“Get off me,” I snap pushing him away. I grab my shoes and walk out the studio. Once back inside the main house, I jump in the shower and lie down for a nap.
“Aneesah, Aneesah. Wake up. It’s Dani,” Dontay says shaking me out of my sleep. I jump out of the bed and run with him into Dani’s room. She is passed out in the middle of the floor with a belt tied around her fuckin’ arm and a needle sticking out.
“Is she dead?” I swallow the knot in my throat.
“No but she’s barley breathing,” he says holding her head.
“FUCK DANI,” I yell running over to the phone to dial 911. Just another day in the life of Aneesah Bradshaw. The tabloids are going to have another field day with this. As I’m holding the phone in my hands about to dial the last one, Nyce walks past the open door and steps inside.
“Hang the phone up,” he demands. He looks at Dani in disgust and then looks at me shaking his head. He walks into the bathroom, runs some water and comes back with cleaning gloves on his hands.
“Get back,” he snaps, plucking the needle out of Dani’s arm and running back into the bathroom. When he comes back, he is holding the needle in his hand. The needle is now filled with clear liquid. He grabs Dani’s arm and inserts the needle into it. Dani slowly comes to.
“Sorry,” she mumbles with tears in her eyes. Nyce walks out the room as Dontay and I lift her and help her inside the bathroom.
I stay up with Dani making sure that she is okay into the wee hours of the morning. When I walk out of her room, Nyce and Biggie are sitting at the top of the stairs.
“You gonna cuss her out like you did me this morning for disrespecting you in your house?” Nyce asks sarcastically when I walk by.
“Did you stay up just to say that?”
“Yeah, I did. I smoke a blunt and this bitch is shooting up dope but because it’s me you feel all disrespected and shit,” he snaps, standing up and getting in my face.
“Look, I had a long night and I rather not talk about it,” I tell him pushing him out of my way. He grabs my arm to stop me. Biggie jumps up, gets into a defensive stance and starts to growl.
“I ain’t gonna hurt her. Shut the fuck up,” Nyce yells at him.
“That’s right. Take your anger out on the dog,” I say to him as he lets my arm go.
“You know what? I don’t even know why the fuck I’m here.”
“I was wondering the same fuckin’ thing.”
“You’re gettin’ on my fuckin’ nerves and testing my patience with your little stank ass attitude.”
“There’s the fuckin’ door Nyce. You can step, and I promise you I won’t bat an eye.”
He gives me a wicked laugh.
“I am really getting tired of your shit,” he says.
“Well I suggest you lie down and take a nap ‘cause you are in my house,” I remind him.
“Yo, this isn’t you. This isn’t us. What’s wrong wit’ you?”
I grab Biggie by his collar and put him in my bedroom before turning to Nyce and getting in his face, looking up at him.
“What’s the matter with me, Nyce? I’m sorry. You’re not use to me not kissing your ass, huh? I bet you’re not use to any female not kissing your ass or begging you to stay,” I smile sadistically.
He doesn’t respond.
“Oh, what’s the matter? You got nothing to say?” I ask.
He looks at me coldly.
“This was never us. I was loyal to you,” he replies.
“Loyal? Loyal? You’re not loyal to anybody but your mothafuckin’ self. I stuck by you. I saved you, putting your needs ahead of my own. You cheated on me with Tori and then you up and married her. Where’s the fuckin’ loyalty in that?”
“I fucked up. I’m sorry. What the fuck do you want me to do? I am about to lose a shit load of money for you. I am going to lose my club and my grandmother’s house for you.”
Imitating his infamous move, I lick my lips, cock my head to the side and smile.
“I never asked you to,” I respond icily with a smirk on my face.
“Aneesah, man…fuck, I’m trying. Tell me what to do to make this right. I’m done with this back and forth. I swear. I just want to be with you and get us back to where we use to be,” he confesses.
“Why? So, you can leave me like you always do?”
“Come on, yo. You telling me that you might have the HIV was a hard pill for any niggah to swallow.”
“It’s for better or worse Nyce, not when it’s only convenient for you.”
“What da fuck you talkin’ about? I stuck by you at your worst.”
“Correction. I stuck by you at your worst. Gave you 10 mill and saved your life at your worst. You abandoned me and married someone else at my worst,” I state, turning on my heels and walking up the hallway and into my bedroom, leaving him standing with a dumb expression on his face.
After my early morning yoga workout, I get dressed and walk inside Dani’s room.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her.
“Okay, I guess. Tell Nyce thank you.”
“We’re not exactly speaking to each other.”
“I heard. Why are you giving him such a hard time?”
“Why are you so concerned about his feelings? What about mine?”
“Well, how do you feel Aneesah?”
“I feel like I hate him.”
“No, you don’t. I think you are so angry at him you won’t allow yourself to feel anything else.”
“Enough about that. Are you going to rehab?”
“No. Daddy cut me off again,” she sighs.
“Why not rehab, Dani?”
“Because I am enjoying my life the way that I choose to before I die, and I choose to be high. I’ll get it together Aneesah. I promise before the babies come, I will get it together.”
“Dani, I love you but if this is what it is, you can’t stay here once my babies are born. Do you understand?”
“Yes. I understand. I promise to get myself together before they come. Trust me. I will,” she pleas.
After talking with Dani, I meet up with Rita, Diana, and Miss Annette for a quiet lunch before meeting Rock and Charlie at the mall to shop for my babies. When I make it back to the house late in the afternoon, I hear music playing upstairs coming out of Nyce’s room. “O” by Omarion flutters out of his door. I ignore it as I pass his room, struggling with my shopping bags but when Marques Houston’s “Naked” starts to play, my curiosity gets the best of me.
“I know this niggah don’t got some bitch up in there.” I try to open his door, but it’s locked. I begin to bang on it. It takes him a minute to answer and when he finally does, I push him aside, ignore the smell of weed and barge my way into the dimly lit room, turning on the lights.
“What are you doing?” He asks. I ignore his question and check under the bed. I then walk into his bathroom, opening the shower stall door before walking inside his closet.
“Ain’t nobody in here,” he laughs.
“Whatever. I don’t care,” I shout from the closet.
“If you don’t care then why you up in here?” He yells from the room.
“Just because I don’t care does not give you the right to disrespect me or bring one of your hoe’s up in my home. You want to be a whore, fine but do that shit elsewhere,” I snap coming out of the closet and getting a good look of him. His chocolate body is glistening like he had just rubbed it down in some oil. My eyes start to explore his body, staring at his bare chest with a simple platinum and diamond rope chain draped around his neck. I admire his tattoos and his God given art work of muscles. Hard arms, hard chest and tight abs. I swear this niggah is carved to perfection; an African God; my chocolate Adonis. My eyes continue to observe his body following the trail of hair that trickles down to his muscle that is hiding behind a pair of white Armani boxer-briefs.
“You can get it if you want it IF you start to behave,” he says cracking a smile. I look up into his face, diamond earrings glis
tening in both of his ears.
“Only if I start to behave?” I ask innocently, stepping close to him and sticking my hand inside his briefs.
“I mean…” he answers, closing his eyes as I begin to massage his balls, manhood slowly standing at attention.
I slowly kneel down on one knee, aggressively yanking his briefs down, dick staring me in my face, hard as a boulder with pre-cum already drizzling out.
“Only if I behave?” I ask again, breathing heavy on his dick, making sure he can feel the hot air coming out of my mouth. I look up at him seductively, hypnotizing him with my grey eyes as he stares down at me licking his lips.
“You can always get it, Aneesah,” he says, tucking a finger under my chin and slowly lifting me up with his free hand. Once on my feet I smile, staring up at him as his head slowly comes down to my face to meet my lips.
“Too bad I don’t want it,” I whisper in his face, stopping him from kissing me and turning to walk out the room.
Chapter Twenty-Three
I haven’t seen or heard from Dani in days. Using my phone, I check her tracking to see where she is and where the hell is she traveling to now. She’s on the move. I call her, but she doesn’t answer. I call Pree to see if she has spoken to her, but she says no. After chatting with Pree for a few, I walk down into the kitchen to make something for dinner. As I’m waiting for the pot of water to boil to add my noodles, I make my way downstairs into the basement, turning on the TV. Biggie comes strolling down.
“Where you been?” I ask him as he licks my face. He climbs up onto the couch and lays his fat head in my lap. We sit watching TV together, enjoying the afternoon. About an hour later, Nyce walks into the room and sits down.
“What are you watching?” He asks.
“I was catching up on Scandal,” I respond before getting up and walking back upstairs to finish cooking.
I’m sitting at the kitchen island about to eat the lasagna I made when Nyce comes waltzing in.
“You sharing?” He asks. I shrug my shoulders and continue eating while reading “My Heart is a Fool” by BriAnn Danae. I start cracking up at a passage that I am reading when he sits down next to me with a plate of food in his hands. He starts talking, annoyingly interrupting my reading. Irritated, I cut my eyes at him, close my book, pick up my plate and walk out of the kitchen to finish eating upstairs in my room.
I finish eating while watching TV before dozing off on the couch. I am startled out of my sleep by the alarms going off and Biggie barking. I jump up to see what the hell is going on.
“Shhh Biggie, damn. It’s me,” Dani says struggling to push the code in on the alarm. Nyce briskly walks past me, walks down the stairs and shuts off the alarm.
“Thanks,” Dani slurs, obviously high. He slams the front door shut that she left open and walks back up the stairs, stopping to stare at me.
“I know,” I whisper before he even gets a chance to open his mouth to make his complaint.
“Shit,” I yell when Dani passes out on the floor in the middle of my foyer. I run down the stairs to help her.
“She’s fine. She’s high,” Nyce snaps before walking into his room, slamming the door. I struggle to get Dani up the stairs and put her to bed. I walk into Dontay’s room to vent but he isn’t home. I then proceed back to my room to lie back down.
Dani sleeps for about two days straight and I let her. I spend most of my days writing, avoiding Nyce, taking selfie’s and posting them to social media because I’m obsessed with my protruding belly and surfing the web buying stuff for the babies.
Stepping out of the shower later that evening, I do my nightly ritual of lathering my skin with shea butter.
“What the fuck is that?” I snap, feeling lines on my thighs. I run over to the mirror to examine the light stretch marks that appear on my skin.
“It’s okay but whatever it is that you are doing, stop it,” I say to the twins before laughing at how dumb I sound. Sticking my hand back into my $139.56 jar of shea butter, I start to rub it into my skin some more.
“This shit don’t work,” I yell, throwing the jar across the room before running over to pick it up to lather on some more. The babies start to squirm around and a smile spreads across my face.
“Stretch marks. I guess that’s a sacrifice I am willing to make because being a mother and giving life is something I wouldn’t give up for the world,” I smile while continuing to rub it into my skin.
As the end of May approaches and I am in my seventh month, I wake up early, excited to begin Lamaze classes. I want the full, “normal” experience. I don’t want someone coming to my house to coach me. I want to be in a room with other expecting mothers as we share stories and help each other. I just hope that the mothers in my class aren’t star-stricken fans and I am able to enjoy this experience.
After I finish getting dressed, I write the address down on a piece of paper and walk into Nyce’s room. Placing myself at the foot of his bed, I watch him sleep while thinking about smothering him with a pillow. The babies’ movements snap me out of my day dream. I kick the bed post for him to wake up and he jumps out of bed, with his gun drawn.
“Put the gun away stupid. Here,” I say, handing him the address. “That’s the address to Lamaze class.”
“What time does it start?”
“In a half hour,” I reply walking out the door. I jump into my car and leave, hoping not to see him there. That’s why I decided to wake him up and tell him at the last minute.
I walk into the class and the instructor pleasantly greets me and advises me to find a spot on the mat. I deal with the stares, glares, and whispers I receive from the other couple’s while quietly making my way to the back of the room and removing my shoes. There is a black couple sitting on the mat next to where I am standing. I must look like a fool because I have no idea how in the hell I am going to get my pregnant ass on this floor without any help.
“Would you like some help?” The man asks me.
“If your wife doesn’t mind,” I respond.
“As long as you’re not going to steal him,” his wife laughs. Not sure if she is being a smart ass or is simply making a joke but I accept her husband’s help and get comfortable on the floor. Glancing around, I watch the other mothers with their husbands, boyfriends or lovers. It would have been nice if I were here with someone else under different circumstances.
The instructor begins the class right as Nyce walks in. Damn it. How’d he get dressed so fast?
“Excuse me. Sorry to interrupt,” he apologizes before making his way towards me. He removes his sneakers and sits on the floor next to me. I notice the stares of adoration from the other females including the gay ones. They have no idea that behind his beautiful chocolate face lies the Devil.
The teacher instructs us to sit in between our partners’ legs. I reluctantly scoot in between Nyce’s legs and his hands immediately go to my belly.
“Get off me,” I whisper.
“You’re on me,” he whispers back in my ear. The babies start squirming around as he keeps his hands pressed gently against my stomach.
“I can feel them,” he murmurs.
“No shit but don’t get used to it. It’s just for the class,” I respond as I practice my breathing techniques that the teacher is instructing.
When class is over, Nyce stands up and holds out his hand to help me up.
“Go away. I don’t need your help,” I lie.
“Stop being stupid and let me help you,” he huffs. I give him my hand and he gently pulls me up. We are now standing face to face as he gently strokes my cheek and looks into my eyes instantly turning me on.
“NO,” my mind screams. I slap his hand away, grab my shoes and walk out the door.
When I arrive home, I enter the house and walk directly into Dani’s room, surprised that she’s still here.
“You done?” I ask her when she comes out the bathroom, the smell of vomit hitting my nostrils. She’s pale and her hair is sticking to
her sweaty skin.
“I’m trying Aneesah,” she responds, looking up at me and crawling into bed. “How was Lamaze?”
“Cool. When was the last time you’ve used?” I ask.
“Two nights ago,” she replies, pulling the covers over her and shaking. “Can you turn on the heat?” I walk over to the thermostat and turn the heat on to 75 even though it’s 87 degrees outside.
“I’m here for you. What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing. Just be here,” she says, holding out her hand. I grab onto her clammy cold hand and hold it.
“Ten days Dani. You just have to survive this for ten days,” I whisper as she shivers under the blankets, side effects of the heroin withdraw.
The days that follow haven’t gotten any easier. Dontay and I take turns changing her sheets from the many times she has thrown up, pissed or shitted herself. I’ve become her punching bag of verbal abuse as well as her shoulder to cry on. Nyce stands back and watches pissed off, but he knows not to say shit to me about it. When Dontay abandons ship, unable to take on the stress that goes along with this, I lean on Pree and Morgan who thankfully come to give me a break however, they aren’t as patient nor determined as I am in helping Dani get sober. Her own father has given up on her, but I refuse to.
I’m in the kitchen preparing breakfast for Dani. I grab the breakfast tray and head up to her room.
“Dani, you awake?” I ask, barging in with a tray in hand. Her bed is neatly made with a note that simply reads I’m Sorry sitting on her pillow.
“Fuck. Seven days Dani. All of this for you to give up after only seven days,” I snap, checking the tracking device I have on her phone. Dani is back on the move. I am both mad and fearful for my friend but more so mad at my wasted efforts in trying to save her.
Chapter Twenty-Four
I am huge, nearing my eighth month. The stretch marks on my thighs seem to have slightly spread and I can no longer fit in “nice” bras and panties. I had a slight melt down the other night when I noticed that my thighs are now touching and rubbing together when I walk, AND I no longer have a belly button. I don’t mean to complain because I wouldn’t change this for anything but fuck. I’m big and uncomfortable. I just want my body back.
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