“It’s too late,” I told him, then added, “Go use the bathroom right this minute.”
“I’m not sleepy,” Tyson protested. “When are you getting grandma’s dog back from Remy?”
Lawd, why did I have to deal with this by myself every night? My kids, plus Nya, and my job were too much. KingMaxB was right across the street with my girlfriend and her kids. I’d get him whenever my mother got back.
Tyson was four, a year older than Nya. My daughter, Ty, was the same age as Nya. Ty gave me her favorite pink head wrap. I circled it, then tied a bow at the top.
“Tyson, don’t make me tell you twice,” I said, staring at him.
“Right this minute, boy,” Ty scolded as though she were the mother. Taking the remote from Tyson, she powered off the flat screen.
I texted Devereaux, Getting ready to tuck in the kids. I have a callback so you need to pick Nya up by 8a.
“Give the good Lord His praise for this day. When I open this door, anybody with their feet on the floor will need Jesus.”
Nya knelt next to Ty, then laughed. “TeeDara funny.”
“Don’t try me, lil girl. You’d better ha-ha in your sleep,” I warned.
The boys were side by side at their twin bed. I waited until they got under their sheet then gave all of them a hug and a kiss. Nya sat up.
My younger son, Tyrell, shook his head. “Mama means it, Nya. Put your head on the pillow.”
Nya cried, “I want my daddy.”
Sitting on the bed, I held her. “I know, sweetheart. Maybe he can tuck you in at home tomorrow.” By the time I’d finished the sentence she was asleep.
With glossy, almost teary eyes, Tyson slowly blinked. “My daddy probably had to work late. He coming to take me to school?”
Slowly, I exhaled. “I’ll let you know in the morning,” I answered, then turned off the light.
Never giving up hope that his father would one day make us a family, I left the door partially open, then went to the kitchen. I poured a glass of white wine, sat in the living room. Finally, the first moment of the day for myself.
Little Five Points was my neighborhood since I’d gotten pregnant and dropped out after my freshman year at Baylor. Mercedes told me to have an abortion, get my degree, meet a man who wanted to give me his last name, then give birth to my first child.
Section 8 had served me and my three kids well. The two hundred dollars I paid last month should’ve been the full rent of fifteen hundred based on my new income. Why should I do the right thing when the President didn’t pay taxes?
Rubbing the black leather, I traced the split in my sofa, poked the yellow cushion that stuck out. The wall in front of me was covered with framed pictures of my babies, Nya, and Mercedes’s twins. Soon my sister Alexis’s newborn would be added to the wall. That was if she didn’t take Mercedes’s advice and terminate the pregnancy.
My mom’s photo was centered. She was my everything. Wish I could say that about my dad, whoever he was. Tears clouded my eyes. The only time I cried was over my father and Tyson’s father. Neither one of them loved me enough to claim me.
“Time for me to move out and move on.”
I texted Tyson’s dad, I need you to keep your son for two weeks.
Copying then pasting the same message to my other children’s sperm donors, I heard, Knock. Knock followed by, “Sandara. Open the door.”
Shaking my head, I hurried to let Blackstone in. Should’ve never let him give me that big black dick. Now I was stuck with him until Tyson graduated from high school.
“Hey, boo. You put the kids down?” he said, walking in.
“Yeah. A few minutes ago.”
“What you sippin’ on?” he questioned, drinking straight from my wine bottle. “I need a nightcap.”
“Not tonight. I have a callback tomorrow with—” He opened his mouth and covered mine, smothering the words I was about to say.
“The only backing you need to do is on this,” he said, unzipping his pants. “Don’t start denying Daddy his pussy jus’ ’cause yo’ money flowin’.”
Soon as he raised my dress above my hips, I pulled it down, backed away. “Not tonight, Black. I’m serious.” Black’s loads were heavy and I didn’t want to take any chances on leaking while modeling expensive designer clothes.
He had the same last name as my mom’s first boyfriend, Billy, and I was thankful there was no relation. One sister in my family with an incest situation was one too many.
“Since you got that lil modeling gig, you too big to fuck with your boi? You got one of those international muvphuckas with good hair and a accent and shit? This always gon’ be mine, boo.”
He cupped both holes between my thighs and butt real tight. I held my breath.
Grabbing my biceps, he turned my body toward the refrigerator, forced my braless tits against the stainless steel. I felt my nipples getting hard. I submitted the second he pressed the lever. Crushed ice fell into his hand and onto the floor. This scene replayed at least three times a week.
I turned an ear to the kids’ bedroom. Listened intensely. The only sound I heard was my heavy breathing.
Black had to hurry up!
His hand slid on my clit. He penetrated me with his cold finger, then poked me several times shoving chips of ice in my pussy. I moaned as my muscles tightened to his movement. Kneeling behind me, he pulled my panties to the side and started licking my asshole real slow. His tongue slid along my anus. His mouth felt like one big ice cube.
Hated how my body naturally responded to him. Just when I was getting ready to cum, he stopped, stood, then opened the freezer.
Holding his wrist, I faced him, then whispered, “Those are for the kids when they get home tomorrow. I only have four. What if Nya comes back?”
Staring into my eyes, he lied effortlessly. “I’ll get ’em some more.”
I was accustomed to him not doing what he’d say more than he’d kept his word, especially when it came to our son. But I couldn’t deny Black. Maybe one day he’d live with us.
Unwrapping the strawberry flavored Popsicle, he eased it in my pussy. I cringed as he pulled it out.
“Turn your ass back around,” he commanded.
I felt the syrupy frozen block began to melt as he put it in my butt.
“Fuck this shit,” he grunted. Yanking out what was left on the stick, he stuffed his engorged head and shaft in my ass.
Forcing him back, I looked over my shoulder, he lowered his pants to his knees, then shoved his dick in my syrupy ass again.
“I don’t care how famous you become, you always gon’ be my bitch,” he said, jamming all of his dick inside of me. “Whose ass is this?”
Tears streamed down my face. I liked rough sex. Hated that he wasn’t in love with me. “Why you don’t want us to be a family?” I asked.
He fucked me harder. “We are a family. I’m here, ain’t I?”
Opening the refrigerator door, I shielded my body from view should any of the kids come out of the bedroom. I slammed my butt into his crotch, concentrating on getting mine first.
“Make that ass clap for Daddy,” he said, slapping me hard.
I grabbed his hand. “Stop. You gon’ wake them up.”
Black hissed, “Twerk, then, bitch, so I can bust this nut.”
With three kids, three baby daddies, I’d stopped letting other men cum inside my pussy. A finger, dildo, a vibrator in my V-thang right now would get me off. Learned the hard way with my last one that birth control wasn’t one hundred.
Fingering my clit, I came so hard my knees buckled.
He hiked my butt cheeks toward him, then grunted in my ear. “Take all this cum for Daddy.”
The side of my face was flat against the lemonade container. Grunting in my ear, he came inside my hot ass. Semen saturated my crack, streamed down my thighs, plopped to the floor.
All of this was my fault. I kept letting Black come back. Success didn’t make me love him any less. I wanted him to be pro
ud of me. Maybe if I knew who my father was I’d have one man who loved me for me . . . maybe. There was also a chance that I’d never meet my dad.
Black shuffled his feet to the counter, unrolled a fistful of paper towels, wet them, then scrubbed his dick and balls. He handed the soiled mound to me, got a fresh bunch of paper, dried himself, handed it to me, then pulled up his pants.
“I was just about to text you when you knocked.” Filling a bucket with hot water, I added bleach. Cleaning up his mess, I told Black, “I need you to watch your son for two weeks. I have a big runway show coming up.”
He shook his head. “Can’t.”
“Why?”
“You gon’ let me hold a hundred?”
“To keep your son?”
“Now that you the man you need to pay me for this.” He grabbed his dick.
Mopping the floor, I started crying. “Never mind. We’re moving anyway and I’m not giving you the address. You ain’t never gon’ do right by us. I’ma get me one of those fine men with wavy hair and an accent.”
He rubbed his hand over his mouth. “Okay, boo. I got you.” His hand cupped my neck.
“Ahh!” I dropped the mop.
He was jealous? I always wanted to role-play but not with his being angry. Black’s grip became tight. I held his wrist. “Ba—”
Tried to call him “baby.” The thickness of his fingers curled. I couldn’t exhale. Inhale. Digging my pointed nails into his triceps, I dragged his flesh.
His other hand rose eye-level. As I watched Black make a fist, my eyelids grew wider. As he drew back his arm, he thrust forward. Stopped inches from my nose.
Loosening his touch enough for me to choke, he whispered in my ear, “Bitch, don’t make me mess up that pretty little face.”
I saw his rage. Imagining how helpless my mother must’ve felt when Fortune beat her, I was terrified of what would happen if I’d scratched him again. I closed my eyes and prayed, “Please, let me go.”
“Daddy?”
Oh God. I hadn’t heard Tyson get out of bed.
Black kissed me, then released his grip with a shove. “I love you. Let me know when you need me,” he said. “I’ll see if my mom can help you out.”
I picked up Tyson, held him close. “Baby, your daddy has to leave. Mommy will tuck you back in.”
“You’re red, Mommy,” my son cried, softly touching my neck.
Checking his little hand, I was relieved there was no blood on his fingers.
“No, you won’t,” Black said, taking Tyson from me. “This one here is my boy. I’ll put him back to bed.” Kissing my ear, he mumbled, “I’ll keep him but you coming up off of some of that bank you stashin’. Or I’m taking you to court.”
Tyson leaned his head on Black’s shoulder. “Night, Mommy.” There was joy in our son’s voice.
Shaking my head as Black took Tyson into the bedroom, I became scared all over again. He was going to act a fool when he saw that the flesh I’d ripped away from his biceps left gashes in his tattoos.
I went to the bathroom, locked the door, glanced in the mirror. Stretching my neck, I knew it would take more than a few hours for the deep red bruises to fade from my light skin.
I got my cell, raced into my bedroom, locked the door, pushed the back of a chair under the knob, then texted my girlfriend Remy, Can you keep my kids and Nya tomorrow?
Remy replied, Sure. I need three hundred to pay my car note. It’s late.
CHAPTER 7
Devereaux
“Geez.” I barely recognized the man standing in my doorway.
A beard coiled like Berber carpet spanned Phoenix’s face ear to ear. The length of his mustache hid his upper lip. There was no skullcap covering his once ultra-low fade. An inch-high unlined matted afro had taken its place.
“Well. Well,” Mercedes said. “Your new mommy can’t afford to give you an allowance to clean yourself up? As I recall, you were always in a barber’s chair on Devereaux’s dime. You don’t need to cross the threshold because your daughter isn’t here.”
Interrupting, I told my sister, “Mercedes, please. Not now,” then invited my ex into my home.
Phoenix had done me wrong. Me. Not her. I didn’t take pleasure in stomping on any person when they were down. Seeing my ex appear homeless was a heart-wrenching first.
“Aw, give me a break,” Mercedes lamented. “That despicable look is to play you like a fool. Don’t forget he doesn’t care about Nya.” She redirected her words to Phoenix. “Just because you couldn’t come to your daughter’s party did not excuse you from getting her a gift.”
Phoenix scratched his beard, stared at me, tilted his head toward Mercedes. His eyes shifted to my sister, back in my direction. I shook my head. Obviously, he wanted to come in and wanted Mercedes to get out.
“She’s right,” I said. “A card. A text wishing Nya happy birthday would’ve been nice.”
Cautiously, he took one step. I was quiet. He took another. The heaviness of Phoenix’s hands caressed my hips. Instantly I became weak. Wanted him to take me right here on my living room floor. I touched his matted afro. I didn’t care about that he looked unkept. One trip back to the barbershop could restore his sexiness.
“I love you, Dev. I can’t live without you.”
Mercedes yelling, “Call me a bitch!” startled me. “Sounds familiar? You still love her too?”
I shouldn’t have given her all the details of Phoenix’s infidelity. “Please. Respect the father of my child.”
“Yeah, bitch!” Phoenix stood tall. “Where’s your man? Why you so fucking bitter? Learn to suck dick and your man might keep his ass at home.”
His shade was accurate. I needed to stop revealing my intimate details but I hadn’t shared Mercedes’s business with anyone, including our sisters, my ex, or my mother.
Gently touching Phoenix’s chest, I said, “Close the door,” feeling bad for him. The hem of his light-blue wrinkled polo stopped short of covering the bulge protruding from the front of his gray cotton sweats. The waistband sagged around his butt. “Are you hungry?”
I’d never seen him this casual unless he was headed to the gym.
“Something hot to eat would be nice, babe,” he said. Lounging on my sofa, he picked up my remote, turned on my television.
The thought of not sleeping alone tonight, I’d already considered letting him stay.
Mercedes approached Phoenix. “Don’t you mean someone to eat?”
Ignoring her, he said, “Let me get a Hennessy straight up, Dev.”
Mercedes stood over my ex, snatched the remote control. “He’s only here because Ebony wouldn’t let him move in with her and I refused to let you let this bum move back into your house.” She folded her arms, tapped her foot, checked her cell. “I’m staying the night.”
Bypassing Mercedes, Phoenix came to me. Pulled me into a strong embrace. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’ll never disrespect you again. I need you, Dev. I’m nothing without you.”
“You were nothing with her. You’ll never be anything. And her name is Devereaux.” If Mercedes stood closer to Phoenix, to us, we could group hug.
“Get that.” Phoenix paused, exhaled, let me go, then walked away. “Because of you, Dev, I’m trying really hard to be respectful to her ass.”
I watched my sister follow Phoenix back to the sofa and block him from sitting down. This time she stared up at him, placed her hand on her hip.
“Other than a second chance to fuck up Devereaux’s life, why are you here, Phoenix? Huh? She’s successful! You’re nothing! A real man would love to marry her. She begged you to set a date and you thought you were the one settling.”
Phoenix towered a half foot over Mercedes. “I’m not gon’ tell you twice. Bitch! Back up off of me.”
Aw hell no! He’d crossed the line with the “b” word. My heart pounded. “Phoenix, you need to leave,” I said. Not that I agreed with Mercedes but tolerating his calling my sister out of her name wasn’t happening.
“Mercedes, stop it!”
“He shouldn’t have called me a—
Phoenix grabbed Mercedes’s biceps, picked her up. Her feet dangled as she tried to kick him in the balls. “I ain’t no punk nigga like your husband.” He tossed her on the sofa. As he drew back his fist, his eyes were cold. “Open your mouth again.”
“No!” I cried, grabbing him. “Both of you stop it, please.”
Phoenix dropped his hand to his side. Shook his head.
My sister kicked him in the groin. He grabbed his nuts. I shielded Mercedes’s body with mine, then snatched the home cordless phone off the sofa table.
“Move out the way, Dev. I’ma beat that bitch’s—” Bending over, he cupped his dick. “Fuck!” He fell to his knees. His forehead banged against the area rug.
I didn’t care if he crawled to the BMW I’d bought him that was in my driveway. “Get out of my house Phoenix. Now!” The situation escalated beyond my control. I dialed 9-1-1. I’d seen black eyes and a busted lip on our mother. I’d get my gun and . . . Shit! He knew where we kept two loaded guns on the shelf by the front door.
Don’t look at the box, I told myself. None of this was supposed to happen.
“Nine-one-one operator.”
Mercedes screamed, “Get the hell out!”
“He won’t leave,” I said. “Please, just send someone to get him out of my house before somebody gets hurt.” I ended the call. Begged Phoenix, “Leave before the police gets here. We can talk later. Just the two of us. I promise.” I’d say anything to get him out. There was no way I’d allow Phoenix back in my place.
He stood as though he’d regained his strength. “We can talk now. She’s the one that has to go.” Grabbing my arms, he started to pull me off of Mercedes. “Since Mercedes wants to act like a man, I’ma show that bitch how it feels to get kicked in the nuts.”
I didn’t want to do a repeat of what Mercedes had just done. I had to. Letting me go, he stumbled, bit his bottom lip, then backed away.
Bam! Bam! Bam! “Police! Open up!”
I whispered at Phoenix, “Go upstairs to the bedroom and lock the door.” I motioned for him to go now.
The One I've Waited For Page 5
