitude stayed on trip mode. Guess you lose ’em the same way you get ’em.
Now, Renard’s reputation in the street couldn’t be challenged, from his physique to his hood hustle. He was six feet even and muscular, with a peanut butter complexion damn near covered in tattoos. You would’ve thought he had an addiction to the shit. With dark brown, dreamy eyes and waves so laid they’d make you seasick, my child’s father carried himself like a true boss, making bitches and hoes alike want to be on his arm. I watched ’em come and go, but because I’d hatched the golden egg—our baby girl Cidney—Nardo was stuck with me for life. I didn’t care how he thought the game would be played.
“So, what’s been good on the block?” I asked, wanting him to entertain me with the antics of the hood. I’d truly been bored.
“You know how it is, and ain’t shit changed but the day,” he grunted. “The same cats who were struggling are still struggling, and the same muthafuckas who were up are still looking down. Me and Izzi are about to shake some thangs up, though.” He held back on the details.
“Whatchu mean by shake thangs up?” I was interested. “Y’all got a beef going?”
“You know me, making this bread, my baby. It’s come-up season on these streets.”
“I feel you on that. I’m looking for a come-up too.” I giggled sexily, hoping he was catching on. I needed Nardo’s money to get outfits for me and Cidney, and from past experience, I knew the best way to his pockets was through his pants zipper.
“Oh, is that so?” He leaned back onto my nutmeg-colored leather couch, adjusting the way his sac was positioned. “Ain’t shit good when your slick ass is on the prowl.”
Snickering, I hoped that was a sign of his mood improving for the better.
“I don’t know what that is supposed to mean, but me and Cid need some new clothes for this photo shoot I booked earlier,” I whined, giving him the sad face. Back in the day, playing the helpless little girl role got me more Guess jean jacket outfit sets than Hudson’s department store kept in stock.
“Damn, Z.” He got excited. “So, I’m your come-up, huh? You stay deep in a nigga pockets fa sho’. What happened to the stack of cash I left your hot ass the last time I was over here? I ain’t your muthafucking Bank of America.” he gritted his teeth, refusing to cut me any slack. “It ain’t a time I’ve been over here that you haven’t had your hand out.”
“It only seems like that because you don’t come over here but every thirty days.” I exaggerated to make a point, then flipped the conversation. “Are you serious, Nardo? Because if so, you’ve got a lot of nerve. How am I supposed to get out and do anything when you don’t even call to see Cidney, let alone come over here to watch her for me?”
I kept going. “Damn. You know I’ve got bills around this place.” I played it off, knowing I’d jump fresh getting the new Soho metallic gray leather Gucci bag. Still, with the water and sewerage company’s threatening shut-off notice only a few feet away, I was hoping he’d at least give me enough to make a payment arrangement. Otherwise, I’d be playing roommate at my mom’s. It was nothing for me to blow his money on me looking like a million bucks, knowing he’d come through with the cash to replace it—even if I did have to suffer through him talking bullshit.
“I’m not playing with you, shorty. Matter of fact, download some work search apps onto your phone so you can do something more productive on it than calling me relentlessly. I set you up sweet with this house. The least you could do is get a hustle to pay the bills.”
“Boy, stop it.” I twirled one of my curls around my finger and giggled. “They’ll foreclose on this house before I punch somebody’s clock. I don’t know shit about a shift.” I wasn’t raised by taxpaying parents.
“I bet you’d learn real fast once the bailiffs came to sit your bougie ass on the curb,” he said.
“I’m not about to be punching no nine-to-five or midnight clock while you run around tossing money on butt-naked broads. When I do badly, Cid does bad.” I felt the need to throw around my weight. He was tripping, and on that note, I couldn’t bite my tongue. There was no way in hell my share of his cash would be divvied up through the hood.
“Girl, you’re a mess fa sho’. What is your plotting ass gonna do when I give my princess a little brother or sister?” He grinned, knowing that slick-mouth shit would get under my skin.
I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to come at me like that. “You ain’t dumb enough to try it.” I sucked my teeth, having caught a huge attitude, and I was ready to pop off. I’d never thought about him having a second child, but for sure if he did, my position would be downgraded even more.
“Man, quit it with that jaw-jacking and toss me that remote. You’re a bad fucking experience that I ain’t trying to have with two broads at the same time.”
Grim-faced, I took his disrespect as another slap in the face. Renard was always slamming my ego into the gutter, but real talk, it was getting hard to rationalize with myself as to why I loved his ass so much. He could’ve gotten up and beaten the door down without a “please, don’t go” from me. I threw the remote to him with all my might. He caught it before it hit him square in the chest.
“I was not a bad experience when we were making our daughter. I was not a bad experience when you were over here rubbing my belly, my feet, and polishing my toenails because I was too big to bend down and too tired to go to Kimmie. I don’t care what you wanna say now to hurt my feelings. You definitely were not calling me a bad experience then.”
“I was making sure my baby girl got here safely, Zaria. You be reading more words on the page when I present you with shit, and that’s where the fuck-up be at.” He kept crushing me with his truth.
“So, you don’t love me? What we’re going through is more than a break for us, to get right, to get back tighter?” I was choking on my words, getting ready to have a full-blown crying fit and tantrum if he said anything similar to “our breakup is permanent.”
“Yeah, I love yo’ ass, girl. Don’t put no words in my mouth; just hear what I said. I ain’t come over here to make you cry or argue, so please quit getting all sensitive. I see you’re over there getting all fidgety.” He shook his head, flicking the tuner over to Netflix.
“Like I ain’t got a reason.” I tried to stare at the flat screen and avoid looking at him head-on. “You’re here, there, and everywhere but right here at home . . . like I ain’t shit.”
Angry and frustrated, my body shook from built-up tension. My plan hadn’t been for me and my baby daddy to bump heads, but we were two combative personalities, and his insults were unnecessary.
“Aw, don’t get to acting all sour and shit ’cause your sensitive ass can’t take a joke.”
“Well, I don’t play like that.” I folded my arms, continuing my tantrum.
“Yeah, whatever. I ain’t trying to hear that old spoiled-girl routine. Get over here and give your manz some attention for these few dollars,” he demanded, unfastening his huge brown Hermes belt buckle.
Even though I was infuriated, bottom line, I wanted that green paper and loved pleasing his black ass till he came. So, no doubt I gave in to his request and dropped down onto my knees.
“Yeah, girl, you know just how to work a nigga right. That good-good deep throat,” he hummed as I slung his rod out of his Hanes boxers and tickled the tip of the swollen head.
The sooner I hit him off with a little of my head game, the sooner he’d fill my pockets up and I could be out the door and in the streets. Although I had been feenin’ for his attention earlier, him saying he was not moving all the way back in had me only thinking of myself. My gynecologist did recommend I get a breather from Cidney to not experience postpartum depression or caretaker burnout. Besides all that, Nardo had become king of pulling double and triple overnight shifts away fr
om dirty diapers, middle-of-the-night feedings, and Cid crying for no known reasons. He needed to get some daddy hours in and give me a break. Right after I sucked him to sleep, he’d be punching in for babysitting duty.
CHAPTER TWO
Nardo
“Yo, Zaria! grab li’l momma before she break a nigga’s nap,” I complained, then rolled over and smothered my face with a throw pillow. I hadn’t planned on falling asleep on Zaria’s couch, but I had, and I was trying to stay that way for a little while longer. The last thing I wanted to hear was a baby’s relentless crying. “Hey, girl! I know you hear her crying. Quit being funny and get her before I get up and leave,” I threatened. I knew Zaria wanted me around, just like I knew she liked to play games with a nigga.
I was irritated and wished I had stayed at the trap making money, or even at the crib with my new chick, Spice. It was now obvious Zaria had busted camp and left me alone with Cidney. I didn’t hear any movement or sounds in the house, except the baby’s cries, of course.
Damn, I’ve gotta learn how to keep my pants up and zipped around her nut-chasing ass. I felt played. I already knew Zaria had snuck out of there as soon as she swallowed my cum.
Loyal to His Lies Page 2
