Consequences
Page 28
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What the hell? It couldn’t be right. There was no way in hell Cory’s account was negative in less than three months. But Wachovia Bank was the name on the debit card he had been swiping all over town the past two weeks. Or at least until the previous Thursday when we’d gone to get gas and he’d acted like the strip on the back of the card was bad. It was then that I wondered why. His fake ass was broke. I couldn’t believe I let him play me like that.
Cory tried to speak, but I held up a hand, silencing him. “You know what, Cory? There’s a lotta things I will tolerate, but never someone going through my personal belongings. So listen to what I am about to say. It’s over between us. Now leave!”
He was pacing back and forth across the length of my small room. His chest was heaving and his hands were balled by his sides. He looked hurt. A muscle twitched at his dimpled cheek. His eyes were glassy. I wished I could feel sorry for him, but he’d used up all his chances. Besides, his behavior was starting to scare me.
I rose from the bed. “Cory, I’m not gonna ask you again.”
“I ain’t going nowhere till you tell me who that mothafucka is!”
He moved all up in my face like he was about to beat a sistah down. I met him eye to eye. I’m no punk, but I’m no fool either. My heart was beating rapidly against my ribs. I took a step back just to be on the safe side. “Whoever he is, he obviously has more money than you have, Mr. Lottery Winner.” I balled up the ATM receipt and tossed it at his head. He picked it up, uncrumpled it, and stared down at it. Busted! The embarrassed look on his face was priceless.
“You need to leave.”
He moved toward me. “I said I ain’t going nowhere.”
“Now, listen to what I’m about to say. Koolaid’s only a phone call away. So the choice is yours. Either get out or get put out,” I said, with a combination of anger and fear marking my every word. Not that I needed my brother’s help. With a quick left hook, I was almost certain I could get in a few good licks. However, since he knew my brother by reputation, the threat sounded much more effective.
Cory stared at me for a long moment like he was contemplating his next move, then he reached out and tried to hold me in his arms. “Why you doin’ me like this? I thought you were feelin’ me, boo.”
“That was before I discovered your ass was broke.” I jumped out of his reach, moved around my bed for the phone, and made a show of punching numbers. “I’m calling Koolaid.” I was really calling time and temperature, but he didn’t need to know that.
“A’ight, I’ll go, but this discussion ain’t over,” he replied, his eyes flashing with anger. “You still ain’t told me who that nigga is in the photo.”
I punched END on my cordless but continued to hold it in my hand just in case I needed to clock the fool upside his head. “We don’t have shit else to talk about, and the man in the photo is none of your business.”
He gave me a look of disbelief. “Oh, so it’s like that?”
“Yeah, it’s like that.”
“Fuck you, then, you gold-digging bitch!”
See, this is what I was talking about. Take a deep breath, Netta. Any other time, I would have kicked a brotha in his nuts for calling me a bitch, but since he was getting the hell out of my house, I allowed the comment to slide.
While I kept an eye on him, Cory quickly slipped into a sweatshirt lying at the end of the bed. As soon as his Jordans were back on his feet, he made a show of grabbing everything he’d left at my house over the last two weeks, which wasn’t hard to do, considering I kept most of it in a small box next to the door. Cory had gotten too comfortable. I’d been telling him to take his shit back home to his mama, because I wasn’t about to be washing some negro’s stinky-ass draws.
Cory grabbed the box, then took his time walking to the door as if I might change my mind. Halfway down the hall, he paused and looked me directly in the eyes. “Once I walk out that door, I ain’t ever steppin’ up in here again.”
“You promise,” I mumbled, then stepping around him, I went to the door and swung it open. “Have a nice night.”
Suddenly Cory wasn’t the tough guy anymore. Tears were running down his face, and thick white spit was in the corners of his mouth. “Why you doin’ me like this?” he whispered.
My stomach did a nosedive. Damn, I hate to see a man cry. I almost felt sorry for him. “Because I told you I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. Obviously you forgot the rules since you decided to go rummaging through my stuff.”
“Yeah, a’ight.” He leaned forward and tried to kiss me. I quickly backed up. I’d be damned if he was going to touch me with that foul shit near his lips.
Cory shook his head like I was making a big mistake. “You a trip,” he said as he stepped out of the door.
“No, you tripped!” I spat as I slammed the door and immediately locked it behind him. I then moved over to the window and watched out the corner of the blinds as he loaded the backseat of his orange Mitsubishi Eclipse. Bitch-ass car. I’d been teasing him since day one that he drove a gay-ass ride. I even refused to be caught dead riding in the passenger side, which meant most dates we rolled in my Benz.
I kept watching as he climbed behind the wheel. There was no way I was taking my eye off him. I had learned long ago to never turn your back on a brotha after you kicked him to the curb. I made that mistake once and had sugar put in my tank.
I waited until Cory had reached the corner, then sighed with relief as I made my way up to my bedroom. Once there I collapsed on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering if my husband and his money would ever be enough. So far, the answer was no.
Damn! I really wanted that bracelet.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
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Copyright © 2013 by Sasha Campbell
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
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ISBN: 978-0-7582-6943-0