by Noire
I got dressed real quick then went in my bathroom to comb my hair. When I came out Nasir was still sleeping. I kissed him again, then walked out the room, leaving the door open. The shower was still running in Aunt Mercy Ann’s room, so I eased out the front door and took the elevator downstairs.
I met Akbar down on the Lower East Side and was drinking with him and one of his boys who was a bouncer at a club down there. Two chicks walked in and sat at the bar and started talking to each other and Akbar’s nose popped wide open.
“Damn,” he said to his boy who was standing up there with his arms crossed and eyeing these two made-up heffahs too. “Them jawns is staring like fuck!” He turned to me. “What you think, Sauce? That one in the black shirt. She look like my type?”
I looked down the bar. Me and Akbar had been friends for a while, and although we used to fuck around for a minute, he was really just a homeboy who was there for me, no pussy required. I checked out the chick in red and something about the way she laughed and held her head cocked sideways looked real familiar to me.
It took me a second or two, but when I got it, I really got it!
“Tareek!” I yelled, jumping outta my chair and running toward him with my arms out. “Boy what you doin’ your ass up in here wearing a fuckin’ dress!”
We hugged all over each other, laughing and jumping up and down.
“Tareeka, baby,” he corrected me, twirling his dress around and stepping slow so I could check out his shit. “It’s Tareeka now, Saucy. I told you I was gonna be a bad bitch with big titties one day!”
I laughed so damn hard it wasn’t funny. Tareek had some bodacious titties that was phatter and firmer than mine, and when he twitched his ass round in that dress I almost couldn’t believe he had a booty, hips, all that!
“This my friend Stubbs,” he said, introducing me. “Saucy was my best damn friend in the world when I was a kid,” he explained. He grinned, then grabbed my shoulders and gave me a big fat kiss on my cheek. “Shit, girl. You was my only damn friend.”
Tareek was still living in his old apartment but he told me his father had died in a car accident and his brother was living somewhere in the south.
“I don’t hear from him girl, but you know Taleb always did have a stick up his ass! I guess I embarrassed him when I showed up at Daddy’s funeral wearing a cute black skirt, but fuck him! This is me!”
I couldn’t stop staring at him and I was damn sure gonna joke the hell outta Akbar and tell him Tareek was definitely his type.
“But,” I said, shaking my head, “how you get all them titties, boyfriend? The hips is looking good too, Mami.”
He laughed. “It’s the hormones, you know. Me and Stubbs is getting ready for our operations. There’s a whole lotta shit you gotta go through, but the hormones is part of how they start getting you ready for it.”
I grabbed Tareek’s hand and took him over to Akbar and his boy and introduced them. I could tell Akbar knew something was up just by the way he was staring at Tareek but I was gonna let him figure it out for himself.
I had just sat my ass back down when Free blew up my cell phone.
“Saucy where are you?”
“I’m right off the FDR Drive. Why?”
“Because I’m at the fuckin’ police station.”
“What? Why? What’d you do, Free?”
“I trusted your dumb ass! That’s what the fuck I did!”
I shook my head trying to understand because he wasn’t making no damn sense. I turned my back on Tareek and them, and pressed the phone closer to my ear.
“Just tell me what to do, Free. I didn’t do shit to you, but if you locked up, just tell me what you want me to do.”
“You left my son in the house by himself,” he accused me in a deadly voice. “You was so bent on running the streets that you said fuck your own baby, and left him in there alone with nobody to take care of him!”
“Aunt Mercy Ann was there!” I screamed. “She brought him into our room so she could take a shower, and when I left the crib she was still in there! She was the last one with Nasir, Free. Don’t you let her blame that shit on me!”
“She wasn’t there, Saucy. She was with me. I came home to take her to pick up a prescription and get something to eat while you was sleep. So was Nas. Before we left I rolled his bassinet in our room so you would hear him if he cried. I can’t believe you got your ass up and walked past our son and out that damn door.”
My mind was blown. I concentrated on trying to figure this shit out.
“She was in there, Free. I swear to God, I heard her in the shower. She was there.”
“No, she wasn’t. Did you knock on the door and let her know you was leaving? No. Because she wasn’t in there. Nas was by himself when he woke up and started crying. When he didn’t shut up for over an hour, that old cranky dude next door came over and banged on the door. When nobody answered he called downstairs to the security office. They called the cops, Saucy, and when they showed up, security unlocked the door and let ’em in.”
“Oh my God…I coulda sworn she was…” I didn’t know-what else to say.
“I got there right when social services was taking my son out the house, Saucy. The cops brought me and Aunt Mercy Ann down to the station so we could give statements, and the only reason I’m about to get Nas back is because the doorman vouched that me and Aunt Mercy Ann left the building two hours before you did.”
I was struck dumb. I couldn’t believe this shit! I knew I’d heard that damn water running in Aunt Mercy Ann’s shower.
“Well how is Nas? Where they got him at?”
Free’s voice slapped me through the phone.
“Oh, so you finally thought to ask about your son, huh?”
“I’m sorry, Free. For real, I am.”
“Oh, I know you sorry, Saucy. It’s sad, but I been knowing that for a good little minute now.”
It was about a month later when I found myself walking into the Brown Box Theater on Free’s arm. It was his twenty-seventh birthday and Tai and Jaheim had set up a huge-ass party bash for him. The place was swarmed and it looked like everybody in the industry had turned out to celebrate his day. Actually, it was gonna be a double celebration and Free had a lot to party about because his latest project was being unofficially released tonight too. Free had named the collaboration album Keep It Gangsta, and it had some of his wildest tracks on it from his heavy-hitting days on the mic, plus it pumped some hard cuts from Thug-A-Licious, Rhyme Mastah, and Gutta Brown. The video that Free had gone to Jamaica to shoot was ready too, and it was gonna be running all on MTV and BET in a couple of days.
I was kinda surprised when Free invited me to come out with him ’cause shit had been real shaky between us ever since the night he claimed I left Nasir home alone. We’d had a big fight when I got home, throwing down in the crib ghetto-style. Free had slung me down to the floor, and when I got up I tried to burn his ass with a hot iron, but he slapped it outta my hands. I still got him though. When he tussled with me and tried to hold me down, I bit his damn thumb all the way down to the bone!
Yeah. It was ice-cold up in that camp for a good minute. I straight didn’t speak to Aunt Mercy Ann at all, and whenever I tried to do something for or with Nasir, she jumped in and took over. And whenever me and Free was both in the apartment at the same time we acted like strangers. Nah, I acted like Free was a stranger. Free acted like I was stinking up his crib or something. The nigga didn’t even wanna speak when he saw me! He would just slide right past me like I wasn’t even there, and then if I turned around real fast I would bust him looking at me with love and hate at the same time. I didn’t know what the fuck his problem was. I begged him to talk to me, to give me another chance. I really missed that closeness we used to have and I knew he still cared just as much as I did, but everything I said went in one of his ears and bounced right back out.
But tonight was going different. Free was being the old nigga he used to be. Talking and laughing
and giving me mad attention like the cat who had opened my nose up wide almost two years ago. Free was looking real good too. He had on all white from head to toe. An ice-white suit, white shirt and tie, white shoes, slamming white hat. All his boys were dressed in white suits too, except they was shining in chains and rings, and Free was still holding it down with that air bling.
He had let me pick out my own outfit for the night and I could tell he wasn’t disappointed by my choice of a gold Fendi dress that had cost three grand. We hadn’t fucked in a long time and I knew he missed it. He had sat on the bed watching me as I got dressed, and I gave his ass a real hot show as I slid into a gold thong and matching push-up bra. He had a funny smile on his face the whole time, and I loved that shit.
When we got in the limo things were even better. Free popped open a magnum of Cristal, and poured me some and watched me drink it.
“This is for you, Saucy,” he said, putting his arm around me. “It’s really your night tonight, baby. I want you to be comfortable and have a good time, okay? I want you to feel your best and shine your brightest.”
Free had some chilled shrimp in the whip with sliced lemons and cocktail sauce to go with them too, and he didn’t even look at me funny when I stuck a lemon in my mouth and chewed on the rind. He actually fed me the shrimp by hand, and I giggled as I licked his fingers and tried to suck on his thumb.
“Not now,” Free laughed as I reached for his big dick and squeezed that shit. He moved my hand away and slid my fingers through his.
“You ain’t even hard,” I complained, and Free laughed again.
“Don’t worry about this dick tonight, baby. You gonna have time to get plenty dick later on.”
Artists from a lot of different labels were scheduled to perform tonight, and as soon as we got out the whip I recognized a lot of rappers and ballers that I used to party with when I was just starting out in videos. Me and Free walked inside holding hands and waving to the crowd, smiling like the beautiful motherfuckers we was!
Inside the auditorium I was pissed to see that that bitch Dymond had showed up. I spotted her and her entourage on the other side of the hall. Marshall was with her too, and she shoulda been leading her little lapdog around on a leash. I so wanted to tell that nigga Marshall that outta the two of them, his wife was a better fuck and gave much better head, but I was wrapped in Free’s strong arms tonight so both of them could just kiss my ass.
But my eyes got real big when I saw Quaison was there too, sitting a few rows up from Dymond and Marshall. He must’ve slid in with somebody’s posse ’cause I knew damn well Tai hadn’t invited him. Free led me down to our seats in front and I held tight to his hand and acted like I didn’t see his number one public enemy glaring at us from the other side of the room.
Tai’s agency had billed this event as the hottest urban birthday show on the planet, and the press was out to see if it was gonna be true. I saw MTV and BET cameras, one from The Black Press, and two or three from cable channels, but there were also a lot of independent cats taking shots for The Source, XXL, Don Diva and other black urban magazines.
Of course there were crazy mics stuck in Free’s face. It was his big night and everybody wanted to hear from him. I stood next to him determined to make him damn proud. I knew I looked all class and polish, just the way Free wanted me to look. I had on a floor-length, back-out, shimmering light gold gown, with a simple diamond pendant around my neck. My bag was a small, classy clutch, and my shoes were made of the same shimmering material.
Whenever somebody important spoke to me, I answered just the way Free’s little stiff-ass etiquette coach had taught me. I smiled and maintained eye contact and made sure I kept my words in the right tense and with all the ing’s intact. I felt real stupid talking like a damn white girl, but I did it because it seemed like me and Free might be starting to vibe again and I wanted to show him that I could make the right impressions and bring positive points to his image.
After talking to a million people and being interviewed by a bunch of press, we finally made it down to our seats just as the show was about to begin. Dougie Fresh was MC’ing on the mic, and the first thing everybody did was stand up and sing “Happy Birthday” to Free.
It was live. I stood next to Free with the overhead lights coning us and sang to him with a big-ass smile on my face. Everybody in the whole damn joint had their eyes on us, and my man stood there grinning at me like he loved the ground I walked on.
I loved seeing that look in Free’s eyes. It made me hot, and I decided no matter what he said, I was gonna suck his dick down to the bone when we got back in that limo!
The entertainment lineup was fierce, and Tai and them had picked some of the best artists in the industry to perform for Free’s special night. There was also a line of new niggas standing around near the side of the stage, and in between each music act a few of them would go on the stage one by one and say a few words about Free and how he had inspired their music or opened doors for them in the business and whatnot. Then they each got five minutes under the new-jack spotlight to spit a freestyle aimed at showing Free luv. Some of them cats were lyrical masters and plenty of love was in their rhymes.
Free was digging that shit, I could tell. The smile never left his face. Even when they called him up on the stage to say a few words, which everybody knew wasn’t his favorite thing to do, he was still grinning. I squeezed his hand as he stood up. I knew he hated having the lights all over him, and he definitely wasn’t one to get on the mic unless he was giving up a killer rap.
“Whassup, people,” Free said, and the audience exploded with screams and applause, giving him props like he was da man.
“Y’all know I’m a man of few words and I ain’t one to go around runnin’ off at the mouth, so I’ll just say, thanks for showing love for my new jawn, Keep It Gangsta, and when the show is over make sure you stick around for the after-party. Peace!”
I was grinning my ass off as Free walked across that stage looking good as hell. No jewelry, air bling, but his gear was top shelf, his kicks banging, that gorgeous grin, them dimples and that goatee…goddamn. But the best part was the fact that every hatin-ass female in the joint could see that big powerful nigga was heading straight back to me.
“Yo hold up!” Dougie Fresh hollered just as Free was about to hit the steps. “We got one more artist who wanna give up some luv for Free!” He turned to his left and my blood ran cold. “Sorry, son! You shoulda stepped ya ass up with everybody else! But here’s ya new-jack minute. Gone and show Free ya luv!”
“What it do!” Quaison hollered into the mic like he was enjoying the crowd. “Whewwww! This feels good, man! Very good! Yeah, I got mad love for my son’s stepdaddy! What’s good my niggaz? I know I wasn’t invited but lemme smack ya’ll niggaz wit’ some fiyah right fast! Let’s get into this…I see you, Sauce! Let’s do it, baby! Yo Freedom, you ain’t hustle! You knew somebody who knew somebody, but nah nigga that ’ont make you somebody! Nope! Gimme the track lemme lay my heat, I’m up next! Lemme take my seat! It’s Qua Dawg! You ain’t hustle! You knew somebody who knew somebody but nah, nigga that ’ont make you somebody! Nope! Gimme the track lemme lay my heat, I’m up next! Lemme take my seat! I’m at the top of the list, young nigga fresh outta the trench, I smell like pussy? That mean I’m fresh outta ya bitch! I’m on another level fuck it, niggas can hate! Scared to come outta retirement? That’s a g-nigga’s requirement! Cuz I’m New York’s top pick! And my nine spit! Chew your food and treat ya girl like a side dish! So when I hit—I smack it outta the damn park! Money can buy a nigga anything but a damn heart! You lying to the people, you was puss from the damn start! Coward scared to battle so I call you a damn mark! You see how I slay tracks and see how it ain’t rap, you slide through my strip, and get ya g-ride banged at!—”
Dougie Fresh had heard e-damn-nuff. He snatched the mic from Quaison and started doing his human-beat-box thang to the same beat that Quai had been freestyling to. The crowd got so hyped of
f that shit till everybody was clapping and stomping their feet to Dougie’s shit, and ignoring Quai as he stood on the side of the stage looking stupid as fuck.
Still throwing that lip fire, Dougie ran across the stage and gave Free a big hug and beat-mouthed “happy birthday to you” as Free finally walked down the stairs and back to his seat.
“Now let’s hear that shit one more time for my man, FREEDOM MOORE!”
Free sat down next to me and the cameras onstage panned over us and he grabbed my hand then held it up in the air and grinned.
“What’s wrong with ya nigga, Saucy?” he leaned over and asked me as soon as the camera had panned back.
“My nigga?”
“Yeah. That sleazebag motherfucker up there talking shit like he wanna get murdered. Dude is cranky. When’s the last time you had his dick in your mouth?”
“What?!?!” I had just started clapping for the next act, but I stopped and turned to face him with my eyes popped out. “What the hell you talking about, Free? I didn’t know he was gonna get up there and act stupid! I ain’t even been with that nigga!”
“Yeah, so I’m his son’s stepdaddy, huh?”
“Free how I’m supposed to know what that motherfucker talking about? Shit, don’t let that nigga get all in your head and mind-fuck you! Nas look just like you and you know he’s yours!”
Free laughed. “Calm down, Saucy. I’m just playing. It’s all cool. ’Cause guess what?” He put his hand into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I reached for it, but he snatched it back. “Know what this is?”
All of a sudden instead of sweet words there was ice chips coming outta Free’s mouth. But he was still grinning for them damn cameras.
“I was planning on giving it to you after the show, but this,” he said, looking straight ahead, “is my guarantee that tonight is gonna be the last fuckin’ night you ever sit your trifling ass down next to me anywhere and enjoy a minute’s worth of anything that I’ve put in work for. It’s my petition for full custody of Nasir, baby. My lawyers filed it yesterday. So you about to get served with your subpoena, and I’m about to get my tyke, yo. And I ain’t got nobody to thank for that but you.”
