I Gave Him My Heart

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I Gave Him My Heart Page 17

by Krystal Armstead


  Before I could continue going off on her, Nina smacked me in the face. I mean, she made my head go all the way back. Dead silence. Nobody moved. Not even me, who stood there in shock that my own sister would hit me in my face.

  Nina got in my face, finger pointing up at me. “I am the only one in your got-damn life who gives a fuck about you, Kourtney! Don’t you ever in your got-damn life think I want anything but the best for you! I’m not about to let you stand here and talk shit to me when you know I’ve never, ever judged you! I’ve always seen your potential; you’re the one who didn’t believe in yourself, not me! You were the one who was too afraid to get out there and try life on your own! I’m not trying to compete with my own sista, and you’re making this a competition! You’re taking on more than you can handle, just to show the world that you can make it without me! Well, it’s hard out here on your own, Kourtney! You wanna go out there, then go got-dammit! You wanna leave me when you’ve been by my side since I was a baby, then go! I’m not trying to stop your shine! Just be smart about it! Grow the fuck up!”

  Tears slid down my face as I pushed past her to grab my Juicy Couture Black label floral trench coat from off of the countertop.

  “Kourtney, where are you going?” Pretty tried to grab my arm, but I pulled from her.

  “Out this bitch before I beat that bitch!” I screamed. “My own sister just hit me in the face! After everything I’ve been through, after everything I’ve done for her! Fuck her!” I grabbed my keys and stormed out of the shop.

  I hopped in my ride, throwing my coat in the passenger seat. Just when I was contemplating about doing something completely stupid to my life, I looked over and saw the velvet box that Knox had given me the night before. I dried my face, reaching for the box. I popped it open to find a shiny key and a note inside. I took the note from the box, unfolding it.

  The note read, “Meet me at 423 Sicamore Street. There’s a party for two, just you and me. Come as you are, just make sure that you come… so maybe I can make sure you cum. Just playin’… unless you’re gonna do it! (LOL Smiley Face).”

  That idiot managed to make me smile through my pain. There weren’t too many people in my life that could do that. I needed a little pick me up anyway, so why not go?

  Turned out, the address wasn’t too far from me. Maybe about a twenty-minute drive, not too far from the airport, alongside Bavaro Beach. I pulled up to this amazing villa alongside the beach. I stepped out of my car, looking around in awe. There had to be at least eight bedrooms in that villa. It had to be about eight thousand square feet. It was constructed beautifully, embracing the spirit of Punta Cana with just a touch of European flavor. I walked up to the villa, cutting through coconut palm trees. The ocean view was breathtaking. The fresh ocean breeze flowed through my hair. The fresh smell of ocean water and sea salt flowed through my nose.

  I spotted Knox’s car parked out front as I walked through the breezeway to the front entrance of the house. I looked down at the key in my fingers as I slid the key through the knob and then through the deadbolt lock. I slowly opened the front door, stepping inside. The entrance led into the living room. The house was immaculately clean, filled with nothing but the latest modern furniture. Huge paintings mounted in gold frames hung from the wall. I didn’t have to get up close and personal with each painting to know that Knox did them all. I wanted to look around the place a lot more, but I wanted to find Knox to tell him how my day had gone so far.

  Just when I thought, Damn, I gotta climb all them got-damn steps to get to the third floor, I noticed the elevator in the hallway. I strutted through the place, making my way to the elevator. A post-it was stuck to the chrome door that read, “I’m in the penthouse suite, third floor.” I took a deep breath before pressing the “up” button on the wall. I stepped inside, and the elevator took me to the penthouse.

  When I stepped outside of the elevator that afternoon, I saw the most beautiful sight ever. Knox was painting. Canvases, paint brushes, clay sculptures, potter’s wheels, oil paint, acrylic paint, chalk, pastels, easels, camera equipment, everything was everywhere. Knox sat on a bench, in front of a homemade canvas that had to be about 6 x 8 feet. Knox was painting the view outside of the penthouse window. And it was amazing. The painting looked so real that you felt like you were standing right in the middle of that beach. He painted the picture from the perspective of someone who was wearing sunglasses. The picture was awesome. He was fuckin’ awesome.

  “Well,” I said, breaking his concentration. “This isn’t Chuck E. Cheese.”

  Knox looked at me over his dust-covered shoulder. He was dressed in a white tank top and the sweats I saw him in that morning. He still rocked his jewelry. White Nike socks covered his feet.

  Knox grinned back at me. “No, it ain’t no got-damn Chuck E. Cheese. I see you came to play though. Kick your shoes off. Come paint with me.”

  I sighed, kicking my heels off, setting my keys and purse down next to them. I walked over to him, dressed in my pink, cotton, spandex, long-sleeved dress with silver belt. I walked over and sat down next to Knox on his workbench. I looked down at his muscular arms as he continued to paint.

  “Cute dress.” Knox grinned, still eyeing his painting. “Just came from Sunday School?”

  I shoved him. “No, I tried to wear something classy for a change, thinking maybe Trench would be there, but he wasn’t. The girls said that he shot the scenes without me. I can’t even trip; I just need to be glad the bitch didn’t press charges. If she did, I really don’t care though. Jail time would be worth beating that bitch’s face in. Can you believe Nina called me irresponsible?” My thoughts were all over the place.

  “Your actions were pretty irresponsible.” Knox sounded as if he hated to agree.

  I scoffed, eyeing his perfect profile. “The fuck you mean?”

  “You gotta learn to keep your emotions in check. You’re about to be a reality TV star. They’re just waiting for you to do something wrong, bae, so they can jump down your throat. Just wait ‘til tomorrow morning. I can see Monday’s headline now, ‘Kourtney Chambers beats Priscilla Bailey within an inch of her life during the filming of the pilot for new reality show.’” Knox shook his head, his paintbrush gliding over the canvas. Knox finally looked at me long enough to notice my sparkly pink lipstick. He grinned a little, looking at my lips before looking into my eyes. “The media is going to rip you a new asshole for this one, no matter what your reason was.”

  “Well, I have a pretty good reason.” I sighed, watching him look back at his painting. “She-” I might as well tell him; everyone fuckin’ knows already. “She raped me every weekend, from the age of five until the age of ten.”

  Knox stopped painting. He lowered his head, shaking his head to himself, not saying a work to me for what seemed like the longest minute ever. He looked at me, his light brown eyes sparkling. “Fuck,” he whispered.

  I nodded. “She made me do all types of shit to her and her boyfriend. I haven’t talked about this shit since I was a kid. And the fact that I had to see her again after so long, and she had the nerve to tell me that she missed me, that she was going to make sure I worked right under her, made me wanna kill her with my bare hands, no matter the consequences.”

  Knox’s eyes traced my face.

  “I tried telling Nina about it this morning. And she still said that I needed to grow the fuck up! Nina hasn’t been through the shit that I’ve been through! My actions run deep! She should have known that I wouldn’t have stomped that bitch if it wasn’t for something major!” I exclaimed. “It’s too late to have my cousin arrested for what she’s done to me, but it wasn’t too late to beat the Mac makeup off her ass!”

  Knox smiled a little, shaking his head at me.

  “I just wanted Nina to be my shoulder to lean on like I’ve always been hers. I’d do anything for her. She’s my sista.” I sighed. “She slapped me in front of everyone at the shop this morning because I told her that I was done being her bitch. T
hat she wasn’t going to run my life anymore.”

  Knox’s grin faded; he just looked my face over. He exhaled deeply. “Just let things die down for a few days. You know Nina loves you. You can stay with me for a few days. Since you wanna clown a nigga about being young, I’ve got plenty of toys to play with; I’m talkin’ big wheels and everything, homie.” Knox watched me roll my eyes.

  I looked at Knox. “So, whose house is this?”

  “Mine.” Knox made a face at me like I must not have realized how much money he had or something.

  “You don’t share this big ass house with anyone?” I shook my head at him and the amount of money he had.

  “I rent it out to a few of my homeboys when they travel. It’s a great honeymoon spot. Plenty of babies were made in these rooms, shorty.” Knox laughed at me shaking my head at him.

  “How many girls have you brought here?” I rolled my neck at him.

  “Up here in the Penthouse Suite? None. Out there in the pool house? About two or three. Maybe five or six.” Knox looked back at his painting, dragging long, even strokes across the canvas.

  I sighed. “Well, at least you’re honest. I can give your young ass that much credit.” I looked at his painting. “This painting is going to be beautiful when you’re done. That painting you did of me with my cousin, Knox, that painting was awesome! You’re fuckin’ awesome!”

  Knox scoffed. “Even though I’m in kindergarten, as you say?”

  I laughed at my own jokes. “I mean, kindergarten is fun. You get to eat snacks, color, take naps, and shit! I’m pretty sure your life is like an after school special. Shit, you’re probably too young to remember those ol’ corny ass movies back in the 80s. When were you born? 2012?”

  Knox laughed out loud. “April 1, 1990, yo! Why the fuck you always trying to play me?” He watched me laughing out loud.

  I ended my laugh with a sigh. “Because you actually think that you have a chance with me, that’s why. I don’t want just sex from a nigga.”

  “Why makes you think that’s all I have to offer?” Knox looked down at his tank top, which was splattered with blue, white, and yellow paint. He pulled the shirt up and over his head, tossing it over in my lap.

  I looked his tatted body over. His body was amazing; his muscles had muscles. That nigga had to have at least a hundred tattoos. There wasn’t a spot on his back that wasn’t covered in tattoos. His chest, ribs, and abdomen were covered in song lyrics, scriptures, names.

  “‘Body Party’?” I looked at a line from Ciara’s song etched across his chest. “You have a line from ‘Body Party’ on your chest, boy?”

  Knox grinned. “One of my sista’s friends is a dancer. The first time I saw shorty dance was to this song. Shorty was bad. She wasn’t feeling me too much either. Said I was too hood for her; she didn’t know who I was, and probably could care less. But anyway, shorty won my heart with this song a few years ago.”

  I looked over his tattoos. “Umm-hmm. So why aren’t you with the girl?”

  “She’s with Jamie Green. But after meeting you, I can see why it never worked out with anyone else. I was supposed to meet you; that’s what I think.” I felt his eyes watching me as I looked over the tattoos.

  I tried to not pay him any mind. “So, why so many tattoos?”

  Knox sighed. “I tried covering up old memories with new ones.”

  I looked up into his face. “What do you mean?”

  “Not sure if you’re ready to hear about my life, Kourtney. Not even sure if I’m ready to talk about it. But I’m sure as hell tired of holding it in. Trench Carter called me a little while ago, asking if I’d do the show. He said they’d consider keeping you on the show if I made some appearances. I told him if I did, I wanted to only be known as Knox. That I didn’t want my full name to come up. Not sure if I can trust the nigga though. It’s reality TV. The shit on Reelz TV isn’t scripted; the drama is real. Trench lives for that shit. He likes airing dirty laundry, and I have a feeling that is why he wanted to do a show about the Nicolas family. They want to find out all the dirt they can on the family. So be careful. Your secrets will probably come out first.” Knox watched me reading over his body.

  I scoffed. “Messy muthafuckas.”

  “Can you sculpt?” Knox asked me, changing the subject.

  I shrugged, looking over at the potter’s wheel that had a huge lump of clay thrown on top of it. “I’ve never tried it, but I’m sure I could.” I looked back at Knox. “You brought me here to paint, color, and shit? Oh yeah, this is so kindergarten!”

  Knox smiled, shaking his head at me. “Nah, I brought you here to relax. To get away from everyone. And I brought you here because I wanted to paint you and then take your picture.”

  I made a face, watching him get up from off of the stool, walking over to the corner of the room where he had a white sheet laid out of the floor with paint buckets and paintbrushes laid out all over it. Camera equipment was set up around the white sheet. I looked at Knox as he went over to pop open the paint cans.

  “So, ummm, you wanna paint my picture and then take a picture of the portrait? Is that what you mean?” I asked, clearing my throat.

  “Nah, I meant take your got-damn clothes off, so I can paint you. Then, I wanna take a picture of my art work, which would be you.” Knox grinned, watching me swallow hard.

  There I sat on the bench, gripping it tightly in my hands. Man, this boy was seriously working my nerves, in a good way. I sighed, watching him open up all six cans of paint.

  “I was thinking about this last night when I carried you to the car in that skintight dress.” I watched him organize a few tubes of acrylic paint alongside the cans of paint. “It was so tight; it looked like it was painted on. Just the inspiration I needed for my art show next month. I was trying to decide what to do for my photography pieces. And you’re perfect. So, come on. Take everything off and come lay on this sheet, so I can paint the perfect picture.” Knox watched me shaking my head. “Let me cheer you up, Kourtney Marie.”

  I looked at him. This fool knew my middle name. My mother used to call me Kourtney Marie every time she was trying to butter me up. As fucked up as my mother was, I really missed her. I’d give anything just to argue with her again. I sighed, getting up from the bench. “I’m gonna need a beer, a Heineken, a Bud Light, something, bruh.”

  Knox grinned. “A’ight. I got you. I have drinks in the ‘fridge down the hall.”

  “And snacks.” I spoke up. “Like chocolate or gummie bears or something. I know kindergarteners keep snacks on deck.”

  “I’ma have to go down to the kitchen, Ma. But I got’cha.” Knox grinned.

  By the time Knox came back upstairs with the sweets and the beer, I was already naked. I stood there, in the middle of the white sheet, naked, ready to get to work. The nigga was lucky I’d shaved everything the night before, or he was going to be SOL, Shit Out of Luck like a muthafucka. I wasn’t going to get naked in front of his ass, looking like Big Foot’s sister.

  Knox laughed out loud, not so much at me, but at the fact that I wasn’t nervous or scared of his ass. “That’s what the fuck I’m talkin’ about.” He chuckled.

  I walked up to him, taking the Heineken bottle from his hands and a pack of Haribo Gummies. “So, where do you want me?” I asked, taking a sip from the bottle. “Standing up, laying down, legs spread, what, nigga?”

  Knox laughed, looking me over a little. His eyes danced around my nipple rings before tracing down my abdomen to my shaved pussy. Knox squinted his eyes a little as if he was trying to get a closer view. This nigga grabbed me by my waist with one hand, and then with his other hand, this nigga spread my pussy lips open a little to get a better view of my pierced clit.

  Oh my goodness, I burst out laughing. I pushed him in his chest. “Hey, nigga, don’t touch!”

  “You got’cha clit pierced?” Knox grinned, watching me back up a little “Huh? Why you laughin’ at me? Come here, let me see that pussy.”

&nb
sp; “No, nigga! You can see without touching it!” I laughed. “That area is sensitive as hell, dude. The idiot who did the shit had to pierce it twice because she did it wrong the first time.”

  “When is the last time somebody played with that ring between their teeth?” Knox asked, tilting his head a little, still trying to get a glimpse at it. He tried to reach for it.

  I pushed his hand away. “Like a year and a half. Nigga, would you stop!”

  Knox’s eyes widened a little, “Since you had sex? Your pussy hasn’t had any visitors in a year and a half?”

  I laughed out loud. “No, fool; I meant it’s been a year and a half since I let anyone taste it! It’s only been a year since I’ve had sex.”

  “The pussy was workin’ mad overtime, wasn’t it?” Knox grinned at me, gaze making its way back to the hood of my clit. He reached for it again, that time rubbing the ring between his two fingers.

  I pushed his hand away, dying laughing at his bold ass. I think what got me was that as flirtatious as he was, his playfulness made me feel like a teenager. I could actually have a good time with this guy. I needed a good time after all of the bad times that I had.

  “Man,” Knox shook his head. “I’m over here thinking about fuckin’ the shit out of you, and you’re probably gonna fuck the shit outta’ me! I can’t wait for you to put the pussy on me. You probably gonna have a nigga screaming like a little girl, huh? Just don’t hurt Timmy too bad, okay?”

  “Oh my goodness, Timmy? That’s what you call the nigga? Lil’ Timmy?” I was dying laughing.

  “Nah,” Knox tried to correct himself. “Don’t try to play me. ‘Li’l’ Timmy’ my ass. You wanna see my shit?” This nigga was about to whip it out.

  I grabbed his arm to stop him from pulling it out. “Oh my goodness, no!”

 

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