“You sure it wasn't Ganza?” My eyes burn, but I try not to cry.
“Yup,” Vido says.
Finally, my wife steps into the room, with her hair damp. “Gimme a back rub,” I order. Fuck, this is all bad. I need a line of coke. Funny thing is, I should’ve been dead after that beating. But my body was so high, it fucking forgot to bleed.
Chapter 24
BLU
I can’t believe Lorenzo found me and dropped me of at our mom’s place. This bitch is on an intervention tip. Had me almost willing to offer to go back to rehab. Everyday my younger sisters come in, taking turns fucking with me. Even the little hoochie one, Toi.
“Bitch, go suck off one of the nigga’s at your middle school bathroom and get up out my face,” I snap at Toi, while reclining on the top porch steps.
“One, I’m in high school already, Blu, two that’s just ugh…” Toi says. She pops her gum, with a curled upper lip as she comes to sit on the porch steps in front and below of me. “I just wanted to talk.”
“Damn, you coulda fooled me, with all your ass cheeks out. Where’s Lorenzo? I know you don’t dress like that with him around.”
“Damn right, but anyway he doesn’t come around much,” she says, pulling her knees to her chest. “Blu, you my sis. Can’t we just talk?”
I give her the stink face.
“See I’m not Lakitha,” she says about our other sister, “Or baby Lorenza so I’m not with the bullshit. I won’t have you cussing me–”
“Bitch up out my face!” I wave her off, feeling like I’m freezing but the sun is out.
“Oh, forgive me for giving a fuck. Lemme just ask one question then I’ll go.”
A long sigh fills my lungs and I shrug.
“Why don’t you ever ask about Popeye and Phillip Junior?”
Toi’s words bring tears to my eyes. I never think about them. Never…
~~~
After the drive by, the hard labor, and Popeye coming home in a wheelchair, I had to deal with a colicky baby. My husband’s usual happy demeanor was hard, and not in a good way. I could tell that his not being the breadwinner was eating him alive. Rocky was ghost, ever since not coming to the baby shower. Elisha was depressed about Tee Tee being gone. Lorenzo would send home money by the caseloads, but that was just the thing. I had nobody. Granny tried to help as much as she could. Moms came around every day. She had me almost saying fuck the Columbiana way, with all that help cooking and cleaning. She just wanted to take over and make sure I took care of home.
I remember this one time. I had been in the bedroom crying after Popeye learned that I was in therapy and forbade me to go. Trinidad came by with a gift bag full of yummy lotions and soaps just for me. I hadn’t had a gift in almost a year. She even gave me this fat ass blunt and told me nobody else could touch it. We had never been that good, but Trinidad just being there was like “back in the day” for a minute.
Anyway, by the time Phillip Junior was almost one, I was sampling meth, coke, crack. Lemme stop because this shit can turn into a rap. Man, I did it all. Popeye had gone from a wheelchair to a cane, but I was already secretly lost to the drugs. My habit was increasing on a daily. There was no turning back.
A few times, I’d even go to the trap house, but Chuey, Nelly, or one of my cousins was around so I said fuck that. My cousins would fucking slit my throat before seeing me become a basehead. And then I met this nigga Black.
Black didn’t mean shit to me, but the nigga was freaky. The more I needed the crackpipe, the more he threw his own pipe. Nah, I hadn’t fucked. But he had creepy ways of getting me high. I was in the living room of my home. Granny had gone to a church function and Popeye had taken our toddler, Phillip to the park across the street.
So Black had put the line of coke on his rock hard dick and that was the only way I could get it from him. Phillip was one year’s old when Popeye came into the house with him and saw me with Black. He dropped my child's han.,His cane hit the floor. Popeye shook his head at me. “So you that type ma, HUH? You that type of bitc?. You know how I always felt about my moms and shit. And you that type of muthafuckin' bitch, man! I married a fucking crackhead.”
Black yanked up his pants, the white powder went falling. He had on a black hoodie that blended in with his face so I don't even think Popeye knew that he knew this nigga. Anyway, Black ass took off through the back, out the kitchen door without a word.
Popeye pulled a burner from his jean waistband. Jr started running toward me.
BACA. BACA. BACA. A shot went through the kitchen window, as Popeye ran out the back door after Black. Blood was smeared on the brick wall behind the house, but I don’t know how good he got Black, because the muthafucka had already hit the other side.
I was so ashamed as Jr. clung to me. The drugs calling me so hard that it wasn’t till this moment that I even thought about how I hurt my husband or my child. This shit had never been about sex. Truthfully, I hadn’t even fucked around but that creepy ass nigga Black wanted me to snort it off of him.
Popeye came back, rubbing his face. “We done.”
“Bu… but–”
“We through.” He snatched Phillip Jr. from my arms.
“I can't Popeye. I love you! I don't feel shit for that nigga. I just wanted…”
“To fucking suck on his dick!”
“Nah! I hadn’t even done all that,” I told him truthfully, but he began to snatch my ponytail up and drag me to the door. Phillip Jr. was crying crocodile tears that broke my heart as Popeye held him in his arms and pushed me out the house.
I almost fell of the porch. “… Popeye listen. For the past months it’s been so hard to be with you–”
“Bitch did you just come out of left field with that shit?” His hand comes up, “I should slap the stupid off ya face. Nah, I'm good. You just lost your best.”
My heart breaks thinking about Popeye and Phillip Junior. Moms asked me a few days back to see them. Now, Toi just brought them up. But how could I? How could I see them after what I’ve done to fuck shit up. I ruined our family. Why did Lorenzo have to find me?
Chapter 25
ROCKWELL
“Thank God for you, Boss Lady,” Paula says, giving me a hug so hard we almost tip over in our six inch heels. She grabs the caramel macchiato and guzzles it down as I hand cups to the rest of my five staff of workers. I can always rely on my girl, Paula, for the dramatics. And I can rely on her to keep shit running when I’m away.
Paula begins to show me the setup of the new window displays. While she’s scrolling through an iPad with digital designs for the new season, a woman with dyed blond hair, dark brown skin, and the baddest Dior pant suit steps into the building. She claims attention with sunglasses that are on the newest A Game Magazine. She never rocked hats before but is killing it with one slung low today.
“Justine!” I get excited as we hug. She grimaces. I ask, “What happened to your face?”
“Fender bender.”
Paula rolls her eyes, and I can just imagine her calling Justine a boujie bitch. We chat for a while. Even go to the nail salon. I think to have Lakitha meet us up here, maybe even bring Blu so we can all chill, but I feel like Justine has something to tell me as we sit in the pedicure spa. Then when my Porsche pulls into the mall, right outside of Rock With It, Justine asks to go over my financial books.
“I thought we did that this month already?” I ask as we start up the cobble stone pathway.
“Yes,” she smiles, “I think there are a few expenses that you might want to consider cutting down on.”
“Well, all right. Now you know I can't afford to be paying you twice.” I chuckle, as we step inside the store. It’s right before lunch, and it hasn’t yet gotten active. “Paula can you go to the back and get the financial files.”
Justine starts looking at her watch. “You know what, how about you just let me take them with me? I have an… appointment to get to. And this will be just me looking out for a sistah.”
<
br /> Paula side eyes her while giving up the forms. Soon as Justine leaves we go to the back.
I shake my head, “Girl, you are too much.”
“Nah, Justine is. Don't talk hood unless you around and the bitch can’t even do that right. Came in the other day looking all funky with her nose in the air and was talking to the cash register like she has a French accent.”
“Okay Paula. A bunch of chicks come in here with split personality, based on every third nigga they bring in.”
“But I don't trust her. Did you know Justine has broken up many a happy home too? Coming in here with married men left to right, buying her stuff.”
“No, I didn't know but money is money.”
“Keep her sadity ass away from Raphael.”
“They only met once. Besides, although my husband obviously swirls I think he's got a thing for fake boobs and blonds.” I bust up laughing, as Paula looks at my titties. “Uhn-uhn, trick these dubs are real!”
“Okay girl keep telling yaself that,” she laughs as I punch her arm.
“Paula did I tell you, me and Elisha good again.”
She sighs “Uh, yeah booboo. I'm so glad too. Every time she had a function I was wanting to tell you all the nasty ass details about all the fun I had.”
“Nobody wanna know what dude you’re screwing at any given party.” I huff, getting to what I want to know. “Paula, what you think of her and Nacho. I know ain't nobody finna be like Tee Tee–”
“Nah chick. No nigga is as good as my big brother, Tee Tee. Not now, not ever but Nacho is just a little something, something for her to do till she get back in the game for real.”
I don't want to mention Tee Tee has been gone for over three years. Paula is his blood, but Elisha shoulda moved on by now. Paula asks why I'm interested in Nacho, adding, “See I also know that somebody is fucking with Lorenzo sexy ass again. So Rockwell, what you got the 21 questions for a nonfactor like Nacho?”
“He just gives me a bad vibe when he comes over to Lorenzo’s.”
“Fuck that nigga. Anyway, trick, you and Elisha was so damn close I thought y'all was homo all the way back in middle school!” She laughs her ass off. “Girl, when Day came home telling me he was talking to Elisha in the 9th grade I’m like hell to the nah, she already got yo’ ass.”
“Don’t go there,” I shake my head with a laugh.
Paula sips the coffee. “Anyway, girl. When Elisha finds the right dude, I'm sure you gon’ have them 21 questions on deck ready to go in. And she’s like a big sister to me now so I’ma roll through when you do.”
“Believe that.” We slap hands. “Paula, I cannot believe me and Elisha have been off so long but while I'm around, a nigga ain't gonna trip on my girl.”
“That's what's up.”
“Now getcho ass back to work,” I boss. Paula flips me the bird and steps out my office.
I look at the original financial forms Paula had just given Justine a copy of. I know my business could do better. It ain’t what I wanted. There’s nothing like designing my own shit, but I think I’m doing good. My bruised ego is okay for a second when I pick out fashion items that my customers would like. Now I used to help Uncle Marcel with gun deals and making bang for his buck, so I got some hood business planning under my belt. Yet glancing at the papers, I don’t have the slightest idea where Justine plan to snip costs…
~~~
Before I go get Junior from school, I find myself in The H. Okay so it ain't a quick drive, but damn. Maybe, if I just stop by to say ‘hi...’
When I get there, Nelly is posted outside. I'm tempted to ask if this is a trap house, but nah Lorenzo ain't that type of dude. He sure as hell wouldn’t be slanging drugs and Blu got issues. Besides, he had me and our son staying here.
“Sup sexy,” Nelly nods his head to me. He’s buff, short, and a sexy dark chocolate.
“That fool here?”
“Yup. But he's busy.”
“Okay...” I continue to walk past Nelly. So, I step inside. The house is all fresh and so clean. There are moans coming from the den so I head upstairs. If one of his goons are fucking, I don't need to see that. But Lorenzo’s room and all the rest of the upstairs is empty. After looking around, I go to the den.
Then I see Lorenzo and that Latina girl with the super long hair; Elisha told me the other night this bitch name was Trini more like a Tranny – transvestite! Nah, I ain't jealous. Before I can walk out, I notice the tramp stamp on her back… Very familiar. It takes me back to Remy Fashion Institute. I used to chill at Lorenzo’s crib and look through his tattoo book. Seen this girl before. And I know that my nigga gave her that tat! My issue is that this bitch has a history with my man!
I start clapping. “Ain't that sexy! Papi working out all those kinks!”
She looks at me; mouth shaped in a happy little fuck face. He shoves her off.
“Lorenzo, doesn’t look like you finished.” I peep the hammer, and that shit is packing weight. “My bad. Enjoy your slut.”
Why am I here? I head toward the door as he calls, “Aye Rocky.’
“Toodles bitches.” I wave over my shoulder. Trinidad smiles, enjoying every second of this shit, and I’m not finna be her entertainment for a second longer.
“Nah, girl get ya ass over here.” He pulls up his pants and yanks me against the wall. “Stop with the muthafucking attitude.”
“What's up? Nah, I ain't mad dude. But if my Chanel blouse gets a wrinkle, bet yo’ ass I’m going off! Lemme go.”
“C’mon, Rocky, you the one popping up.”
“Do you, boo. I’ma prolly go do my physical trainer.” I smirk, thinking about Ashley.
“Nah, you ain't fucking nobody but me!”
“The hell I ain't. Any way you lose, because you can't make a hoe a housewife.” I cheese at this hoe as she slinks by. Now maybe I'll feel stupid later for saying that because I'm married and hoeing around. But right now, I’m on one! “Nasty sour pussy having ass bitch! Don’t even fuckin’ look at me!” I scream, now Lorenzo is holding me back from her.
Trinidad stops and stands there, looking like that actress from that Columbiana movie. Don’t give a damn if this bitch can fight, I can pick up a gun and blast one to her heart.
Lorenzo stops wrestling with me, to give a look and I want to kill her even more because she’s so compliant. How long has he known Trinidad? How they got eye signals and shit. Trinidad slams the front door on her way out.
My heart is pumping, and I’m posted against the wall, with my wrists above my head. “Owww, Lorenzo, lemme go!”
“Mannn, I ain't hurting you.”
“Just like you hurt my momma the other day? Anyway, gon’ call your hoe back,” I taunt, tryna see how he feels for Trinidad. Trying to hurt him as badly as my heart hurts. “That cross eyed bitch looks like she expects you to care. I'm on my way to the gym to get worked the fuck out.”
“Think I was playing? Think this a game?” he says some shit in Spanish. I used to know what some of it meant because we was always pissing each other off while going through puberty. But now I just roll my eyes and pretend to yawn.
“Whateva, I can’t understand your ass! Understand this Renz, I'm fixing to go do some wild acrobatic type–”
He grabs under my armpits and lifts me to eye level. Lorenzo’s voice is so low, it’s damn near deadly as he says, “Keep talkin’ that shit and you ain’t going no-muthafuckin’-place. I'll take you so far away from here your scary ass won’t know how the fuck to get back. Understand?”
Okay, I’m scared. He looks for real. I quietly asking, “What about Junior?”
“I'll have someone send for him after the DNA papers come back.”
“And if you 99.999% ain't the daddy,” I mock.
“You want me to be.”
My guilty eyes turn away from him. “Put me down! Aye, Chuey, Nelly…” I call out to them as they come inside.
“Hey, them look like love taps,” Chuey shrugs. They snicker and head to t
he kitchen.
Lorenzo tries to kiss me and I turn my head. “Ughhh, you fucked that dirty bitch. At least go wash and brush ya teeth.”
… Here we go again, I’m dumb in love with this dude.
Chapter 30
RAPHAEL
Salvatore Ganza has been asking for his money. Seven hundred thousand in gambling debt and coke he was nice enough to pick it up so Mom wouldn't find out. I know that son of a bitch, just needed leverage because I kept telling him I would tell my dad about their affair. Sal and Tamm’s loyalty to each other runs deep, but money is money. They knew each other when my mom was a kid, and he was an old ass fuck back in Italy. And now I know that I’m not in the clear for this stupid carjacking. The deadline is coming up.
Damn, I wish I could talk to my wife about it. Every year we get further and further apart. Balling up my fist, I wonder where Rocky is at even now. I miss my wife. Though I haven’t been on a business trip in a while, since getting out of the hospital, Rockwell has been distant. It’s understandable. I’ll have to buy her something pretty to make up for cheating, once I can get the fuck up and go!
Fuck it, maybe I even miss that little bastard too. It's hard to love Junior because every time I lay eyes on him I see him as my inheritance. Don't get me wrong, I had my doubts from the beginning. Rocky has always ran hot and cold for me. She's the best fuck I've ever had... if she wants to fuck. The head. The making love. She's so fucking beautiful. That one day when I had gotten so tired of her being sad about Thomas, she'd just been comforting herself through our son and that fucking dog. That day, she told me whenever the sex was good between us, it was because she was thinking of him. She never flat out said Junior’s father. The bitch has always claimed Junior is mine. But I beat her to within an inch of her life. I probably would have killed Rockwell if I hadn't taken out the dog first. But I love her so much. I try to love Junior for her. But each time I lay eyes on Raphael Junior these days, he just looks like an asset. He's the son any Italian guy like me would need in order not to be disinherited.
Loving a Colombian Cartel Thug Page 12
