I Gave Him My Heart

by Krystal Armstead

  Nina shook her head. “Remember, it was you who left him and not the other way around?”

  I looked up at her, taking the plate of chicken out of the refrigerator.

  Niq’ was everything to everyone in those days, I’m serious. He was playing basketball and got accepted to all five schools that he applied to. I mean, there were so many colleges outside of those that were begging him to attend their school. He was a poor nigga from the hood whose athletic skills were like no other those schools had ever seen. At the time, Nina was really going through it. One of the schools that wanted Niq’ was Duke University. I was so hyped because, since I was already contemplating going to live with my boo, Duke was the perfect choice. My man and I could get a place near the university and still go see Nina whenever we chose. But Niq’ didn’t see my vision. At his last game, scouts from all over the country came to see Niq’ play. And guess who else showed up to see Niq’ play? Peanut’s ass. She showed up to the game with his twins. So you already know which school Niq’ decided to roll with. He ended up deciding to go to UCLA. He said he wanted to be closer to his kids. I didn’t even give the nigga the chance to mention that long-distance relationship bullshit. I broke up with his ass from the moment he said he wasn’t leaving California. I knew he had a commitment to his kids, but I missed my cousin.

  “He’s probably dating Peanut again.” I smacked my lips, unwrapping the foil from the plate of chicken. “Have you seen Peanut’s cousin’s website for her new clothing line called Religious? She’s got pictures of that nigga all over that muthafucka.” I shook my head.

  Nina scoffed, watching me toss the plate of chicken into the microwave. “Well, duh, shit, he’s a got-damn basketball player, Kourtney! Having him as a model will most definitely get their product line noticed. Kourtney, you’re trippin’.”

  I looked at her as I put the microwave timer on three minutes. I never told the girl that I left the boy because he was putting his needs before mine. He knew I missed Nina. There were plenty of nights that I called him up, crying because I missed her. There were plenty of nights that I held London in my arms, crying, just looking at her because she reminded me of the fun I had that summer with Nina and Ricque’s crew. I knew Niq’ wanted to be around his kids, but he was pissing me off because he was letting Peanut use his kids as leverage. Whenever she called him, asking him to do anything, he always would. Why? Because if he didn’t, the bitch would tell him she was going to take his ass to court. She knew that nigga was going to be rich one day. Child support was something he didn’t want to get stuck with, so whatever the bitch needed, he gave it to her, whether it involved the kids or not. He swore up and down that he wasn’t having sex with her, but it was only a matter of time. I was tired of playing second to her. At first, I didn’t mind Niq’ stopping by the bitch’s house from time to time to see the kids. He really loved those little girls. And Peanut knew it, too. Peanut didn’t know anything about my relationship with her baby daddy, and after a while, I started to feel like the side chick. The bitch would call the nigga over at all times of the night, claiming that one of the twins couldn’t sleep if he didn’t sing her to sleep. So, when Niq’ said he wanted to stay in California, I chucked up the deuces on the nigga.

  Aunt Toni held the newspaper up to her face. “Ricque Cole is going to be Charlotte in two weeks!” she exclaimed, winking at me. She lowered the paper to see the “really, Aunt Toni?” expression on Nina’s face.

  I laughed out loud. “We rollin’ or what, Nina?”

  Nina looked at me like she wanted to smack my head from my body. “Y’all are both trippin’.”

  I looked at her, laughter subsiding a little. I knew the reason why she avoided Ricque. That girl wanted that boy more than anything. We were nineteen-years-old. She hadn’t seen or heard from that boy in four years. He stayed away to protect her from his ruthless family, but she stayed away from him to protect her secret. She didn’t want him to know she’d had an abortion, unknowingly pregnant with twins, killing one, leaving the other disabled. Don’t think that girl wouldn’t walk all the way to Charlotte to see that boy if that was what it took. When that boy left her, he took a piece of her with him. He’d awakened something in that girl from the first time she saw his face in person. I felt bad for my cousin, and I even felt bad for Ricque. Just about every song that he wrote had something to do with his encounter with Nina. And he was still showing off that tattoo he got back in 1998 that had her signature underneath it. He still loved her. The nigga had released three albums in those four years, and he dedicated every last album to his “Little Nina.”

  “It’s not your fault what happened to those babies, honey.” Aunt Toni sat the newspaper down on the dinner table.

  Nina just looked at her aunt. “How is it not my fault, Aunt Toni?”

  Aunt Toni shook her head at her niece, eying her niece’s short, curly tresses. She remembered Nina’s long, intense mane just like I did. Five years had gone by, and Nina’s hair had grown to meet her chin. It was super cute, but it still wasn’t what it was back in San Diego.

  “Your bitch-ass mama is the one who made you have that abortion, Nina.” Aunt Toni watched Nina shake her head. “She made you give up that baby! She was your mother; you had no choice than to do what she said! This woman has abused you all of your life! Do you know how long I’ve been asking your parents for you? I’ve been asking for you ever since you were three-years-old, and I went to visit you for Christmas. You had a black and blue handprint wrapped around your arm, Nina! I damn near tried to snatch your mama’s head from her shoulders that day! Every holiday that I came to visit, you had a new bruise. Your father got tired of his own issues that he had going on with your mama, and he left you in that bullshit. I couldn’t take it! When I saw you sitting there in that hospital in England, looking like your soul had left your body, I knew enough was enough.” Toni grabbed her niece’s hand, holding it in hers.

  Nina cried out loud. “Aunt Toni, I shouldn’t have had that abortion. I should have stood up to her.”

  “Baby, we all make mistakes.” Aunt Toni tried telling her.

  Nina slipped her hand from Aunt Toni’s. “Yeah? Well, my mistake left one dead, one disabled, and one not knowing what the hell I did to his babies!” Nina got up from the table.

  “Baby, you didn’t finish your food!” Aunt Toni called out to Nina’s back as Nina left out of the kitchen.

  “I lost my appetite, Aunt Toni.” Nina snapped at the one adult in our life who gave a fuck about us.

  I sighed as the timer on the microwave sounded. “That girl is never going to forgive herself; is she?” I opened the door to the microwave, taking the plate out of it.

  “I don’t think so. And therapy doesn’t seem to be helping.” Aunt Toni sighed.

  I looked at her as she sprinkled more of that damn parmesan cheese from that Comet can onto her food. I brought the plate of chicken over to the table and sat it down in front of her.

  Aunt Toni looked at me as I sat down in the seat next to her. “So, how is Nina’s daughter doing? She’ll be four in a few months. I bet she’s getting big; huh?”

  I just looked at Aunt Toni, figuring that Nina had mentioned it to her or that Aunt Toni was there at the hospital the day that Nina gave her baby up to my mother. I nodded. “Yeah, she’s doing good. Every now and then, the nanny lets her call me on the phone. She’s so smart and so beautiful. She looks just like Ricque and Nina put together.”

  Aunt Toni’s eyes glistened. “All this sadness just because two people fell in love.”

  I nodded, “Yeah.”

  I stayed up late that night, cleaning up the mess I’d made cooking in Aunt Toni’s kitchen. This dude, Keon, that I was seeing was texting me nonstop that night, asking me when we were going to hook up. Tired of the nigga texting me, I told him that after I cleaned my aunt’s kitchen, I’d call him to swing by and scoop me up. It had to be about 12:30 that night. I had already changed into my sexy, tight, grey sweater dress and g
rey, suede, knee-high boots. I’d shaved every piece of hair from my body that night, so when it was time for Keon to lick my kitty kat, there would be no issues. And no, I wasn’t wearing any underwear. There was no point in wearing any when they were about to come off in about an hour anyway.

  I stood, cleaning Aunt Toni’s smooth, porcelain stovetop that night when Uncle Timothy stumbled through the back door, which was the entrance to the kitchen.

  I rolled my eyes at his drunk ass and then turned back around to face the stove as he slammed the door behind him. Uncle Timothy was thirty-four years old. If he didn’t have such a fucked-up personality, the nigga would have been fine as fuck. He was built like a statue. He was muscular, perfect mustache, trimmed goatee. He was dark-skinned, looking something like Morris Chestnut. You know, a real lady-killer. And I hated him. Whenever he looked at me, he had that same twinge in his eyes that Bobbie had that night he raped me in that shower. I should have known by Uncle Timothy’s overly obsessive conversations with his wife about me that he’d attempt to try me when he got me alone. And there I was, in the kitchen, bent over the stove, in my short ass dress, with no panties on.

  “The fuck you doing up? And dressed like that? Where the fuck you think you’re going?” Uncle Timothy snapped on me.

  I smacked my lips, trying to play my fears of that man down. My heart pounded in my chest. “How many times do I have to tell you that I’m grown, Uncle Timothy?”

  Uncle Timothy came up behind me. I could smell the liquor, cigarettes, and what smelled like some woman’s cheap ass perfume all over him. The dude was so close to me that the air flowing from his nostrils caused the baby hairs on the back of my neck to sway. “I’m not your got-damn uncle, Kourtney,” Uncle Timothy snarled down my neck.

  I shook my head to myself, continuing to wipe down the stovetop. “You need to back the fuck up off of me, Uncle Timothy. You’re drunk, and you need to take your ass upstairs to your wife, who has been waiting for you to come home since 5:00. She’s been walking around the house butt naked with high heels on since 8:00!” I grabbed the oven cleaner and poured some onto the washcloth that I was using to wipe the stove.

  “Which one of your hood niggas are coming over my house to pick you up? Is it the Arab nigga who sells crack out of the corner store on Madison Street? Is it the DJ over at the Playground? How about the technical sergeant who works at my unit on Seymour Johnson? Which nigga is it tonight? Or should I say how many is it, Kourtney?” Uncle Timothy slid his hand up my thigh.

  I cringed, trying to push his hand away, as it slid all the way up to my hip. I gasped, finally able to push his hand away from my body. I turned around, facing him. I looked up into his face as he looked down into mine. “Get your got-damn hands off of me!” I squealed.

  This nigga was the damn head of the Sexual Assault Prevention Response Program on Seymour Johnson Air Force Base. What the fuck? I could only imagine what the women who worked for the nigga were going through! How the fuck could you even attempt to report a sexual assault or rape to the department if the head of the muthafuckin’ department was doing the sexual assault?

  Uncle Timothy looked up at me, his chest heaving in and out, like he’d just finished running six laps around the track. “You’re not wearing any panties. You must be going to see that nigga named Keon, who works as a stocker at Wal-Mart.”

  I just looked up at him. This muthafucka knew everything about me, ol’ perverted, stalkin’ muthafucka. He knew who the hell I was going to see based off of whether or not I was wearing underwear? That nigga was crazy. How Aunt Toni ended up with him, I don’t even know. She was losing her mind, and that nigga was losing his, too, it seemed.

  “Okay, Uncle Timothy, it’s obvious that you’ve had too much to drink.” I pushed past the muthafucka and headed over to the table to straighten up the paperwork that I had spread all over the table. I was just doodling the layout of the club that I was going to talk to Nina about opening as well. A club and a got-damn tattoo shop? Yeah, we were going do it big in Goldsboro, for sure.

  “That nigga can’t do shit for you but buy you a cart of Great Value brand groceries.” Uncle Timothy scoffed. “You know you’re used to Christian Louboutin, Louis Vutton, Gucci, Prada, and all that other shit. All this nigga can afford for you is buy-one-get-one-free at Payless. If you’re lucky, maybe an outfit or two at Citi Trends.”

  I shook my head, straightening up my stack of papers on the table. “Well, evidently he’s doing something right to be getting me to come see him without any got- damn panties on,” I muttered.

  “Why can’t you be more like Nina? She’s been here for years, and we haven’t seen one nigga walk through that front door. Your ass has only been here a year, and I’ve seen at least thirty muthafuckas on my front porch. You let them niggas beat the pussy on the regular. I bet your pussy walls are loose as a muthafucka.” Uncle Timothy approached me at the table.

  I looked up at him, my entire body trembling, as Uncle Timothy looked me over, the smell of Hennessey on his breath. Just when his body pressed against mine, I snatched the scissors from the table and put it to the nigga’s neck. “You think I’m gonna let you find out, muthafucka?” I hissed, tears already sliding down my face.

  I was just about to dig the scissors through his neck when he snatched me by my wrist with one hand and snatched the scissors from my hand with his other.

  I yelped as he tossed the scissors to the floor. “Get the fuck off of me!” I screamed, trying to push him off of me.

  And he smacked me dead in my face.

  My body flew onto the dining room table, and Uncle Timothy stood before me, unbuckling his pants.

  I sat up from the table, screaming when this nigga snatched my body to his, holding me by my thighs. My dress was around my waist, and my legs were in the air. I screamed with everything in me as this nigga’s body hovered over mine. “No! Stop!” I screamed, trying to push him off of me.

  And just when this nigga forced his way inside of me, the main light of the kitchen flicked on. I screamed out just when Aunt Toni screamed at the top of her lungs.

  Uncle Tim eased his way out of me, and I sat up from the dinner table, seeing Aunt Toni standing in the doorway entrance to her kitchen, gun aimed at her husband.

  “The fuck are you doing to that little girl?” Aunt Toni’s eyes were bloodshot red. I don’t think she was Aunt Toni at that moment. Nina said she had multiple personalities, though up until that point, I’d never saw any of them. Aunt Toni was dressed in a red lace bra, red lace panties, and nude Red Bottoms. She waited all night for that nigga to come fuck her, and there he was, trying to fuck me. Yeah, she’d snapped.

  “She’s not a little girl, Toni.” Uncle Timothy struggled to pull up his pants.

  “She’s my little girl, muthafucka! And who the fuck is Toni?” And Toni shot this nigga in the shoulder.

  I screamed out. “No, Aunt Toni!”

  By this time, Nina had made her way into the kitchen, seeing her uncle dropping to his knees.

  Aunt Toni shot this nigga again in his stomach, and he fell to his face.

  ***

  Did Aunt Toni kill the bastard? Damn near. The neighbors called the cops when they heard the gunshots. Shit, we were just gonna let the nigga bleed to death on that kitchen floor. He was rushed to the hospital, and Aunt Toni was taken into custody. I was too shaken up to call home. Nina hadn’t talked to her mother since the day Aunt Toni picked her up from that hospital in England. And I hadn’t talked to my mother in over a year, since the day I left for North Carolina in 2002. She didn’t want me to leave her. I had no idea why it even mattered to her. She never showed me the least bit of affection, but the day that I left her, she acted as if I was breaking her heart. Nina thought I should try to call my mom and tell her what happened to me. I didn’t see a point. I’d been trying to call my mom that entire year, and she had yet to return my calls.

  “Hello?” A male voice answered the phone, sounding as if we’d just wo
ken him up. It had to be around 4:00 that morning when the police finally left Nina’s aunt’s house with Aunt Toni in cuffs, and Uncle Timothy’s ass led out in the ambulance on a stretcher.

  “Ummm,” Nina hesitated, looking at me crying to myself on Aunt Toni’s couch. Nina put the phone on speaker, so I could hear my mother’s voice, but instead, some nigga’s voice that I didn’t know was chiming through the phone.

  “Who the hell is this calling my fiancé’s phone at 4:00 in the got-damn morning?” the rude asshole yelled through the phone.

  Nina wasn’t having all that attitude. Her sad demeanor changed up real quick. “Whoa, wait a minute, muthafucka. This is Nina Cambridge, your fiancé’s niece. Can you get my aunt? I don’t give a damn what time it is! If I’m calling this late, it’s got to be an emergency, damn!”

  I heard my mother’s voice in the background. “Honey, who is that?”

  It sounded as if the dude was covering the phone with his hand, trying to muffle his voice. “Some girl who says she’s your niece.”

  “My niece? Nina?” Mama sounded a little excited to hear from Nina, but she still didn’t come to the phone. “Well, what does she want?”

  “What is it that you want, Nina?” The man uncovered the phone, speaking directly into it.

  Nina shook her head to herself. “Tell your fiancé that her daughter was raped last night. Can you do that for me?”

  I cried out loud.

  Nina’s eyes sparkled, listening to my mom’s new nigga telling her that I had been raped. “Ummm, Nina just said that your daughter was raped…”

  There was dead silence before the nigga got back on the phone to say, “Hilary said to call her back when she wakes up. It’s early, Nina, and she has to get up in a few hours to get ready for work.”

  And the nigga hung up in Nina’s face.

  After a few days in jail without her medication, it became obvious to the muthafuckas that Aunt Toni wasn’t quite right in the head. And though she was very coherent when she explained to them why she tried to kill her husband, she didn’t know who she was. She kept referring to herself as Sade. Nothing happened to Timothy, who was an officer in the military, raping young girls. Apparently, I wasn’t the only complaint that had been filed against the pervert. The only thing they did to that muthafucka was transfer him to a unit in got-damn Alaska. And they still left that nigga in charge of the sexual assault prevention program.