by Nique Luarks
The Gangster That Stole My Heart
Nique Luarks
Jessica Watkins Presents
Copyright © 2019 by Nique Luarks
Published by Jessica Watkins Presents
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Without limiting the right under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form by means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. If I was your best friend…
2. Friends keep secrets
3. Sometimes it’s better to lie
4. Now what?
5. Took my peace of mind…
6. Don’t change
7. I got you
8. Let downs and setbacks
9. Afraid to fall in love
10. We need love to relieve pain
11. You see right through me
12. Karma
13. If you love me, say it
14. Missing you…
15. Unexpected
16. Baby blues…
17. Yes, I’m a mess, but I’m blessed to be stuck with you
18. Nothing lasts forever
19. Lost in emotions
20. Thought I knew you…
JWP
1
If I was your best friend…
Chance
“Give me a baby, please,” I begged in a low, desperate tone. “Please?”
“You know I can’t do that.” True crossed his broad, tatted arms over his muscular frame.
“True, c’mon. You promised.” Leaning against the marble kitchen counter, I sighed. He had. True promised he’d give me a baby if by the time I turned thirty-two, I hadn’t stupidly fallen in love. The only thing about that was I wasn’t quite thirty-two.
“Man, I thought you was playin’.” He chuckled, opening the refrigerator and pulling out a bottle of water. I watched him quickly unscrew the plastic cap and down half the bottle in just three gulps.
“Why can’t you do this for me?”
“’Cause, you know we don’t rock like that, Chance.”
“I’m not asking you to marry me. I just want your baby.”
He shook his head no as he finished off the rest of his water.
“Why?” I sat my phone on the countertop, placed both palms on the edge, and hopped up on the countertop. Swinging my red Chucks back and forth, I waited eagerly on his answer.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he swaggered coolly to a stylish trashcan, pressed a button on it, and threw the bottle away. He turned the red Tommy Hilfiger dad hat on his head backwards, faced me, and looked me over slowly. His slanted eyes were hooded by curly, jet black eyelashes that I always told him he didn’t appreciate. I paid good money for my lashes to look the way they did and his was effortlessly flawless. He didn’t deserve them.
“Why, True?” I asked again. “Because of her?” Rolling my eyes, I went for my phone.
“Nah, because you my best friend, Chance.” His eyebrows damn near touched as he chastised me with his eyes.
“That makes it even better,” I mumbled, resting my thumb in the small circle at the bottom of my phone. The screen lit up as I browsed to my text messages.
True wasn’t my man and we’d never been together sexually. Our relationship had always been and will always be strictly platonic. We were way too much alike and we knew way too much about one another. I’d known him since I was ten and we’d never crossed that line.
“You’re twenty-seven. What you want a baby for?” He sighed, shaking his head.
“Because I’m getting old, True. I don’t want to have kids in my thirties.”
“Since when?” His left eyebrow rose in interest.
“Since a couple weeks ago,” I answered honestly.
“’Cause last time I checked, running your business was all you were worried about right now.” He stared at me. “I thought you were in the middle of opening a new shop and renovating the old one?”
“I am.”
“On top of all that, you’re moving into a new condo. Which...” He licked his plump lips. “You’re making me hire a damn contractor to knock a fuckin’ wall out.”
“Okay?”
“Okay?” Placing his elbows on the island, he then rested comfortably on his forearms. “All the shit on your to-do list takes time. You’re already booked for the next year or so. Why would you wanna bring a baby in and make shit harder?”
I frowned. “It’s not like I’m asking you to make the baby call you Daddy. You don’t even have to be a part of his or her life. I won’t even ask you for help.”
If looks could kill… True was known for his rough appearance, but the mugs he gave were pure evil. Growing up, I used to always tell him he could look at everybody else like that, but not me. I wasn’t scared of anything or anybody, but God and embarrassingly, True. I’d seen him tear an entire block down by himself. Go to war with a gang of people all by himself and come out on top.
“You think I’d give you a baby and burn out on you? C’mon, Chance, don’t try to play me.”
This was how an argument always started with us. He’d take something I had said out of context, and in return, I’d catch an attitude. We’d argue. Well, I’d argue and then I would storm out and ignore him until he came apologizing with a Mucho Mango from Freezing Moo.
“Play you?” I jumped down in annoyance. “I’m asking you to help me. Would you rather me ask a stranger?”
“Jelly…” His voice softened when he called me that. It was a nickname he’d given me when we were growing up because of how chunky I was. Thank God for the gym and puberty. It was also a nickname he used whenever he was trying to shut me down. “A baby should be the last thing on your mind.”
“True, who are you to tell me when I should be ready for kids?” Yeah, I had a lot on my plate right now, but it wasn’t anything I didn’t have under control. I wanted kids. It wasn’t like I couldn’t afford them. And it wasn’t like I didn’t have maternal instincts. I’d practically raised both of his kids.
“I’m not fuckin’ you and knocking you up, Chance,” he finalized, going into his pocket for his ringing phone.
“We don’t have to have sex,” I pressed, irritated. I didn’t want True touching me in that way anyway.
“No.” He put the cell phone to his ear. “Yeah?”
“True...please?” I inched towards him.
My baby had to be by True for three reasons. First off, True was one of the finest men I’d ever laid eyes on. Call me shallow all you want, but I knew we’d make a beautiful baby. Even when we were growing up, older women used to give him money while he was out hugging the block. He’d keep the money from hustling all day and give me the money he’d get from them.
Two, I didn’t have anybody else to do this for me. I wasn’t seeing anyone exclusively and I didn’t have another male friend I trusted as much as him. Three, he’d promised. True swore when we were nineteen he’d do this for me.
“Hold up, Nisha. No, Jelly. Focus on your business and worry about a baby later, man.”
“True, I really want this. We don’t have to have sex. You don’t have to do nothing but make sure you come to the appointments, and I’ll set all those u
p for you.” Picking up my purse, I sighed impatiently. Why was he making this harder than it needed to be?
Just give me your sperm. Damn.
“No.”
“You know what?” I officially had an attitude. “I won’t ask you for nothing else.” I started angrily for the front of his home.
“So, you mad?” He followed me.
Hell yeah! “Nope.”
“I’ll be by the shop tomorrow around ten to make sure them niggas ain’t half assing shit.”
“All right.” I opened the front door and stepped onto the porch.
True held the door as he watched me to my car. “If you wanna link up later and hit the block up, I’ll come scoop you,” he called out with his phone to his ear.
I rolled my eyes as I approached my driver’s side and hit the unlock button on the key fob. “Okay,” I damn near pouted as I hopped inside and shut the door. After starting my car, I backed out of his driveway.
When I was halfway down the street, I realized True was probably right. I’d gotten baby fever from all of the women surrounding me. Morgan had a son, Erin had her ladybugs and one due soon, and Rajon was practically Ava’s kid. Stopping at a red light, I turned the volume up and grabbed my sunglasses from the middle console. I put them on as my text alert went off.
Retrieving my phone, I shifted my eyes back and forth between it and the road.
Haze: I miss you
True
Shaking my head at Chance, I gave my attention back to my phone. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to see if you were getting out tonight. Who was that? Chance?”
“Yeah.”
“Why is she always whining and pouting?” Nisha sucked her teeth. “She needs some dick.” She chuckled and then I heard a few giggles in the background.
“You got me on speaker?” I reached for the remote and got comfortable in my seat.
“Yeah. My phone is dying and I don’t wanna take it off the charger.”
“Then call me back.” I got ready to hang up.
“Wait. I can plug it up in my room,” She rushed to say. “Hold on real fast.”
“Aye, Nisha, I’ma just get with you later.” Nisha was cool, but she wasn’t worth holding for. Holding on the phone had always been a pet peeve of mine. But somehow, the only person who could get me to hold was Chances’ spoiled ass.
Every time the contractors, movers, or painters said or did something she wasn’t quite familiar with, she’d call me. Then we’d be on the phone for almost an hour. At least twenty minutes split up of that hour was me on hold. The entire phone conversation, she’d be clicking over back and forth between me and them, relaying messages. That’s why I was taking it into my own hands and going up to both shops and to her loft at least twice a week until shit was done.
Chance was probably the sweetest person I knew. She was a push over too. Every other week there was something going wrong in the new shop, which meant Chance dished out more cash and was over her original budget. I knew they were taking advantage of her because she was a woman, but I was getting ready to put an end to that. If I had to fire everybody and hire a new crew, then I’d do that too as long as Chance wasn’t dealt a shitty hand in the end.
11:09am
“Where’s Chance?” I asked, stepping into the shop. Looking around, I got annoyed.
“She’s in her office,” Keri said smacking down hard on a piece of gum.
I frowned. “Is she paying you to be here?”
She nodded her head quickly, making her curly hair bounce. “Yeah, she is just in case a customer comes in.”
I looked around the empty donut shop. Half the floor was dug up and none of the fancy wall decorations Chance had gone all out her way for had been hung up. It was empty and it smelled like paint. There weren’t even donuts in the showcase.
“Yo, you can go.” I headed towards the back to find Chance.
“Did you run that by Chance?” She scoffed.
Ignoring her, I continued my route to find Chance Breon a.k.a. my Jelly. The paint fumes pissed me off further when I rounded the corner and saw open paint cans lined against the wall. Not one worker was in sight, which set my mood for my visit. Everybody had me fucked up. Chance did too.
I could hear her on the phone when I pushed her office door open. She was sitting on the corner of her desk and her back was to me, so she didn’t see me come in.
“Haze, really?” She giggled. “I already told you if you wanna taste this you gotta work for it.”
“He better.”
She damn near jumped out of her skin. Clutching her chest dramatically, she faced me and rolled her eyes. “Damn it, True! Don’t do that.”
“Why are you paying Keri to be here when there ain’t no work for her to do?”
“Because she still has bills and she’s been helping me organize my thoughts and ideas.” She sat down in her chair. “Haze, let me call you back.” She smiled. “Okay. Later.”
“I sent her home. When the shop opens again she can come back.”
“Why do you have to be a bully everywhere you go?” She sucked her teeth. “This is my business. I got this, True.”
“Okay.” I nodded. “So, where are the workers?” If my memory served me right, it was Thursday, which meant the painters should have been here at nine, and the electrician at ten-thirty. It was going on eleven-fifteen.
“I don’t know. They called and said they were going to be running late.” She shrugged. “When they get here, I’ll talk to them.”
“Nah.” I sat down in a vacant chair in front of her desk. “I’ma rap wit’ em.”
She groaned. “True, come on,” she drawled out. “People run late to work all the time. Have some empathy.”
“Fuck all that.”
She stood up. “Did you come here to my make my day worse?”
“I came here to make sure shit is done the way it’s supposed to be done.” I had a bunch of shit I had to do, but I needed to make sure Chance was taken care of first. She was the one who just had to have fancy-ass light fixtures, new floors, a remodeled bathroom, and a bigger kitchen. Her shop was fine the way it was before she started the demolition. But once Chance had her mind set on something, she eventually got it.
“The day hasn’t even fully started.” Sighing, she fixed the hip area of her tight, white, knee-length skirt. “Have you even had breakfast yet?”
“Nah.”
“Perfect. You can treat me to an early lunch.” Snatching up an over-sized handbag and a jacket, she sashayed out of the room.
I could hear her heels clicking loudly as she reached the front of the shop, but I still didn’t budge. We could go get something to eat later. Right now, Chance had two buildings under construction and a home she was supposed to be moving into by May. She was so spoiled that she was used to me doing everything for her. Shit was about to change, though.
“True! Come on!” she hollered from the front.
Going into my contacts, I pulled up the contractor’s number and leaned back in my chair. The clicking of Chances heels picked up again, letting me know she was backtracking.
“Hello?”
“Is this Manuel?”
“Uh...yes?”
“This is True Jones. I talked to you Tuesday.” My eyes landed on Chance standing in the doorway.
She mouthed “I’m hungry.” Then she folded her arms over her breasts and pouted.
“Uh...yes. For Chance’s Truth the umm, donut shop?” The loud music in his background started to irritate me.
“Aye, homie, turn yo music down.” He was making it hard to be professional. I took pride in knowing how to separate street shit from business. I could juggle the two proficiently and I could also call bullshit.
“I’m sorry. We’ll be there in thirty minutes.” The volume of the music decreased. “We blew a tire.”
Chance reentered her office slowly. “True, I know that face.” She sucked her teeth. “Please don’t start.”<
br />
“You were supposed to be here at nine. It’s going on eleven-thirty.” My eyes quickly skimmed the Rolex on my wrist. “There are half-open paint cans all throughout the shop.” I leaned forward in my chair. “I saw paint splattered on the walls and the floors too.”
“We were testing paint samples.”
“For what?” I wanted to spazz the fuck out. “What are you testing samples for? She picked out the color scheme two weeks ago.” I knew that for a fact. Chance had texted me the whole time, asking for my opinion. I still had the pictures in my phone.
“We don’t have the color she wants in stock.”
“That glitter-paint shit, white, grey, and purple?” I tried to remember all of the colors she’d picked.
“Sangria purple…” Chance finally spoke up. “I wanted Sangria purple.”
“And that’s the color they don’t have?” I spoke to Chance with my phone still to my ear.
“Yeah, they said they would try to get as close to that color for me as possible.”
I shook my head no. “Who told her she could have that Sangria color?”
“I’m not sure, but we couldn’t find it.”
“Okay,” I shot back, rubbing my chin slowly. I stared at Chance. “You got twenty minutes to get here. I’m about to call Home Depot right now and if they tell me they have it in stock don’t even bother coming.”
“Uh...hold on. We can check again. Last week, it was out of stock when we—"
“So, the last time you checked was the last time she told you that’s what she wanted?”
“Uh—“”
