by T. N. Baker
“Who is it?” I said, responding to a knock at the door.
“Is everything okay?” my mother said, talking quietly through the door.
“It will be if you can look after the baby for me just a little while longer, because I need to be alone for a while.” She agreed. Out of embarrassment and all the mixed emotions beating me in my head, I stayed locked in my room for the rest of the night.
Chapter 36
SHANA
Chasity had been calling me all morning with straight drama. Who knew this chick would have turned out to be a psycho bitch? I didn’t even have caller ID so I could screen my calls. I decided not to answer the phone anymore. I just hoped K.C. didn’t try to call me, ’cause he’d be trippin’. I had already spoken to his boy Smitty and confirmed our meeting. We decided to hook up at the food court in Queens Center Mall, somewhere crowded and noisy.
* * *
When I got to the mall, the nigga wasn’t there. He told me that he would be wearing a Philly 76ers Allen Iverson jersey, blue jeans, and some all-white Air Force Ones. I ordered some KFC and waited. Twenty minutes later, this nigga had the nerve to come strolling in to the food court with bags in his hand. I couldn’t believe I was here to do his ass a favor and he had me waiting while he shopped. That was some bullshit, I didn’t even know his ass, and already I wasn’t feeling him.
I raised my hand to catch his attention. He walked over to the table on some real hard shit, like he had just won an award for thug of the year. I wanted to laugh, ’cause if it was that serious, we wouldn’t be there now trying to plot his payback for C-God whipping his ass.
“Yo, what up, ma?” he said as he sat down.
“What up?” I responded back.
“Yo, ma, you look mad familiar. I seen you before?” he asked, staring me in the face.
“Yeah, that’s possible. You’re from my projects.”
“Oh, word,” he said, acting like he didn’t know.
“Listen, what’s really good?” I said, trying to cut all the small talk and get down to the topic at hand.
“Yo, I wanna murder the nigga C-God. Him and that pussy-ass nigga Mike that roll with him,” he said in a hostile tone.
“Well, K.C. ain’t say all that. He just said y’all was gonna rob him.”
“Come on, ma. You from the hood, so I know you ain’t no dummy. How the fuck you gon’ rob a nigga like him and not split his wig, unless you ready to die? You feel what I’m saying, ma?”
“Yeah, I feel you, but if you don’t mind me asking, what is y’all beef over?”
“Man, some bitch I fucked got that nigga open off her ass or something. So I’m out chilling by myself and shit at this little spot, you know what I’m saying, and I sees the bitch, right? So I said hi to her. Next thing I know, that punk-ass nigga and his boy done snuff me out and shit for speaking to the ho.
“Yo, all I got to say is them niggas is lucky I wasn’t strapped that night and ain’t seen them since, ’cause that’s my word, niggas would’ve been a memory by now. That bitch too. Matter of fact, I rolled up on her ass a while back, wishing I had the gat.” He started to get real hype as he spoke.
“Who’s the girl?” I said, not really caring, just being nosey.
“Some bitch, man. I can’t even remember the bitch’s name. She a light-skin chick. She drive a fucking silver three-twenty-five.”
“Epiphany!” I blurted out. Actually, I wasn’t surprised at all. I should’ve put that shit together a long time ago, when he first said some girl who was out with C, but then again, everybody knew that nigga C-God be running around with different chicks.
“Yeah. How you know her?” Smitty sounded really curious.
“Let’s just say she’s like my family, and if you want me to give you the info you need, you gotta leave her out of it.”
“Man, fuck that ho,” he said like he had to put some thought into to it. “A’ight, a’ight, I ain’t gon’ fuck with her.”
I knew most of the time E got on my nerves, but Keish was right when she said Epiphany was the way she was and had been ever since we’d known her. I wasn’t trying to go out like that, letting something happen to her that I could prevent.
To make a long story short, I gave up the location to C’s Long Island apartment in West Hempstead. The only thing about his spot was you gotta be buzzed in to get inside. To my knowledge, only Mike knew about that spot. Oh, and of course me. I also knew where Mike’s baby momma lived at in Brooklyn, right off of Atlantic Avenue on, I think, Carlton Place or Fulton, one or the other. I told Smitty that Mike was always resting his head at her house.
Just as we were getting ready to go our separate ways, this psycho bitch Chasity came from out of nowhere, blowing up my spot with all her yelling and screaming.
“Oh, this is the muthafucka you left me for? This scrawny, dusty-ass li’l nigga right here?”
“Bitch, who the fuck you calling scrawny and dusty, you dyke bitch?” Smitty said, ready to scrap.
“If I’m a dyke, then your bitch is one too, ’cause she eats pussy just like I do,” Chasity screamed, putting me on blast and embarrassing the shit out of me.
“Yo, ma, you get down like that?” Smitty asked me.
“Hell, no. She’s just mad ’cause I don’t.”
All I could do was deny every word that came out of her mouth by saying, “You need to stop it. Don’t be mad ’cause I ain’t no fucking carpet muncher, bitch.”
Boy, why did I say the B-word? She charged at me like a raging bull and started swinging. Look, I wasn’t no punk bitch; I just didn’t want to fight the girl. What happened next, she brought on herself.
She was still running off with the mouth and trying to fight me, so Smitty grabbed her up off of me and punched her right in her mouth. She hit the floor, and we hit the door just before security came.
Smitty walked me to my car, but ended up having to drive me home because my tires were slashed and windshield was smashed. He was amused by the bullshit.
“Damn, yo, that was some crazy shit. Yo, why she acting like that? I’m saying, you sure you ain’t never licked on that girl’s pussy? ’Cause that bitch is fuckin’ looney, yo,” he said, full of laughter.
I didn’t open my mouth. Besides, it was none of his fucking business, asking twenty-one questions and don’t even know me. I knew he couldn’t wait to tell K.C., and that was the only nigga I had to answer to.
Chapter 37
KEISHA
I tossed and turned, trying to get some sleep. It was only 11:00 p.m. and I could not stop thinking about that tape. It also dawned on me that I hadn’t spoken to Tucker all day, so I picked up the cordless and called him on his cell. The phone rang about six times then went to voice mail. As I was leaving a message, he beeped in on the other line. I clicked over.
“Hello?”
“What’s up, Keish?” he said nonchalantly.
“Nothing. Where are you?”
“Come on, Keish. You know I can’t discuss that over the phone,” he said.
“Well, I want you to come home tonight. I need you,” I said.
“Listen, Keish. We already talked about this shit. I told you what’s going on, and you guys don’t need to be around it.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. So how are we supposed to be getting married in four days if you won’t even come home?” I said, rudely interrupting what he was saying.
“We won’t be if you don’t let me handle my business. Night. I gotta go.” Click. He hung up on me.
I dialed him back, but my call went straight to voice mail this time. I waited for about five seconds and dialed him again and got the same results—his voice mail. This was not good. How could something that had been so good for more than five years turn bad in two weeks?
I got up from the bed and went over to my panty drawer, where I had stashed the tape. Maybe there was something on it besides me that might help me figure out who was behind it.
Within the first two minutes, a weakness f
ell over me as I watched the tape. I tried to ignore that pounding feeling, along with the wetness I felt between my legs, but I couldn’t fight it any longer. I masturbated to the fast and slow strokes he laid upon me that night, the biting, the sucking, the licking, and kissing. That night I experienced pure ecstasy, coming close but not close enough to the phenomenal feeling of pleasure he had given me. Compared to his, my touch was a tease. I wanted more. I wanted him, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it again.
“Damn, I should’ve stuck to dirty chats on the Internet.”
That morning, I awoke to wet kisses from my little man, while my big one watched, before he kissed me. Maybe it was all dream, I thought, actually hoping it was, until I sat up in the bed and noticed that the VCR light was still on and the TV screen was fuzzy. I jumped up in a panic and turned both of them off.
“Well, good morning to you too,” Tucker said.
“Good morning,” I replied, remembering him abruptly hanging up on me and turning off his phone last night. Before I could address it, he did, with an apology and flowers he had sitting on the nightstand. He said he needed me to understand that he was dealing with a life or death situation, and in the game, just surviving alone was an everyday struggle.
“I don’t always tell you how serious shit is because I don’t want you to worry any more than you already do. Just know, no matter what happens, nothing will ever change how much I love you, and hopefully my business will be straight in the next forty-eight hours so we can move on to the happy times.”
With all that said, he kissed me and the baby and was gone again. At least he left me with the reassurance I needed to help get rid of all those tainted thoughts from last night: the tape and the memories.
Chapter 38
EPIPHANY
Malikai had proven how persistent he could be. All week he’d been calling me to say hi, check on me, or just for small talk. Sometimes small talk was helpful. Last night, we’d spent about three hours on the phone reminiscing on some of the good times. I’d actually forgotten we shared so many. We got along really good, come to think about it. Talking to him made me realize I missed him more than just a little. I even agreed to let him come over, but now I was not so sure that was a good idea, because this pregnancy hadn’t been agreeing with me at all.
I was sick all the time. I hadn’t been able to hold any food down, so I just stopped eating. I had gone to the clinic the other day to put an end to this misery, but they told me that I needed to be at least six weeks, and I was only four.
I knew that if this was Mali’s baby, things would be a lot different; especially since this would have been his first kid. We probably would have had a double wedding—Keisha and Tucker and me and him. That would’ve been fly. Shit, I should just give him some pussy, I thought, wait two weeks, and then tell him I’m pregnant by him. Just my luck I’d have a li’l tar baby, black as hell, looking just like C-God. Nah, that wouldn’t work.
I really needed to talk to someone about what I was going through. Usually, Keisha would be the one I confided in, but ever since that incident between C and Tucker, I couldn’t go and tell her I was pregnant by her man’s enemy. She wouldn’t understand. What kind of friend was I? If I was a good friend, I wouldn’t be in this situation right now.
My hormones had me feeling real emotional and down on myself. I hated the person I was. I hated the fact that my friends had become so distant. How did we go from talking every day to only on special occasions? Oh my God, I was starting to sound like Keisha now. I hated that. I also hated not having a man to love me like I needed to be loved, but more than anything, I hated C-God’s trifling-ass and this baby. That last thought of hate did it for me. I busted out into an uncontrollable cry.
The doorbell rang. I wasn’t expecting Malikai for another half hour. Damn, I fucked up when I told him he didn’t have to call before he came.
“Just a minute.” I ran to the bathroom to fix my face, but with puffy red eyes, there wasn’t much I could do to hide the fact that I had been crying.
My doorbell rang again, only this time it was more of an impatient, hurry-up-and-open-the-door ring. I ran to the door, yelling, “Okay, I’m coming.”
When I opened it, it wasn’t Malikai. I tried to close it back quickly, but it was too late. C-God forced his way in.
“Yo, what the fuck is up with you? You got a nigga coming by your fucking crib every day and shit looking for you. I don’t do that shit for no bitch, but yet a nigga doing that shit for you. What the fuck? You thought you was gon’ just play me like that? Why the fuck you change your number, huh? What, you fucking with some crab-ass nigga now or something? I should fuck you up!”
C started to get real angry when I refused to answer him. He started calling me every bitch and ho word you could possibly think of. I didn’t want to show any signs of weakness, but I couldn’t help it as the tears started to roll down my face again.
C-God really started to scare me with his threats. He said if he caught me fucking with anybody, he was gonna kill ’em and cut my face up bad. That threat caught my attention fast.
I looked up at him, and I could tell he was high. I could always tell, because his nose would sweat and get so wide it was scary. I had to get him out of my house, because if Mali came while he was there, ain’t no telling what might have gone down. I walked over to my answering machine and played the message I had been saving for him to hear.
“Our shit is over and done with, C-God. You’re busted. There’s no need to explain anything, the message explained it all for you. With Tanya is obviously where you wanna be, since you supposedly ain’t her baby’s daddy, but yet you’re still fucking her.
“You know what, though? It’s cool. Y’all can have each other. I have nothing else to say, so if you’d excuse me, I got shit to do,” I said, hoping he’d just leave without making the situation worse.
“Yo, E, don’t give me that you-the-victim bullshit. It ain’t like you ain’t know shit. You wanted me to beat on that pussy from day one, and you knew I was fucking with ol’ girl then. Now all of sudden you wanna act like the Virgin Mary and shit, like you got fucking morals now. Bitch, please!
“You right about one thing, though. Tanya’s pussy is where I wanna be. You know why? ’Cause she got a fucking brain. All you wanna do is spend a nigga’s dough and look cute all fucking day, but it’s all good. You know what? Fuck you, Epiphany.” On his way out the door, he grabbed something from my hallway table. “I’m going home to wifey and my new son now. Have a nice life, bitch.”
I didn’t know what he took, and at that point I didn’t care. I slammed the door and locked both locks, relieved that he left, ’cause he was about to find out that I was the wrong bitch to fuck with. Still, my feelings were hurt from all the mean shit he said. I lay on the couch and continued to cry as his painful words repeated over in my head.
Minutes later, my doorbell rang again, but this time I got up and ran to my closet for my nine. I wanted to kill that muthafucka.
My daddy didn’t raise a soft bitch; he taught me how to shoot. When I was eighteen, he started me off with a .22, but he said those small-ass guns were only made to wound a nigga, slow ’em down but not kill ’em. Then when I turned twenty-one, he gave me my nine, something that packed a punch, and it would kill a nigga. So, if that nigga thought he was gon’ come up in here again talking shit to me like I was some weak-ass bitch, then I was gonna have to show him a real bitch.
I rushed to the front door in a rage. This time, instead of just opening it, I peeked out the window first and saw Malikai walking back toward his truck.
Chapter 39
KEISHA
It was just one of those days. Tucker called that morning and dropped a bomb on me.
“Keish, look, this ain’t got shit to do with us, so don’t even think that, all right? It’s just bad timing right now, that’s all. Too much shit is going on for me to even focus on getting married, so just call everybody and tell ’em that the shit
ain’t canceled, just postponed until further notice.”
What kind of shit is that, three days before? How the hell . . .? I mean, what did he expect me to tell them? “We’re still getting married, I just don’t know when.” Unbelievable! First he couldn’t stay home ’cause it was too dangerous, and now he was postponing the wedding. What next? Leaving me for another woman?
This was just too much for me. I tell you, when it rains it pours. I needed some serious pampering—a nice massage, manicure, pedicure, facial, and waxing. That’s what we did, the four of us. My mom and sisters seemed to enjoy it the most, because it was their first time. Me, I was a regular.
The massage was good, but it didn’t change the fact that I was still upset, and on top of all that, I was horny as hell. The masseur’s big, strong hands and Kenny G’s “Songbird” playing softly in the background gave me a chill up my spine. I didn’t know what was wrong with me lately, except for the fact that I hadn’t had sex since . . . well, you know.
I was past that now. I needed some dick from my man—the man who was supposed to become my husband in three days. Now sex with Tucker seemed too far-fetched. Ever since I told him no, he hadn’t touched me. I knew he had shit going on, but that had never kept him from wanting it before.
I had tried to get a quickie when he came by to check on us the last time. I even offered to meet him at a hotel, and the answer was no. So, if this was his idea of payback, he got me.
I opened up my wallet and pulled out my credit card to pay for our day at the spa. There it was, temptation staring me in the face once again—The Damager’s card, the card that I should’ve left in the garbage but hadn’t. I’d forgotten all about it, but this time, as soon as I got home I was gonna tear it up and throw it away.
* * *
I tried to get rid of it; I swear. I actually thought I could, especially since the tape was so easy to destroy and discard. . . after watching it a couple of times. I needed to do the right thing for all the right reasons, I kept telling myself. I was getting married one day. Tucker was just going through some drama that had nothing to do with us. How could I even think about another man? Where was my loyalty?
