by Jade Jones
Roxie felt like she was still being punished for sleeping with her sister’s man. Ever since she fucked Calix it seemed like every relationship she got in was cursed. O’ Zone was murdered in a nightclub, her baby daddy died in a tragic car accident, and now Magyc was shitting all over her heart.
Cameron opened her mouth to respond, but snapped it shut when she saw a familiar face in the crowd of people. Roxie watched all the color flush from Cam’s face. Her eyes were round with fear. She looked like she’d saw a ghost.
“What is it?” Roxie asked, turning in her seat.
A dark-haired white guy walked past with his girlfriend.
“I thought that was…” Cameron’s voice trailed off. She didn’t even want to speak his name. “Never mind,” she quickly said. When Cam looked back at Roxie she could read criticism in the sharpness of her gaze.
“Cam, you do this shit every time we go out. You realize that, right? You gotta break free of the chains,” she said. “Stop torturing yourself and move on. That mothafucka is dead.”
Cameron sighed and took a sip of her iced coffee. Roxie was right. She had to stop agonizing over the past. “C’mon. Help me find a top to wear,” she said, desperately changing the subject. “Jude wants to take me out this weekend.”
“Alright now,” Roxie smiled. “You ain’t said nothing but a word. I can definitely help get you together.” She took immense pride in her creative fashion sense.
Together, they started their hunt for the perfect shirt. Trailing close behind them was one of Jude’s bodyguards. He was 6”4, 230 lbs. of solid muscle, and the first to shoot when shit popped off. Jude wouldn’t let Cam leave the house without some form of protection.
She and Roxie had just walked out of BeBe empty-handed when Jude Face Timed Cam.
“Wassup, babe?” she answered.
“You. I’m missing yo’ ass already,” he said.
Cameron smiled and blushed like they were interacting for the very first time. Something about him did that to her. She loved everything about her husband. His gentle brown eyes, his beautiful thick, fuzzy dreads, and his lips that weren’t too big and weren’t too small. Every single thing about him made her heart beat just a little faster. She was given a man that was everything she dreamed of and everything she needed. The answer to her prayers.
“I’ll be home soon,” Cam told him.
“Don’t stay out too late,” he said, rather bossily.
She bit her lip and then forced her mouth into a smile. “I promise I won’t. Let me say to hi to the kids real quick.”
Jude moved the camera so that she could see Journee and Justin. “Say hi to mommy.”
Her son grabbed the phone excitedly, and put it so close to his face that she could see up his tiny nostrils. “Hi mommy,” he sang.
“Justin, move the camera back. I can’t see you,” she giggled.
While, Cam talked and laughed with her family, Roxie noticed a group of fine ass men walk past. There were maybe six or seven of them, and they all possessed an air of confidence.
The most attractive of them was a young Korean guy with jet-black hair and near perfect features. He was so damn cute that Roxie had to do an automatic double take.
He had smooth ivory skin, a slender button nose, small kissable lips, a cut in his left brow, and dark hooded eyes that were seductive by default. He was a pretty boy, but possessed a bohemian street style that was the complete opposite.
His ensemble consisted of a gray beanie, which covered half his head, a long sleeve cream top, destroyed jeans, suede boots, and a plaid shirt wrapped around his waist. His jewelry was minimal, but not a single piece cost less than $10,000. There was an enigmatic aura that surrounded him. His confident stride matched that of an acclaimed celebrity. He had an instinctive sense of propriety about himself.
Roxie saw Asian men all the time in Atlanta—especially in Midtown. But she knew right away that he wasn’t from the A. He didn’t look like he was from Georgia, period.
All of a sudden, he made eye contact with Roxie and smiled. It wasn’t an intensely flirtatious smile—just one that conveyed the mutual attraction.
She shyly smiled back. Something about the way he looked at her made her feel tingly all over. But she forgot that sensation in an instant when she remembered that she had a boyfriend. And he damn sure wouldn’t have approved of her gawking at some other dude. No matter how suave and good-looking he was.
Magyc better get on his shit, she thought. There’s plenty other men who would jump at the opportunity to take his place.
13
“Man, ain’t nobody takin’ my girl’s place so get off that sucka shit,” Magyc told Tara. “I’m tired of havin’ this mothafuckin’ conversation wit’cho ass. Every time I come through you on the same ole’ bullshit.”
Tara was his ex-girlfriend, Briana’s best friend. Back when she was with Magyc, they used to have threesomes all the time. Unbeknownst to Briana, their affair continued outside the bedroom and well into his second relationship.
Magyc knew he was dead wrong for stepping out on Roxie, but a nigga was going to be a nigga at the end of the day. He had no real aspirations of ever seriously settling down.
In the beginning, he tried to do right by Roxie, but over time he eventually went back to his old, whorish ways. Nearly losing the love of his life just wasn’t enough to correct his flaws.
“How is me wanting to be a priority bullshit?” Tara asked with an attitude. She was completely naked in bed with the sheets bunched around her bosom. They had just finished fucking, but you wouldn’t have known it based on Magyc’s hostility. As usual, he was giving her the runaround.
Magyc deliberately avoided her eyes. “’Cuz you know my bitch ain’t havin’ that shit. Fuck you talkin’ ‘bout?” he snapped.
Tara pursed her lips and resisted the urge to slap him. His answer wasn’t a sufficient enough explanation. “She wouldn’t be able to handle a lot of shit if she really knew the truth.”
Magyc didn’t like the sound of that at all. As a matter of fact, it sounded like a blatant threat. “She ain’t gonna fuckin’ know,” he said with finality.
Tara watched as he secured the gold straps on his Giuseppe sneakers. Afterwards, he pulled his Givenchy tee shirt on. Magyc blew thousands on clothes, cars, jewelry, and strippers but tossed her a meager $5,000 a month.
“She won’t unless I tell her…”
Suddenly, he yoked Tara up by her throat. “Don’t fuck with me, T! I’m tellin’ you, the last thing you wanna do is fuck with me!” he threatened. “Chill out with all that bullshit! You ain’t finna say shit. Not if you want me to keep droppin’ this dick in yo’ back.”
“Nigga, fuck yo’ mediocre ass dick! Get your gotdamn hands off me!” Tara pushed him. “If you want me to continue keeping this shit on the hush then I’mma need more than just five punk ass bands.”
“That’s what’chu trippin’ on? Some mothafuckin’ money?” Digging in his pocket, he pulled out a knot and threw the cash at her like she was a prostitute. “Here! Take the fucking money, bitch! I ain’t trippin’ on this lil’ shit!”
Magyc started to leave, but Tara quickly jumped out the bed and went after him. “It’s about more than just the money, Magyc!” she finally admitted.
Without warning, he turned around and shook her violently. “You all over the mothafuckin’ place! Get the fuck off my back, Tara! GOTDAMN!” He threw her onto the mattress and left the bedroom angrily. He was so easy to upset, and she wondered if it was because his drug usage had increased.
Tara was putting unnecessary pressure on him, and he didn’t need that shit now. She knew he had a bitch. She’d known for the last year, and now she wanted to act up.
This mothafucka something else, he told himself. Tara had good pussy—some of the best out there—but she wasn’t worth the fucking headache.
When Magyc reached the living room, he saw her three-year old son watching TV on the couch. He more than likely heard them a
rguing, but it wouldn’t be anything new for him.
Magyc walked over and hi-fived him. “Wassup, lil’ man. You good?”
“Yes…”
“What’s this weird ass shit you watchin’, yo’?” He wasn’t the most experienced when it came it came to dealing with children. Shit was so much easier with Rain because she couldn’t talk.
“The Octonauts,” he said jovially.
“Fuck is that about?”
“Underwater animals…”
For a three-year old, Marlon was very smart and perceptive. Magyc wouldn’t have been surprised if he knew how crazy his mama was.
Tara and her son lived in a nice two-bedroom apartment in Home Park. Magyc paid her whopping $2500 rent, and yet she acted like he never did shit for her. However, he knew that finances weren’t the real issue. She wanted something more from him. Something he just wasn’t ready for.
Two seconds later Tara burst out the bedroom wearing a silk robe. Dark purple marks had already formed on her neck from him choking her. “You ain’t shit, Magyc! You ain’t fucking shit! You’re worse than worthless! I don’t even know why I deal with you! All you do is walk over me! I swear I’mma just stop opening my door and legs for yo’ ass! I’m tired of dealing with a nigga that ain’t gon’ change!” She was near tears as she outlined his many faults.
Magyc was completely unfazed by her meaningless threat. He had easy access to both her home and pussy whenever he wanted. And there was never a time when he worried about another man being there. Last time she tried that shit, he broke her company’s nose and sent his ass to the hospital. It was no secret that Magyc had a fucked up temper. It didn’t help either that he was also the jealous type.
“Do what’chu gotta do,” he said nonchalantly. And he meant that shit too.
“Oh believe me, I will. Starting with putting your mothafucking ass on child support…” she said with resolution.
Magyc was halfway to the door when she hit him with that shit. Her unexpected threat immediately caused him to stop in mid-step.
“Damn, so you gon’ pull that card on a nigga?” he asked.
“I’m tired of you treating us like we’re your secret! You run all around the city with that bitch, claiming her daughter like she’s yours, but don’t do a damn thing for your own son!” she pointed out. “What type of fucked up shit is that?”
“Bitch, I ain’t even want the lil’ m—” Magyc caught himself just before he said something hurtful in front of the child. At such an early age, he was already very impressionable. The last thing Magyc wanted was Marlon thinking that he hated him. It wasn’t like that at all.
When Magyc was seventeen, Tara got knocked up while they were fooling around. Briana, of course, had no clue and he simply wanted to brush the pregnancy under the rug. After all, he wasn’t ready for kids. He damn sure wasn’t trying to father a side bitch’s baby.
Magyc paid Tara to get the abortion, but she did what the fuck she wanted to. He never wanted a kid with her ass, but she was so determined to start a family even with lacking moral support.
Tara’s mother died from cancer at an early age and her pops was nowhere in the picture. That was partly the reason she wanted her own family so bad. She got tired of being lonely. The only people in her life were Briana, Marlon, Magyc, and a few other close friends.
After Briana died, she felt emptiness. Though Tara was fucking her man, she still considered Briana to be the closest thing she had to a sister. Things just happened between her and Magyc.
After burying their friend, she and Magyc started spending even more time together. Despair and vulnerability had pushed them right back into the arms of each other. Tara didn’t understand why she couldn’t leave him alone. Magyc wasn’t shit. He knew it. She knew it. Hell, Marlon even knew it.
Magyc didn’t take care of his kid, he hardly spent any time with her, and he did nothing to make her feel special. Yet every time he popped up, she opened her door to him with open arms.
Magyc was worse than any drug she’d ever experimented with. She knew the harm he’d inflict, but she just couldn’t stay away.
“I ain’t ‘bout to do this with you. Besides, you just talkin’ out the side of yo’ neck. I know yo’ ass ain’t crazy.” He headed to the door with poise and confidence. Something told him Tara was just blowing smoke as usual. “Hit me when you out yo’ feelings, aight?”
“She gon’ leave yo’ stupid ass ‘cuz you don’t give a fuck about nobody but yourself, Magyc!”
Once the door closed behind him, the tears started flowing down. Tara hated herself for allowing Magyc to use and abuse her. It wasn’t fair that he flaunted Roxie and Rain, but treated her and Marlon like crap. They were there first—before the hoes, money, and street fame.
If this nigga really thinks I’mma keep taking his shit he has another thing coming. Tara knew where he and that bitch lived. And since he refused to take responsibility, she planned on broadcasting the truth herself.
14
Car ain’t got no roof…
Car ain’t got no roof…
We be in da city…
All my bitches with it…
Young Dro’s latest club banger thumped through the speakers inside Persuasions Gentlemen’s Club. They’d just recently recovered from a shooting that occurred nearly two years ago and was back up and running.
It was the same place Cameron danced at when she first moved to Georgia. In fact, it was Cam who recommended the club to Juicy after she relocated to Atlanta. There was a relatively thick crowd that night with a roster of over thirty girls. Persuasions had upgraded tremendously since reopening.
The classy upscale establishment now featured two bars on either side of the club, a brand new catwalk stage for the strippers, and high-end VIP suites. Shutting down and starting fresh was just what they needed to come back better than ever.
In the dressing room, Juicy sat at the vanity and stared at her fatigued reflection. Her conscience was heavy after Tabitha’s son was hit and killed in the parking lot that fateful afternoon.
Juicy was so grief-stricken by the death that she packed up and left her hometown the very next day. She didn’t even talk to Wayne about the whole ordeal. She just fled, desperate to escape the guilt.
Juicy felt like his loss was all her fault. If she wasn’t fucking a married man, Tabitha wouldn’t have confronted her in the parking lot, and their son wouldn’t have died.
Juicy was devastated. There were even moments when she contemplated suicide, but she never went through with it. Instead, she tried her best to pick up the pieces and move on.
In an effort to leave the past behind, Juicy blocked Wayne’s number, and avoided him at all costs. She didn’t want to be found. She didn’t want to be bothered. And most importantly, she didn’t want to deal with her problems face to face.
Juicy peeled her eyes away from the mirror and proceeded to get dressed. She was a slave to the stripping lifestyle. Since she dropped out of high school and didn’t have a GED, her occupational choices were thin.
Juicy had been dancing since the tender age of eighteen and she was hooked on it. The fast cash was addictive like the strongest drug. Every time she hit the stage in her six-inch heels it was like taking a hit.
“Bitch, you always looking like a sad ass puppy every time you come in this mothafucka,” Dynasty teased. She was a cute Puerto-Rican chick with green eyes and a diamond-shaped face. Her ass was entirely too big for her petite legs, but the niggas all loved it.
“I be having shit on my mind,” Juicy said.
Dynasty approached her at the vanity. She’d just gotten off stage and she was still topless. Her pink nipples were double pierced and she had a sun tattooed around one. Juicy had never seen anything so bizarre until she met Dynasty. She was also one of the top moneymakers in the club.
“Do a drop with me then?” Dynasty offered. She could tell Juicy needed something to take the edge off.
“Fuck it. Why the hell not?”<
br />
Dynasty went to her locker, unlocked the combination, and pulled a tiny clear bag out her purse. That bitch had so many different color tabs you would’ve thought she was the Connect.
Juicy graciously took one straight with no chaser. She tried to stay away from liquor since it made her rather aggressive. She hadn’t popped a cap in years, but right about now it may’ve been just what her nerves needed.
Fifteen minutes later, Juicy emerged from the dressing room feeling exhilarated. She looked sultry in a pink and black two-piece with rhinestones. Instead of the shaved hairstyle she normally sported, she now rocked a shoulder length bob.
Juicy entered the main club in high spirits thanks to a little MDMA boost. She planned on making some money tonight. Rent was due soon, and she needed a new set of wheels. Juicy had left her precious BMW back in her hometown. She couldn’t risk taking it along and Wayne reporting it missing. She didn’t need those problems. Besides, Juicy wouldn’t have been surprised if he hated her ass. He probably felt the same way she did, like it was all her fault. If she weren’t arguing with Tabitha, then she wouldn’t have taken her eyes off her son.
Juicy shook the thoughts off as she sashayed through the club. She felt every man’s eyes on her coke-bottle shape. She was definitely in the top five for Persuasions’ hottest dancers.
The timing was perfect since she was next on stage. Every man who was curious about her could finally watch her perform and hopefully show some generosity.
“Aight now fellas! Get’cha mothafuckin’ ones ready and welcome my girl Juicy to the stage!” the DJ announced.
