by Styles, T.
“I’m gonna ask you to take that back. But if you don’t, I’m not fucking with you no more.” He rubbed her shoulders unknowingly a little too hard, and she was in pain. She was too afraid to tell him to ease up, fearing he might not care. “Now I know you’re mad, and that’s why you just said some shit you didn’t mean. I get that. From reading your journal, I can tell you never had a man like me in your life, who really cares about you. You’re scared but you don’t have to be. But I’m a man, Farah. Straight up, with no chaser, and you not gonna talk to me like that.” He paused. “So what you gonna do?”
She knew she had to apologize. Not only was she dead wrong, but everything he just said was right. She had taken things to another level by disrespecting his manhood, and she was out of order. But the other part of Farah, the side that was too afraid to show emotion, didn’t like having her card pulled by a man who invaded her thoughts. Who was he to bring up her journal, and use it against her, to display her innermost fears?
“Are you gonna take back what you said to me, Farah? Or do you want me to walk out of your life forever?”
Farah looked in the mirror at him and said, “Maybe you should go find your little boyfriend in Mississippi. Since it’s obvious you like dudes anyway.”
Slade removed his hands, threw on his clothes, and walked toward her again. As she looked into the mirror, he crashed his fist into their reflection, shattering it into a million pieces, before leaving the room. The moment she heard the apartment door slam, she flopped on the bed, looked at the broken mirror, and sobbed uncontrollably. When she heard someone moving around in the living room, she wiped the tears off of her face, pulled her robe tighter, and walked toward the sound.
Vivian James was standing in her apartment with a distraught look over her face. Farah rolled her eyes and walked up to her. She wiped her face and said, “What are you doing in my house? I paid you the rent for this month already.”
“Yes, you did, but I’m here to discuss another clause of the lease.”
“You better stop harassing me,” she said. “Because I don’t like being threatened, nor am I in the mood.”
“I’ve heard, Farah Cotton. But trust me, I’m a long way from threatening you.” She threw her a serious stare. “The lease says that a tenant is not to permit, or suffer, any act or omission constituting a nuisance to other residences.” She recited the lease as if it were the United States Constitution. “Including, without limitation to, excessive noise, excessive traffic into and out of the premises, like the man who just stormed out of here and broke the door in the process.” She pointed at the knob which was hanging on loosely. “It also states that violence, or threats of violence, are not permitted.” She stepped closer.
Farah rolled her neck and said, “What does that have to do with me?”
“Oh, I think you know, Farah Cotton. This letter was slid underneath my door last night.” She raised a folded pink piece of stationary with green flowers, which Farah knew belonged to Lesa. “And although it was anonymous, I believe everything it says.”
Farah walked away, took a seat on the recliner, and Vivian followed. “Vivian, I don’t know what you think I’m involved in, but you have the wrong person.”
“I think otherwise.” She fanned the letter. “This letter says that the sixteen people who died in this building over the course of a month may all be attributed to you.” Tears streamed down her face. “That count includes my son.” She wiped her face with the palm of her hand.
Farah rose and said, “I didn’t kill that man in the hallway!” Chloe told her the whole story, about how Slade punished him with his bare hands, resulting in his death.
“So what about the other fifteen? You had a hand in that?”
She was caught. “Look, Vivian, you can believe what you want. If you think I had anything to do with that shit, call the police. Otherwise, you can get the fuck out of here, and leave me alone!”
Chapter 58
“Do what you gotta do.”
—Slade
Markee’s house was peaceful as Slade sat on the couch with Shannon, the first woman who properly welcomed him to DC. It was Slade’s turn to wait for Knox’s call, and since he was beefing with Farah, he didn’t mind it one bit. Their fight fucked his head up, and he had all intentions of staying true to his word, and cutting her off for good. It wasn’t like they fucked, so why was he tripping anyway? After she popped off at the mouth, he knew she couldn’t be the woman in his life. He’d be liable to kill her.
“What’s on your mind?” Shannon said as she leaned on him, while they sat on the sofa and watched TV. Since his “no touch” vow was broken, courtesy of Farah, he rubbed her arm. It wasn’t as loving as when he touched Farah; instead, it was as if he were trying to start a fire with two pieces of wood. “It don’t seem like I have your undivided attention. And after all the things I did to you earlier”—she grinned, groping his dick through his jeans—“I think I at least deserve a smile.”
He stopped rubbing her and said, “How come you always bring up what you do for me?” He looked down at her cute face. “I hate that shit. If we gonna do what we do, that’s got to stop. Just keep it light, okay?”
When she heard the phrase Farah used at Mamma’s Kitchen, she was enraged. For him to quote the phrase so easily meant they spent a lot of time together. “Is it because of Farah?” She looked into his eyes. “Because from what I hear, she’s two kinds of crazy.”
“I didn’t know you knew her.”
“I do. We not friends or nothing like that, though. Somebody who knows both of us reached out to me through my friend Coconut. They used to be cool too, but Coco don’t fuck with her no more either. Everybody cutting that bitch off.” She giggled to herself. “Anyway, they said Farah thinks she’s a vampire, or some shit like that.” She put her head on his chest, and she could feel that he was as stiff as a board. She sat back up and said, “If I were you, I’d stay away from her, but that’s just me.”
Slade shook his head. He couldn’t stand catty-ass females. “What the fuck you talking about? How the fuck does she think she’s a vampire?”
“They say she have something called porphyria.” Shannon leaned in, relishing in the opportunity to bash red-bone Farah. “I looked it up when I was in my house, to see what I could find on the Internet. She can’t stand chemicals, perfumes and things like that, so if she’s around it she’ll run. It said she can break out into hives, get sick, and all other kind of shit like that. She was real sick in school too, when we were younger, but I didn’t know what it was about. Apparently it’s a blood-deficiency illness, and she’s playing it up as something else, probably to get attention from you.”
“How could she? She never told me nothing like that.”
“I don’t know why she thinks she’s a vampire then. Anyway, everything I found on the Internet said people don’t crave blood, they crave violence. So it ain’t like she needs blood for real, she just thinks she does.” She looked up at him. “I know you like her, Slade, but you should really be careful. I’m just saying.” She rubbed his chest.
He knocked her hand away. “Who told you some dumbass shit like that?”
She backed away a little. “I can’t tell you.”
“Well, when you can give me facts, we can talk. Until then, worry about what we got going on right here before it’s over.” He looked back at the TV.
“I didn’t mean to make you mad, I’m just worried about you, Slade. That’s all.”
He knew how much she liked him, but they could never be anything more than “good time” friends. His reason had more to do with their first connection than it did with anything else. A girl that loose in the pussy he couldn’t take seriously, plus he wasn’t gonna be in DC long anyway. What she said about Farah being a vampire had him vexed, because he couldn’t imagine anything like that being halfway true. He was still crawling around in his head when Shannon said, “Still mad?”
“Naw.”
“Can I
do something to put a smile on your face?” She dropped to her knees, and crawled between his legs. “It won’t take me no time to make shit right.”
He grinned. “Do what you gotta do.”
Chapter 59
“Let s go, Rhonda! Now!”
—Farah
Farah was on her second green apple martini. The red dress she wore hugged her curves, and she was pulled seven different times by various men. Rhonda was just as sexy in the tight-fitting jeans she chose to wear, and stylish leather jacket to cover her large belly. From the back that ass was fat, so she was also pulling them left and right. “You hear about Gary from around the way?” Rhonda asked. Farah remained silent. “Anyway, they said they found him in an alley, with the vein on his dick slit. He’s been there for weeks, and they just found him today. That’s some crazy-ass shit, right?”
She knew who he was, and most importantly what happened, so she wasn’t going to say anything either which way. “Don’t know him and don’t care.”
“Anyway, I didn’t know this spot was gonna be this live,” Rhonda said. “I would’ve worn some other shit. I ain’t been in a club in eight months!”
“Girl, please,” she said, looking at her outfit, “you killing them and you pregnant.”
Rhonda didn’t want to go out, but her shower was tomorrow, so tonight she was at Farah’s beck and call. “You right, these bitches in here a mess, and half of them showing all they ass. It’s too cold outside for all of that.”
“Right, it ain’t a bitch in here who can fuck with us. Farah placed her empty glass on the bar and scanned the club. She was worried Randy wasn’t where she thought he should be. “I know I gotta find another sponsor, since I’m beefing with Slade, and Randy wants to kill me.”
“Slade wasn’t sponsoring shit anyway,” Rhonda clarified. “I hear he running around with Shannon. I don’t know what he looks like, but people keep saying he’s fine as shit!”
Her heart dropped. “Shannon? For real?”
“Yep. So don’t worry about him. If anything he need to be sucking the juice out of your dirty panties.” She looked around and spotted a cute chocolate brother, who was staring in her direction. “Now Randy is another question. You should not have even been dealing with him. You know that dude is sick in the head.”
“He sick but rich.” Farah motioned for the waiter to get her another of the same. “And losing him fucked up my game play. I swear I feel like going off on Lesa and them for jumping in my business. Every time I try to put her out, she bitch up, and threaten to call the police. I got something planned for her, though.”
Rhonda danced a little in place. “I can’t believe you even came out tonight. I figured I’d have to celebrate me getting a new house in Maryland with somebody else.”
Farah looked at her and rolled her eyes. “You talking about Coconut and the rest of them dry-ass bitches ain’t you?” She laughed. “You did the right thing by calling me. We both know right now the only people Coconut cares about is Shannon and herself. Plus since Randy out of town, I had to help you celebrate the move. I don’t blame you for leaving! Get out of DC while you still can.” She accepted her drink from the bartender.
“Let’s put on a show,” Rhonda said, grabbing Farah’s hand.
Farah and Rhonda did the “Calling All Dicks” dance, by rotating their hips and rubbing on each other like a couple of Rick James freaks. They were acting loose and ready to fuck, as they ground against one another like it was going out of style. It was foolery at its finest, and in no way appealing. When Farah tried to wiggle her ass in front of Rhonda, she told her to stop for many reasons. First, her belly was in the way, and secondly, Farah couldn’t move her body to save her life. Her fuck game was off, and it was being exposed on the dance floor.
“You stand over there against the bar, and I’ll dance. Rhonda laughed.
It was fine with Farah, because she loved being a spectator anyway. Leaning on the bar, sipping her drink , she watched Rhonda work the floor as if she were a stripper on a pole. How could she be so sexy, and pregnant at the same time? When a few men waved, trying to get Farah’s attention, she blushed and enjoyed the moment. The liquor had Farah feeling seductive and beautiful. They were having a good time, until four guys strolled into the club looking like new money. They were wearing expensive jeans, and designer shirts, and they resembled movie stars. When she saw who was leading the quartet, she wanted to rush up to him and beg him back. Wearing a brown button-down shirt, blue jeans, and a pair of Louis Vuitton shoes, she knew her man when she saw him. Now she felt foolish for speaking to him in a foul way. It was time to apologize, until she saw who was on his arm.
“Rhonda, come over here,” she said, pulling her off the floor.
“Stop, I’m feeling good.” She snatched her hand away.
“You gonna fuck around and have that baby early. Now get over here, and look over there.” She pointed at him. “That’s Slade.”
“You lying! That nigga so fucking sexy!”
Farah couldn’t move her mouth to respond. Sure she disrespected him, but as far as she was concerned, he should be home waiting for her call. She took for granted that he was trying to find his brother, and never imagined him being in the club with someone else. Slade didn’t see her as he bent down and whispered into Shannon’s ear. But Shannon spotted Farah. She grinned and planted a kiss directly on his lips.
“Shannon going hard now,” Rhonda said, shaking her head. “See girl, you should go on ’head and leave him alone. Any nigga that fine gonna be trouble anyway.” Farah felt tears forming, but she refused to let him see her cry. If they wanted to be together, they could go stuff shit in each other’s asses for all she gave a fuck.
Farah was just about to suggest they leave the club when Juice walked up to her, and blocked her view of Slade. “Farrah Fawcett,” he said, smiling. He was so sexy that for a second she forgot all about the man she loved. “You got away from me last time, but I’m not gonna let that happen again.” Farah looked to her left and saw Rhonda was already keeping time with his friend, DeWayne. “What you sipping on?”
Afraid Randy sent him she said, “Are you here because of Randy?”
Juice frowned. “After what that nigga did back at the shop,” he said, “I don’t say more to that nigga than I have to. So stop asking if I’m coming for him when I pull up on you. I represent myself.” He smiled. “Now ... what you drinking?”
She grinned, loving his style. If she was going to use somebody to make Slade jealous, Juice was the perfect candidate. “An apple martini.”
He ordered her another, along with a double shot of Patrón for himself. “So what’s up? You gonna make me go through hell to get your number this time? I’m sick of seeing you only when you’re around that dude.”
“You gonna use it?” Farah looked around him to see if Slade was watching ... he wasn’t. Instead he pulled Shannon into his body and kicked it with his brothers, who also had dates, and she was devastated. She wondered if he was trying to make her jealous. Who brings bitches to the club? They ain’t nothing but some country-ass niggas.
“Listen, I been trying to get at you for a minute.” Juice interrupted her thoughts. “If I get your number, I’m damn sure gonna use it.” He handed her his phone. “So put it in there.”
When she finished programming her digits, she saw Slade and his crew walking to the bar. Focusing on Juice she started laughing in his face for no reason, as if he were Kevin Hart. She was trying her best to appear enthralled by Juice’s presence, so that she wouldn’t have to suffer the agony of Slade being with another woman. Once at the bar, Slade put his hand on the small of Shannon’s back and said, “What you want?”
“An apple martini,” she said, looking at Farah’s drink.
Slade followed her eye contact and saw Farah for the first time, “What’s up, Farah?” Then he nodded at Juice as if they were homies. And like he didn’t care, he focused back on Shannon, and didn’t speak to her anymore.
“You coming to my shower, right?” Rhonda asked Shannon.
She looked at Farah and grinned slyly. “I’m still invited?”
Rhonda looked at Farah and said, “Girl, she don’t care nothing about what you do.” Rhonda looked at Slade and back at her. She was being greedy as shit for baby gifts. She knew Farah didn’t want that bitch anywhere near her house. “Farah got her own business over there.”
Farah knew if she opened her mouth, her words would be broken so she nodded. “Well ... I guess I’ll see you there.” When their drinks came, they walked away and Slade never looked back.
Farah knew Juice wanted to fuck, because he suggested they leave early, when all she wanted to do was cry. As he maneuvered down the streets of DC, the vision of Slade acting like she wasn’t in the building trapped her mind. She mentally bashed herself with the realization that had she taken back her comment, he would be in her room, and in her bed.
Rhonda was laughing it up in the back seat with Juice’s friend, who happened to have a fetish for pregnant pussy. “Y’all wanna grab something to eat?” Juice asked, placing his hand on her knee. His eyes alternated from her to the road. “Farrah Fawcett ... you heard me?”
She looked at him and with an attitude said, “Please stop calling me that shit! I already told you that’s not my name!”
Juice’s friend and Rhonda wondered what caused her to be so snappy all of a sudden. Fifteen minutes ago you would’ve thought Juice was on stage at the Apollo, the way she was laughing it up in his face. “My bad. I won’t call you that shit again. So ... you hungry?” Juice asked, removing his hand to focus on the road.
“Yeah. I guess.” She shrugged.
