The Wrath of a Side Chick: A Chicago Hood Drama (Side Chick's Wrath Book 1)

by Tamicka Higgins

  “Uh oh,” Tamar said. “Well, sounds like you just might be gettin’ a ring then.”

  Just as Tamar was about to go on, she realized she smelled a familiar smell to her left. She looked back at Monique then down at a bulge in her pockets. “Girl, do you got some good weed on you or somethin’?” Tamar asked. “I feel like I smell some good weed, girl.”

  Monique pulled the bag out of her pocket, explained how many grams it was, then stood up. She made her way over to the dining room, where she’d dropped her purse with her coat. She came back to the sectional with a strawberry Swisher Sweet.

  “You not gon’ smoke,” Trina said, looking at Tamar. “You would never smoke in a good dress like that.”

  “Girl, boo,” Tamar said, leaning in closer to Monique. “I had to beat a nigga’s ass in this good dress today. I feel like I can smoke some damn weed and live. Girl, I need it. That glass of wine wasn’t enough.”

  As Monique rolled the blunt for her and her sisters, she looked at them with anticipation. “Soo…,” she said, smiling as she licked the blunt wrapper. “Trina, you think that Breon is gon’ propose to you on your anniversary or what?”

  Trina looked at her sister then rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Naw,” she said. “I really don’t think he is.”

  “Girl, stop,” Tamar said. “Then why was he comin’ out the ring store at the mall?”

  “I don’t know,” Trina said. She shrugged her shoulders and looked away. “I don’t even wanna talk about this no more, y’all. Y’all just gon’ be gettin’ my hopes up and stuff. He probably ain’t gon’ propose to me. For all I know, he was in that ring store buying me a promise ring or something like that.”

  “Have you looked through his stuff?” Tamar asked. “That’s what I would do. Shit, any time I go home with a man for the first time, I’m looking for cameras and anything I can find that will tell me who he really is. If ain’t nothin’ with your name and address lying out on the tables, I don’t even wanna take my clothes off ‘cause I don’t know who you really are.”

  Trina playfully slapped Tamar’s shoulder. “No,” she said. “And girl, you silly. You know I’m not gon’ go lookin’ through his stuff. I trust Breon. I know I ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. You the one who’s always dating the same type of dudes. I don’t even know what you saw in Kenny anyway.”

  “Hmm, hmm,” Tamar said, shaking her head and deciding she just wasn’t even going to get into the answer for that question. “Can’t no man be trusted. Look at what I just went through. Came home, dressed like a ten, and what do I see? Some ugly ass bitch rushin’ out the door with dick on her breath. I’m tellin’ you, you need to be findin’ out what he’s up to.”

  Monique finished rolling the blunt and announced that it was ready. Trina grabbed her lighter on the dining room table, by the candles, then rushed over to the balcony door. She slid it open as they lit the blunt.

  “You sure about this, Tamar?” Trina asked. “You know how you get when you get to feelin’ a little high and stuff.”

  Tamar squinted at Trina and pressed her lips together. “Girl, please,” she said. “You the one we need to worry about. You be hearing shit when we smoke. Remember that time when—”

  “Hush your mouth,” Trina said, trying to not laugh. “Hush right now, Tamar.” She knew that her sister was about to go into that same story she always told—the story where they were teenagers and had gotten ahold of some Colombian weed while in Indianapolis for a party. To say the least, Trina was flying high for the better part of three days after that.

  The three sisters smoked the blunt as they caught up. Monique, however, was a little silent when it came to her love life. She didn’t like talking about it too much because she knew it was so lackluster compared to her sisters’. She was trying to change that, but luck hadn’t really been on her side. As they talked, Trina thought more and more about Breon. Every so often, she looked at her phone and wondered when and if he was going to text her. He always texted her when he was out and about without her. However, tonight was different; it was the first night that she hadn’t heard anything from him.

  Tamar noticed that Trina was looking at her phone. “Oh God,” she said, shaking her head. “Now you over here bein’ a hopeless romantic and stuff. Good grief, I knew I shouldn’t have let you smoke. I just knew it.”

  “Girl, what are you talkin’ about now?” Trina asked. “You the one who shouldn’t be smoking. You already had a glass of wine and stuff, and now you over there getting faded.”

  “I was born faded,” Tamar said, picking up her glass of wine and having another sip. “Girl, I don’t know what the fuck you talkin’ about. But I can tell that you over there thinking about Breon and stuff. Don’t even try to say that you not.”

  “Okay, okay,” Trina said. “I am. I’m just wondering why I haven’t heard from him yet. He always texts me when he’s out without me.”

  “Girl, he ain’t thinking about you,” Tamar said.

  Monique reached passed Trina and slapped Tamar on the leg. “Why you say that?”

  “Oh, don’t you start Miss Tacky!” Tamar said.

  Monique rolled her eyes and stood up. Once she caught her balance, she looked at her sister with her hands on her hips. “Look, Stella,” she said, referring to the way her mother called Tamar Stella when they were growing up because her favorite movie was How Stella Got Her Groove Back. “I’m not gon’ just sit here while you call me all sorts of names, like tacky and stuff. I don’t know who the fuck you think you is, but girl, you not better than me. Tonight, that man you got showed you that.”

  Trina’s mouth formed an O shape as she was surprised at the dig Monique had just gotten on Tamar. “Now, now, Monique,” she said. “You ain’t have to say all that.”

  “Naw, yes I did,” Monique said. “She always talkin’ shit like she better than somebody or somethin’.”

  “Monique, calm down,” Tamar said, rolling her eyes. “You know that I don’t think I’m better than you.” She paused and looked away and up toward the ceiling, taking another sip from her wine. “I’ve just got more class.”

  Monique huffed and puffed, causing Trina to get up and stand between the two of them. “I knew I shouldn’t have had y’all over here,” she said. “Y’all can’t be in the same room without getting into it and stuff.”

  Monique flipped her blonde weave away from her head as she turned and walked toward the balcony door. “Girl, boo,” she said. “She started it.”

  “Yeah, blame me,” Tamar said.

  Trina looked at Tamar with serious eyes. “Girl, why don’t you stop?” she asked.

  Tamar looked at her sister. “Okay, okay,” she said. “I’m sorry, Monique. You’re not tacky or anything like that. Girl, you know I was just playin’ with you.” Tamar then stood up. “Why don’t we go somewhere?”

  “Go somewhere like where?” Trina asked. “Girl, do you see what time it is? Where in the hell would you be try’na go? And why you wanna go anywhere anyway?”

  “‘Cause, that Breon of yours is out and about, ain’t he?” Tamar asked. “Shit, since he’s somewhere, why don’t we go somewhere and do a little something? I don’t even care if we just go to the damn Walmart or something. I think it’d be better than sitting around here.”

  Monique turned toward her two sisters and smiled, her eyes red from the weed. “Walmart?” she asked, a look of excitement on her face.

  Tamar shook her head. “How’d I know?” she asked out loud. “How in the world did I know?” Tamar looked her sister up and down, knowing that she always loved to shop at Walmart, even if she could afford better. “Anyway, shit, let’s all go to Walmart or something. I’ll drive.” She walked over to the dining room and grabbed her purse as she slid into her coat. “Come on, y’all.”

  Trina and Monique followed suit. Both of them grabbed their purses and coats. Within five minutes, the three sisters were headed out the door. Outside, the wind howled as it rushed in from
the east—from Lake Michigan. With it came snow drifts lifted off of the ground, causing snow to blow sideways.

  “You sure about this?” Trina asked, thinking about Breon as the three of them climbed into Tamar’s late model, black Tahoe. “I mean, ain’t it supposed to snow tonight some more?”

  “Yeah, it is,” Tamar said, pulling out of the parking spot. “Girl, this is Chicago. You act like dealing with the damn snow is something that is new to you or something. Sit back and just enjoy the ride, okay?”

  Trina did just that as Tamar drove to the nearest Walmart, which was slightly outside of what many would call the inner-city Chicago area. As luck would have it, the parking lot wasn’t all that full. This allowed Tamar to pull her Tahoe into a parking spot close to the entrance. Inside, the customers were rather spread out. On top of all that, there were not a lot of children running around, which Tamar liked. Monique, like a kid in a candy store, grabbed a shopping cart and basically led the way. Any and everything she wanted to look at, she did. If she wanted something, she threw it into the cart and kept on moving.

  When they were in the women’s clothing section, Monique and Trina had been looking at some cute shirts that even Trina would consider wearing. The two noticed that their older sister Tamar had been standing out in the aisle for several minutes. Her attention was clearly focused to the right, causing Monique and Trina to step out of the clothing and look at where their sister was looking.

  “Girl, why you mean muggin’ like that?” Monique asked.

  “Yeah, Tamar,” Trina said. “What the hell is your problem?”

  Without speaking, Tamar pointed down the aisle. “It really is a small world, ain’t it?”

  “What you talkin’ about, Tamar?” Monique asked.

  Tamar continued being rather tight lipped, holding both of her sisters’ attention. She looked with cold eyes at a female at the other end of the store. “Hold up right quick,” she said. “I need to go down here and see if this is who I think it is. I don’t know, but I’m almost sure it’s that bitch. Wait right here and I’ll be right back.”

  Trina and Monique looked at one another, both wondering who it was at the other end of the aisle. They stood there, looking in wonderment as Tamar marched right on down the aisle. Within seconds, she was up close and personal with the chick.

  “Bitch, I thought it was you!” they could hear Tamar yelling. “You dick suckin’ bitch!”

  “Oh no,” Trina said, shaking her head. She and Monique looked at one another, knowing that the woman at the other end of the aisle was the side chick that Tamar had run into when she’d gotten back to her apartment. Quickly, Trina and Monique rushed down the aisle. There, they found Tamar waving her arm about in the air as she went in on the woman.

  “Bitch, don’t try to act like you don’t know who I am!” Tamar said. “I saw you coming outta my apartment when I got home earlier, spit and stuff all around your mouth from sucking his dick like it was your last meal or something. I come here all the time with Kenny, or, should I say, I used to.”

  “Lady, who are you?” the girl, who looked to be quite a few years younger than Tamar, asked.

  “Lady?” Tamar asked, outraged because she knew exactly what being called lady meant. “Bitch, you lucky. You just don’t know how lucky you are. If I didn’t have too much to lose, I’d beat that ass right here in this store, right in front of all these people and your manager.”

  The chick, who looked a lot like a younger version of the singer K. Michelle, laughed it off. “Girl, you won’t bust a grape,” she said, rolling her eyes. “If you was gon’ do something, you woulda did the shit when I was comin’ out of the apartment. And plus, with these hard ass floors in this Walmart, you know if you fell, you’d break a hip or something.” She laughed out loud and shook her head, grabbing her stomach from it being just so funny. “Girl, you too funny. Too much to lose. But you couldn’t keep from losing that nigga you got, could you? I heard about them cobwebs you got down there.”

  At this point, Tamar was ready to go as if she were in the streets. She slid out of her high heel shoes, showing Trina and Monique that she was about to go hard or go home. Quickly, Trina grabbed her sister’s arm and pulled her back. “Not here, Tamar,” she said. “Not here. She just a side chick. It ain’t even worth all that. Girl, it just ain’t worth it.”

  Trina became a little more forceful in her demeanor as she pulled Tamar away from the girl. Her sister was literally two seconds away from jumping on the girl. Trina couldn’t watch it go down and watch her sister risk her career goals by going to jail and being charged with assault and battery. Reluctantly, as the managers and security were approaching the aisle, Monique abandoned her shopping cart. The three of them walked toward the door as quickly as they could, praying that none of the white people watching had called the police. All Trina could do was roll her eyes, thanking God that she’d never been involved in such a messy situation over some man. Little did she know, however, this would soon change.

  CHAPTER 3

  When Breon pulled off from Wayne’s neighborhood, he was feeling some sort of high. While he hadn’t smoked, or even drank, while at Wayne’s house for the welcome-home party, his manhood told a different story. After trading numbers with Nikki then watching Nikki and her big booty jump down out of his SUV, practically bouncing when she landed, he made sure to sit in the parking spot until she was safely inside of her car. Once she pulled off, Breon pulled off as well.

  Out on the busy street, Breon felt himself getting hot. The inside of his SUV had already fogged up from all of his breathing. Not being able to take it anymore, Breon lowered the window just a couple of inches to allow some air inside. What he really wanted to do was lower his pants again so his crotch could dry out; however, he knew he’d better wait to get home to do such a thing. The last thing he needed was to be a black man being pulled over with his pants down. There was no telling how that would go for him.

  “Fuck!” Breon yelled, not being able to wipe away the smile from his face. “That bitch can suck dick.”

  Breon thought back to the rumors he’d heard about Nikki and her “oral skills.” He now knew that they were not rumors but rather well-known facts. While Trina was indeed the kind of chick who would give her man oral pleasure, Nikki definitely blew her out of the water in that department. She could deep throat; she never took her mouth off of his pipe. She gagged and did it in such a way that was music to Breon’s ears. It had taken him a good twenty minutes to finally let loose inside of Nikki’s mouth. And for twenty minutes, she never once lifted her head up. He loved to look down and see a chick really giving it her all. Nowadays, that had become so hard to find. He made sure to get her phone number and save it under one of his aunts’ names, so that Trina wouldn’t know what was up should she decide to look through his phone.

  “Shit, a nigga is gon’ have to hit her up when he get a chance,” Breon said to himself.

  Breon thought about his boy Ray. Ray had hit him up earlier, during the day. He was trying to chill. The two of them had been practically the best of friends for the last two years, since Ray had moved next door to him. However, as of late, Ray had been having problems with a couple of the mothers of his five children. He was behind in child support with two of them. And one was rather bitter—the kind of chick who would have him sitting in jail on any given weekend.

  Breon pushed past the sheepish feeling that any dude gets after orgasming inside of a chick’s mouth and pulled his phone out of his coat pocket. Keeping his eyes on the road ahead, as best he could, he looked down and scrolled through his contacts until he came across Ray’s name. He tapped it, looking at the time. “This nigga betta still be up,” he said to himself, thinking that he could stop by and chill with his boy for a second. There was no doubt in his mind that Trina was still hanging with her sisters. And he was more than happy to allow her all the time she needed, especially when it came to being around Tamar. Breon tried his hardest to like the oldest sis
ter, but she made it so difficult with her uppity attitude.

  “So now you wanna remember a nigga?” Ray answered the phone, saying, “I thought you had gone and done forgot about a nigga or some shit.”

  “Nigga, don’t start with that shit,” Breon said, smiling. “What the fuck you up to? I bet you got one of them hoes with you, don’t you?”

  “Don’t call my women hoes,” Ray said. “I call them friends with benefits who don’t ask for much.”

  Breon broke into laughter as he headed toward the highway. “Oh, is that what you call them?” he asked, sarcastically. “So, anyway, nigga, what the fuck you up to? I’m just leavin’ my buddy Wayne’s house and I was thinkin’ that we could finally chill… Just for a second, ‘cause you know I gotta go home.”

  “And that is exactly why I don’t have no chick,” Ray said, confidently. “I ain’t gotta be nowhere unless I wanna be. And when I do, it’s usually a fat ass with a pussy underneath that is waitin’ on a nigga’s dick to be there. Shit, I’m just at home chillin’. I thought about goin’ out for a second and shit earlier, but I stepped outside and you know how I feel about this weather up here in Chicago. This shit is too brutal for me.”

  Ray had grown up in Louisiana, in New Orleans to be precise. However, like many families, his had fallen victim to Hurricane Katrina in 2005. At first, his family had relocated to nearby Baton Rouge. However, once his mother had gotten a better paying job up in Chicago, she moved the family up there and Ray had lived there ever since.

  “Nigga, stop all that bitchin’,” Breon said. “Shit, if you up for it, I can stop by for a sec and shit and we can chill.”

  “Bet,” Ray said. “I got that good shit in today, too. You gon’ like this shit.”

  “Nigga, I gotta still be able to drive when I leave there,” Breon said. “So don’t be gettin’ a nigga too fucked up to where I’m out here causin’ car accidents and shit, okay?”