“You think this good ass pussy is supposed to get you out of anything,” he expressed as he reached in the middle console and pulled out a couple of napkins. He wiped his face with it because he was sweating.
Laughing, I reached over and grabbed my Chanel purse from the backseat of the car. I pulled out some of the feminine wipes and wiped myself off. I wiped between my legs and wiped his dick off, which was soaked in my juices. He assisted me in putting back on my dress, and I got back in my seat. Truth finished getting himself together, and while he did that, I looked over at the beach area. I saw a few figures leaving from the oceanfront, and they were coming our way. Not necessarily to our car, but more than likely to cross the street because a few hotels were on the other side, and they could have possibly been staying there.
I was about to put my seatbelt back on and more than likely fall asleep in the car as Truth drove us to the airport, but who I saw coming from the beach caught my attention. It was my sister’s boyfriend, Chance. Now I knew why he hadn’t been answering the phone for his daughter, Dream, or for my sister. His bitch ass had changed his fuckin’ phone number. He not only changed his number, but the fuck nigga had moved too.
Dream hadn’t seen her daddy in months, and that little girl was hurting behind that shit. She had lost one parent temporarily to the prison system, and now the other parent just acted like he wanted nothing to do with her. That shit was just so fuckin’ weird. Although I had my issues with Chance because I blamed him for my sister’s situation, I still considered him to be a stand-up father to Dream.
These days, it was as if he had given up on her altogether. He used to send money for her to my Zelle account to help out with clothes, shoes, hair, or whatever she needed. Fuck nigga probably didn’t even have a damn clue that once summer break was over, I was taking Dream with me to Cali. I had the talk with Dream a couple of months ago, letting her know that we would be moving. Surprisingly, she was fine with the news. She did have one little request, and that was to stay in Miami for her summer break at my mama’s house. That way, she could still go to her same summer camp from last year, plus she wanted to continue to be around her cousins.
I found myself shaking my head in disgust as I watched Chance walk with a woman and two little boys. One looked to have been Dream’s age, and the other one looked a couple of years younger. Those little boys looked just like Dream, but just in a boy version, so I knew for a fact that these had to be his kids. Kids I didn’t even know about, and I knew damn well my sister didn’t know about them either.
I remember my sister calling me the day after Valentine’s day, and she was going on and on about how Chance hadn’t picked up the phone for her on Valentine’s day, and she kept saying she felt like he was fuckin’ around with someone, and from the looks of things, my sister was right. Since Loyal wasn’t there to check the fuck nigga, I would do the shit on her behalf.
“What you doing? Who is that?” Truth asked me.
“That’s Dream’s dad. I want to find out where the fuck this nigga been and why he ain’t been answering the phone for my sister and for his daughter,” I told Truth; I was going to do the shit whether he agreed with it or not.
Truth always said that because he was in the public eye, we had to move differently. All it took was a second for a fan or someone to be standing by and see him doing wrong. They’d pull their phones out in a second to record the scandal, and he’d be in the blogs within two hours. Trust me, I thought about that, but I also thought about my sister, who was in a prison cell, still loving this nigga, so I wanted to say something on her behalf.
“Aight. Come on,” he said.
I knew he only agreed because he knew I would get out, with or without him. Truth got out first, and I followed him. Chance looked right at me, and the nigga tried to walk around and act like he didn’t even see me standing there.
“Nigga, you see me!” I spat, making him and everyone he was with freeze in place, even the damn kids.
The woman who he was with… I mean, she was pretty, but she wasn’t my sister. I watched as Chance put his hands out and made both of his children stand behind them. Before he did that, I took a good look at both of his children, and sure enough, those two boys and Dream could be triplets.
“What’s good, Twinkle?” he asked and scratched his head. You know… the ultimate fuck boy move.
“Who is this bitch, Chance? You being very cordial with this hoe! Addressing her by her name and shit, like you don’t see me standing here,” the woman spat.
I laughed, knowing that if I wanted to, I could knock her ass out right in front of her kids.
“Calm down, shorty. Don’t nobody want this bum ass nigga but you! Even if he wasn’t my sister’s baby daddy, I wouldn’t even look his way. This isn’t a conversation that I’m trying to have with you, but if you have some legit answers for me, then feel free to jump in at any time. Chance, I could give a fuck who you are out here trolling around with. Truthfully, all I needed was for my sister to have a reason to leave your black ass alone, so she could find some peace in her fuckin’ life, given her fucked up circumstances. All I want to know is why did you change your phone number on your daughter? Before you changed it, she was calling you damn near every day, and you were ignoring all her phone calls. It’s one thing for you to do that to my sister because, hell, I don’t expect anything less from a fuck nigga, but to do that shit to your daughter, that’s a different kind of low. Who are these little boys? Are these your kids?” I asked.
Chance released a sigh and then cleared his throat. The woman he was with sucked her teeth, prepared to speak up on his behalf.
“These are his kids. Our oldest one here is Chance Jr, and our baby is Chad—”
“How old is Chance Jr?” I asked, cutting her off.
“Five,” she responded.
“Wowwww, which means that you were fuckin’ her and my sister at the same time because Dream is five too. Niggas,” I said, mumbling the last part as I thought about how the same shit that was done to me had been done to my sister as well. I knew we were sisters, but damn, why did we have to endure the same type of pain?
“I never knew shit about your sister until my water broke, and I found out from him that Dream was born a week before my son. This nigga didn’t tell me that until I brought my son into this world. His timing was off. I get that you want to come over here and check some shit about your sister, but I didn’t know shit about her until I already had this nigga’s baby. He didn’t say shit to me about having a bitch!” she spat, but I didn’t believe her. I never believed the side chicks.
“How the fuck could you not have known that he had a woman? For goodness sake, he was living with my sister. The two of them were all in the fuckin’ open with their relationship! Everybody knew they were together, and if you from Miami, then you know that the shit wasn’t a secret. You can’t possibly tell me that you don’t know who Loyal is. Every bitch in Miami knows my sister, and everybody knows what she is in prison for,” I said, and the woman didn’t say shit.
She knew she couldn’t say shit because I could read right through her and tell that she was lying. I swear, I didn’t understand bitches. Bitches will fuck behind a woman like it’s nothing. When it comes to sex, I’m so fuckin’ selfish. The way I just let my man raw me in his car, without asking a question, I’m able to do that because I know that that’s my dick and my dick only. I would never want to slide down on a dick that I know another bitch is getting when I’m not around. To know that this man was in a relationship with a woman who he wasn’t keeping a secret or hidden, and to still fuck him like it was nothing just showed me how dirty bitches could be.
“My point exactly. I just want to hear from you why you have been ignoring your daughter?” I asked Chance.
“I know this shit sounds foolish, but I ain’t want the truth to get back to Loyal and—”
The woman sucked her teeth loudly, grabbed her sons’ hands, and walked away with them. From her wal
k alone, I could see how pissed off she was. She crossed the street, and once she was out of sight and out of mind, Chance looked back over at me.
“Didn’t want what to get back to Loyal?” I asked him because I didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.
“This ain’t how I wanted Loyal to find out about my sons. I know that prison shit is hard on her, and I didn’t want to put more hurt on her, so I was going to wait to tell her about my kids when she got out. Dream is getting to that age now, where she be all in yo’ business and shit. She be listening to a nigga’s conversations, and she rides for her mama, so I knew the second she saw a nigga fuckin’ up, she was going to either go back and tell the shit to you or tell it to her mama. I wasn’t ready to tell my daughter about her brothers yet, so I did what most niggas do when they back be against the wall, and I just fell back—”
“And the bitch that just left, she’s okay with you basically saying fuck the obligations that you have when it comes to your daughter?” I asked, just to be sure.
“I mean, she ain’t jumping down my back, telling me that I need to pick up the phone for Dream or ride around there and pick her up,” he said.
“Of course, she ain’t! The less time that gets spent with Dream equals more time spent with her sons! Niggas lie so bad that I don’t even think y’all know when y’all fuckin’ lying! How the fuck you didn’t want to tell my sister about your son, when that little boy is five, just like Dream! Loyal just went in a year ago, meaning that you had four fuckin’ years to tell her that shit! Four, nigga! Yo, I wouldn’t be fuckin’ surprised if you ratted on my sister and had her sent to prison, so you could get her off your back once shit finally hit the fan for you! I always questioned why only Loyal went down for that fraud shit when you were doing that shit right along with her. You were more into that shit because you taught her a lot of shit that she didn’t even know—”
“Man, I know a nigga may be dirty, but I ain’t that fuckin’ dirty to the point where I would send my bitch to prison! Loyal is locked up because she started moving reckless with her shit. I cleaned up my dirt a little bit better than she did, and—”
“And as a nigga, you was supposed to help clean up her dirt too. Get the spots that she might have missed!” Truth spoke up after being quiet this whole time.
He moved me out of the way, making me get behind him. I knew it would only be a matter of time before he said something. He was just allowing me some time to blow off some steam because he knew how I was coming when it came to my sister. I loved Loyal more than anything. I still go through my little moments when I broke down crying because I wanted her home. I wanted her to be with her daughter because I knew how much Dream meant to her. I was planning my wedding, and I was pregnant again, with my fingers crossed that this pregnancy would be a success. It would mean the world to me for my sister to have been there with me, celebrating these moments. My sister would have been working alongside me in my boutiques and coming up with some bomb ass ideas. She had a fashion sense that was better than anyone I knew.
“First of all, if you love your shorty like you say you do, you were never supposed to put her in a situation where she was playing Russian Roulette with her freedom anyway. Ain’t no way in hell I would be okay with my woman out here scamming, especially if that same woman was the mother of my daughter. Just be a man about your shit and say that you was fuckin’ around, and you got caught the fuck up. Even if you got caught up, that shit don’t have anything to do with you being there for your daughter. All these dead beats the world already got, and you jump on that bandwagon, for what? So Loyal’s feelings don’t get hurt? That’s bullshit, and you know it. Don’t worry about it, though. Dream gon’ be straight. I got her,” Truth told him.
Dream adored Truth. I think a big part of the reason she didn’t mind that we were moving to Cali is that she knew she would get to spend time with Truth, plus she could go to the basketball games, which she loved.
“The next time Dream asks about you, I’ll just let her know that you’re dead. Take care,” I said and then headed back to the car.
The fact that this nigga didn’t even try to run after me, interject, and fight for his daughter, just let me know right then and there that this nigga wasn’t shit. He would much rather put this new bitch’s feelings on a pedestal and the sons that he had with her than to think about my sister and their beautiful daughter. I still felt like there were missing pieces to this story, that I would probably never know about because I would never give this nigga any more conversation, and I was going to make sure I kept Dream from around his ass.
Maybe in the future, when she was older and mature enough to make a decision on whether she wanted a relationship with her father, then that would be her decision to make, but in the meantime, I wasn’t about to expose her to somebody who was going to be half loving her, so he could appease his bitch. The fucked-up part about all this was when I would have to tell this shit to my sister. Not only was this bitch showboating around with a new bitch, but I left out the part about me seeing rings of both of their fingers, and they had two children together.
Now, I don’t want to body shame, but I don’t know if sis was working with leftover baby weight around her stomach area, or if she was pregnant again by Chance. Whew! The mess.
“Congrats again on another successful closing. I just need you to sign right here on this last page, and that’ll be it,” one of the owners of the lending company that I worked with said.
There was a big ass smile on my face as I signed my last signature on the dotted line, to the point that my damn cheeks were hurting. Not to brag or no shit like that, but I had been killing this house flipping game. I remember the day after my welcome home party when I sat down with a bunch of people who were already in this business. They explained how the shit worked, and it just sounded like a bunch of gibberish to me. Then they talked about how much money could go into renovations, but what really had me second-guessing the shit is when they talked about spending thousands of dollars on renovations, only for the house to possibly not sell at the price I wanted it to, or not sell at all. I was looking at it in the sense of me losing money instead of gaining.
To a street nigga like me, that was equivalent to cops running in a trap house and confiscating all the money and the work. Every street nigga knew that without some money or work, it’s hard to eat. For me, eating was the goal. I had a lifestyle that I was used to living before I was sent to prison, and I wanted to come home and still be able to afford that lifestyle but to just switch up my occupation.
If I hadn’t jumped on this business venture, I knew that my only option was for me to take my ass back out into the streets. For so long, that was all a nigga really knew. Although it was an option, I didn’t want to revert to that shit because I had two kids, my parents, my grandmother, and now my wife, who I needed to be here for. I couldn’t make reckless, selfish ass decisions like that.
It took me some time to figure out how to get in this business and actually run it in a way that I was making more money than I was spending, but I felt like I had it now. I knew the different avenues to take, and that way, I kept my pockets heavy. I said this before, and I’ll say it again, a lot of the money came from houses that had undergone a foreclosure. Yeah, you’re going to more than likely spend a lot of money flipping a house that was foreclosed because many times, the house needed a lot of repairs, but once you handled that hard part, people flocked to these newly renovated foreclosed homes because, in the end, it becomes damn near a brand new home. It also depended on the area the home was located in. Right now, it was summer break; the kids were out of school, so this was the perfect time for parents to look into moving. Business was definitely booming.
I just couldn’t believe that this was the life I was living right now. Even when I was told that I needed to dress a little different, cover up my tattoos, pick my jeans up, and take my golds out of my mouth because it could affect me in this business, I still didn’t chang
e shit about me, and right now, I was signing my name on a million-dollar home that I’d been working on now for just a few short months because the house didn’t need that much help. I had this fat ass check sitting to the right of me, that I couldn’t wait to deposit into my account.
To celebrate this shit, I wanted to take my wife and my kids out tonight for dinner because this was big. This was the biggest home that I’d flipped since I’d been doing this, so I deserved a lobster and steak dinner tonight and some bomb ass, nasty ass sex from my wife.
“Mr. Pride would be so proud of you, Billionaire. I have to admit that I thought he was making a big mistake when he passed down his business to you. I was friends with him before he was sent to prison, so I personally know how hard he worked to get his business and to keep it afloat. I had my fears that you would run it into the ground, but you’re doing great. Don’t tell him I told you this, but you run it ten times better than he ever could,” Lenny, one of the realtors who had been sticking by me for months said, as I stood up.
He extended his hand for me to shake, and I did just that. I wasn’t shocked that Lenny had second thoughts about me because when I first met him, he was one of the people who told me that I needed to switch up my attire. I was glad that I could prove him and everybody else wrong who had doubted a nigga.
“Thank you, man. I appreciate that. That shit really means a lot to me, coming from you,” I told him.
We shook it up, and I lingered in the office for a few moments more before I walked out of the building, holding onto this check that was in my hands pretty damn tight. A nigga was so fuckin’ happy that I could’ve skipped to the damn car. I had a little time on my hands before I had to pick my son up from football camp, and Khari was at my mother’s house, so I decided to do a pop up on Denim. It had been a few days since I walked in on Denim and my wife arguing on the phone, and although I said that I would handle it, I had been so wrapped up in handling business that I just ain’t have the time. Not to mention, I was actually dreading this conversation.
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