Ding-dong!
My doorbell. I had paused on the steps, looking up from my purse. Nobody came to my house this late except—
"Open the door, Monifa! It's Coras!"
Ding-dong!
I set my purse on the couch and opened the door like an idiot. He could be here to beat me to death. But I wanted to see him. I needed to see him.
And he looked just as handsome as ever standing just outside my doorway. His face was lit up by the welcome light above my door—behind him was the absolute dark of night—and he was looking at me like I had some explaining to do. I gave him the same look.
We stood here in silence for a moment, staring at each other stubbornly, feeling each other out.
"Apologize," he demanded.
"For what?" I said.
He turned to leave and I went after him. I grabbed him by his dark thermal shirt and pulled him into my house, shutting the door behind us. He reached for the knob but I leaned against the door, crossing my arms. I was a thick woman, and it wouldn't be easy for him to move me.
He tried though, grabbing onto me as I pushed him away, but he hung on, pulling me forward as he went back. I was away from the door now. He tried to get around me to leave and I grabbed him around the waist. As he tried to pry my arms off of him—the both of us were grunting during the struggling now, with me letting out more girly squeals than grunts—we bumped into an end table and my lamp crashed to the floor.
“If you don’t wanna apologize, I’m leaving,” he growled.
He started pushing my face and I bit his finger. His other hand grabbed my hair at the back, and as he yanked and my chin shot up, our momentum was headed toward the couch—him going backwards and me stumbling forward, never letting him go. He tripped over the lamp, falling backwards onto the couch, me falling on top of him.
My face smacked into his in a harsh kiss.
And we didn't stop kissing. Our closeness changed things completely. We were no longer fighting each other. He rolled me over on my back, rising up on his knees to pull his shirt up over his head. Nothing but his dazzling gold chain was left, and a perfect dark brown body of chiseled manliness. I was shimmying my stonewash jeans off when I realized I had already lost one running shoe. We were halfway naked—I only had time to work one arm out of a shirt sleeve before he pulled his dick out and pushed it inside of me with no finesse whatsoever.
I screamed in pain and passion.
As he filled my pussy with never-ending shaft at a death-defying pace, I wrapped my legs around his waist and locked my arms around his neck. He was punishing me.
"I'm sorry!" I shouted.
"You better be," he grunted.
I tried to pull on his neck to get him to come down and kiss me again but he wouldn't budge. He was looking down at me fiercely, but it seemed more like he was looking past me, as if he was thinking about someone else. Did Kirbie turn him down at the studio and now he was taking his anger out on me?
He kept thrusting hard and it felt so good. I wanted to believe this passion was all about me and him and nothing else but I wasn't so sure. Cream poured out of me. It was a lake, soaking my couch cushions. He turned me on my side and bent one of my knees toward my breasts and started giving me another pounding. I was crammed sideways against the arm of the couch. It was uncomfortable. And I know he knew it. He was treating me like a whore.
"I said I was sorry!" I squealed.
"My nigga got shot because of you, bitch!"
"Coras, I didn't tell Milo to shoot anybody."
"I told you not to let nobody in our business. Especially your brother. You knew what the fuck you were doing."
His dick was so hard and forceful that I tried to push on his thigh to prevent him from going so deep, but he kept gushing in and out if me with such boorishness that I was afraid I'd snap my wrist if I kept trying to stop him. It was blissful to have him inside me again, but the way he was fucking me made it hard to enjoy. This was all about him.
This was rage.
I was starting to feel the muscle tightness of a charley horse.
"Coras, just cum in me please. Please, baby? I'm sorry!"
He pulled out. I was afraid to move because I wasn't sure if a cramp would seize me. Gently, I tried to straighten out my leg—and that's when I felt it.
Coras jizzed on me.
"Really, muthafucka?" I snapped. It was running down my stomach.
That was one thing Coras knew not to do to me. I was down for a lot of freaky shit—I'd swallow his cum, let him fuck me in the ass, I was down for bondage—but skeeting on me was disrespectful and he knew how I felt about it. I tried to move but my muscles were nearly paralyzed.
He was pulling his boxers up, tucking his meat in. His pants went on so quick it was like one motion.
"You're leaving, you bastard."
After he put on his shirt, he said, "I just came to let off some frustration."
"Kirbie didn't let you fuck tonight?"
"What makes you think I was with Kirbie?"
I didn't answer him because I didn't want to reveal that I knew his Site password.
"You know what?" he began. "I was with Kirbie. And I did try to fuck and, you're right, she didn't let me. You wanna know why? Because she has a man. I respect her for that. But I don't respect you."
"Coras—"
"Nah, shut the fuck up man. You know what this is. The only reason I been fucking wit' you is because yo brother is my plug."
He said it. He really just said that shit to me. It brought tears to my eyes. I knew that was the only thing holding us together but I never wanted it to be spoken aloud.
"I've always wanted to fuck you like I just did," he went on, looking down at me like I was a one-night stand. "You're a scumbag slut-ass bitch, and you deserve to be mishandled and skeeted on. Take this as my farewell. Because I'm done fucking wit' you. Kirbie is about to catch a plane in the morning to go sign a record deal that's gonna have her set for life. It's only a matter of time before I get on. So I don't need you or your brother no more."
He started walking toward the door.
"Coras!" I yelled.
He didn't stop. So I started to get up off the couch to go for the gun in my purse, but suddenly my hamstring in my right leg contracted violently and I hit the floor with a hard thud. It was a charley horse, the worst ever.
"Coras, help!"
But he was already gone. And I laid on the floor writhing in a pain that was a lot stronger than the one in my leg.
Chapter 17
Kirbie Amor Capelton
"Archie, have you seen my boarding pass?" I asked, as I checked my black Tory Burch satchel again. It was made of pebbled Italian leather and had three zip pockets that I'd searched a thousand times, but I was going through them one more time, pocket by pocket.
"I haven't seen it," Archie replied.
I looked at him with irritation. He was leaning against the dresser in his favorite heather gray sweater. He had his left arm crossed over his chest that was giving support to his right elbow, as he fiddled with a toothpick in his mouth. He saw how scatterbrained I was and he hadn't moved a muscle to assist me.
"Can you help me look, please?" I said.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you don't need to be going nowhere."
I cocked my head at him, trying not to get even more upset that he was acting like this at a very critical time. I had a flight to catch. "Archie, we talked about this already. This is a chance of a lifetime."
"So you say. But you could get off of that plane in New York, get whisked away in a limo and wind up chopped up into little pieces by tomorrow morning."
I didn't have time for this. I started packing more clothes. Sundi Ashworth told me to pack three days' worth of outfits, and from there she'd buy me more clothes to fit the look she and her stylist were going for. My body quivered when she said stylist. It made all of these images pop in my head of being pampered by a fashion designer tape
-measuring my shoulder width, while a make-up artist powder-brushed my cheekbones with mineral foundations.
I was excited and nervous to see how they transformed me. I hoped I didn't have to say no to their "look," whatever that may end up being.
"What am I gonna do with all of this cocaine?" Archie asked. "We made the trip to get the bricks, and now the next day you're bailing on me."
"I'm not bailing on you."
"What do you call it then?"
"Archie, you act like you can't get rid of them yourself for a while. I won't be gone forever."
"How long will you be gone?"
"I don't know."
He repeated my words sorely. "I. Don't. Know ... hmmm ..." Then he said, "What kind of woman wakes her fiancé up in the wee hours of the morning to tell him she's about to catch a plane to the other side of the country? How do you think I feel? We're gonna be married one day, Kirbie. We're supposed to make these decisions as a team."
"This has been my dream since I was a little girl, Archie! My daddy would play Caylene Hope records at breakfast time and I would sing along and imagine myself on stage with her."
"Was this before or after he beat you?"
I just stared at his disrespectful ass as he twiddled his toothpick with his tongue.
"Will you please help me find my boarding pass?" I asked desperately. He didn't move. He just kept clucking his tongue. "Fine, I'll just print off another one. Did you shut the computer off?"
Casually, he leaned off of the dresser and reached behind himself. All of a sudden he had the e-ticket in his hand. It had been in his back pocket this whole time.
I snatched it from him.
***
I drove myself to the airport in my Mercedes because Archie refused to. He said as long as my car was sitting unoccupied in the airport parking lot, then I'd be more inclined to get back to Kansas City as soon as possible.
"You know they steal those airport cars all the time," he had warned me. "Especially the ones that have been sitting for a while."
But I didn't care about his little games. Because if this record deal worked out, I'd be able to afford a hundred new Mercedes.
On the shuttle bus over to my terminal, I got a call from Coras.
"Hello?" I answered.
"How you doing, superstar?"
I blushed. And even though I didn't know any of the people sitting near me, I still put my hand over my widening smile.
"I'm not a superstar yet," I replied into the phone.
"You will be soon enough. Are you nervous?"
"What do you think?"
"I think you're ready."
"What if they end up not signing me?"
"Don't think like that. Positive thinking only, please." Then he said, "Did you talk to Sundi again this morning?"
"Yes. She was just calling to remind me of the time and what she'd be wearing so I won't have a problem spotting her at the airport."
"Did she say where yall would be going first?"
"No. But I assume we'll be headed to Mount Eliyah ENT headquarters to sign the contract. I'm anxious to see what the inside looks like. In the magazines they only show the outside."
"She just might take you to dinner first, get you drunk and try to woo you over. If she does, you better let her woo you."
I laughed. "Damn right," I said. Then my tone took on a bite of worry. "Where are you at?" I asked.
I remembered last night at the studio he told me Ashleigh might not let him back in her house because he walked out on her to come meet me. I knew he wasn't staying with Monifa because he told me he was done with her and Milo and that whole operation. I hoped he wasn't back staying in a hotel. His ass needed to get his own place and stop trying to live under the radar. Successful people had bank accounts and paper trails. All the big rappers did. I told him this all the time but he never took heed, either because I was younger than him or because I was a female. Or both.
Coras said, "What did Archie think of you heading to New York on such short notice?"
He completely dodged my question, I noted. And that was fine. If Coras was still staying with Ashleigh it was none of my business. He wasn't my man. I was just glad I stopped things between me and him last night before we went too far.
"Archie tried to hide my boarding pass this morning," I admitted.
"Figures," Coras said. "That sounds like something he would do. I can't believe you're gonna end up marrying your biggest hater."
"He's not."
"This is your chance to get rid of him. Once you start topping the charts, fake a fallout with him. Tell him things just aren't working out. Kirbie, you know you can't be a celebrity with a husband like Archie," he said, and was actually being serious about it. "Tell me I'm lying."
"You're wrong on so many levels. That type of shadiness is why you're never gonna find happiness, Coras."
"I already found my happiness. But my happiness is giving her happiness to someone else."
There was a short silence after he said that. Then my shuttle bus came to a stop and it was time to unload. I told Coras I had to call him back and he told me to make sure I did before my plane took off. "I got a surprise for you," he said. As I pulled my luggage through the airport and shuffled through the painstakingly tedious security checkpoint, I kept wondering what that surprise was. In my wildest thoughts, I imagined him proposing to me over the phone and ordering me to throw Archie's engagement ring out of the window after the plane took off (not possible, but it was still something Coras would say). I imagined myself answering him with a heartfelt yes.
After I went to the restroom and found an open seat in my departure section of the terminal, they were announcing that it was time to board and began calling out passengers to stand in line according to seating listed on our tickets. I didn't get a chance to call Coras back until after I was on the plane and had stuffed my carry-on in the overhead compartment and plopped down in my window seat.
I buckled my seatbelt and dialed.
"Kirbie, hold on," he answered. Then I didn't hear a thing. I hoped he knew I didn't have a lot of time before the stewardess would start instructing passengers to shut our phones off.
"Hello, Kirbie? Wussup, baby girl!"
"GEE!" I exclaimed. "Oh my God, you're the surprise. Are you okay? How are you doing?"
"I'm fine. But I'd be better if I had something to drink. I told Coras to bring me a bottle of Earl Stevens and all he brought was a get-well card."
"No, Gee. No more drinking. The doctor told us your life is at risk. We're putting you in rehab for real this time. By the time I get back home, you better be admitted."
"Rehab is for quitters. All we do is win."
"Gee, I'm serious. How are you holding up?"
"Pretty good. I should be able to go home in a couple days."
"Coras told me you charged at the guy with the gun at the Sprint Center. What were you thinking?"
"Guns don't kill people. People kill people. And he didn't look like a killer. I was wrong though."
I laughed. Gee had a way of finding humor in any situation. I was glad he was going to be okay. For the next few minutes until the phones-off announcement came, he made jokes about me being too much of a thug to be famous, but he congratulated me and wished me much success. I told him in so many words that no matter how big I got, no matter if I was in the middle of a Grammy speech, I'd drop whatever I was doing and have his back in a heartbeat. Milo's days were numbered.
Me and Gee said goodbye and see you later to each other. I had wanted to tell Coras goodbye but Gee had already hung up.
"Will this be your first time in New York?" my neighbor asked.
I turned to her. She couldn't have been much older than me. Her hair was flipped over one shoulder and there was a white gold fringe drop earring dangling from the lobe closet to me. She was pretty, but her face was so thin it was almost masculine. I assumed she was a fashion model.
"Yes," I answered her. "This'll be my first vis
it to New York."
"Business or pleasure?" she asked.
"Business."
"Really? What field?"
"I'm an aspiring singer," I said.
"Me too!" she squawked, then held out her hand. "Vivian L. Housser."
I shook her hand. "Kirbie Amor."
"Say, Kirbie, maybe we can team up and go at this music thing together. I have a list of record label addresses in my purse."
"Um ... I sort of already have someone picking me up at the airport. Maybe another time."
"Oh. Okay." She blinked at me. Then she grabbed a magazine and left me alone.
I hadn't shut my phone off yet. I took what little time I had left and logged into The Site. I decided to update my status one last time as an unsigned artist.
Kirbie Amor: I'm headed to New York to follow my dreams. To all of the people that wish me well, I need a prayer from you! I think this is my time!
Chapter 18
Kirbie Amor Capelton
I had never been more anxious to get off of a plane in my life. But I had to wait for the rows ahead to clear out first. I was standing up at a sideways tilt, bracing my hand against the back of my seat because it was too cramped to stand perfectly erect.
My thin neighbor, Vivian, was still seated for some reason.
"I like to be the last one off of the plane," she said at me, as she began letting people behind us go ahead of us. "I don't like to feel rushed when I'm getting off. It irritates me."
I nearly grabbed a fistful of her hair and shoved her into the aisle. KC Kirbie would have, but I was now NYC Kirbie so I kept my cool. Instead, I just pushed past her rudely, as I brought my carry-on bag up and over her head—I "accidentally" bumped her head with one of the mini wheels—and mumbled an excuse me on my way down the aisle and off the plane.
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