“Umph, thirty-five percent. Do you have a charger in this monstrosity?” I questioned, looking at the center console.
He nodded towards the dashboard.
“Umph, a charging pad. I see you,” I cooed, placing my phone on it. Instantly, it began charging.
“Damn all that, what was that shit back at the hospital? I usually ain’t one foe idle conversations, but it’s something bout yo bright ass,” he questioned.
Sucking my teeth, the nerve of his ass, I thought.
“Um, don’t be calling me light bright, when your ass is white. What’s brighter than yah ass?” I sassed.
“Hold yo arm out,” he stated.
I did. He put his arm beside mine.
“You see that shit? Yo ass either needs some sun, or yo background is wrong. Yo ass is lighter than me, light bright. Stop distracting and talk,” he teased, then got serious.
“Shut up, maybe it’s your background that ain’t right. You ever thought about that?” I clapped back.
“Yeah, I have. Stop stalling, talk,” he answered, simply.
“Okay, you know when I left the hospital and everything, since you did pick me up? Well, you also know I locked myself in my condo to heal. Once my self-imprisonment started, I began thinking about what you said to me. Every word that fell from your beautiful lips was the truth. How did Jameson know I was in the hospital? How did my mama know? Those two questions kept running through my head.
I couldn’t come up with a logical reason, despite what I told you. Jameson called me to check up on me. I asked him again how did he know I was in the hospital. His answer changed. While I was in the hospital for those four days, he came by everyday trying to force me to be with him. He didn’t want to talk about why I’m the way that I am. Why the hell I did what I did. All he wanted was for me to accept being his woman. He told me if I did become his, he’d forget everything I have ever done in my past. Well, since I met him,” I paused.
He glanced from me to the highway, then slightly nodded.
“I actually apologized to him. I let him know in no way did I mean to lead him on. I told him I was through, and needed time for myself. He wasn’t trying to hear anything I had to say. I reiterated it to him more than once. I even went as far as to tell him I don’t love myself, and that’s something I needed to learn how to do before I could be with anybody,” pausing again to allow my words to sink in.
It was hard admitting to myself that I didn’t love myself, and the situation ship I placed myself in, I’d picked up on a pattern. As long as I was looking no less than perfect, while having men, both broke, and paid, fawn over me, I was feeling myself. But once I let the façade go, I took off everything that made me perfect to the world. I felt ugly and unworthy. I knew that wasn’t healthy.
“Are you hungry? I can hit a Chick-Fil-A before we get good on the interstate,” he offered, breaking through my thoughts.
“Yes, I am. Thank you,” I responded.
“I told you, I got you,” he mumbled, causing me to smile slightly at his thoughtfulness.
“Racks, you have been on my mind, on my brain, since you kissed me and spoke my truths. Well, after I let Jameson know how I felt, he said, ‘Okay, I understand.’ There was something that lingered in his words though. Two weeks after my hospital stay, I began feeling restless in my self-imprisonment. I had gotten tired of feeling sorry for myself. So, I decided to return back to work.
The following Monday, I did just that. Leaving my home, I walked to my totally fixed car. Again, thank you, you didn’t have to do that. I greatly appreciated it though. Any who, stepping into my parking lot, on my car was a teddy bear, a jewelry box, and three single red roses. The shit freaked me out, especially when I read the note. Which said, ‘You have had your time. I’m no longer waiting. I’m your man, you are my woman. No other men will be involved especially some white motherfucker. Love Jameson.’
Racks, that shit shook me to my core. I’ve never been stalked. I threw everything away. I went to work, did my job, then returned home. The same items that I threw away that morning, was placed in front of my door.”
“That security ain’t worth a damn, huh? Wha’chu want?” He questioned, interrupting me.
Looking over, I noticed we were finally to the mic to order. Chick-Fil-A stays busy.
“Number one with a Sprite,” I relayed to him.
He nodded, placing our orders. He receive the total, along with being told to pull forward, and what vehicle he’s behind in line. He pulled forward, then slightly reclined in his seat. Racks is one sexy ass man, that I could never lie on. Everything about him says he’s that man. He eyed me intensely before,
“What the fuck caused you to put a restraining order on old boy?” He questioned.
Sighing, I held his eye contact, although his wavered slightly so he could pull up.
“He tried to attack me. He was actually waiting on me one evening when I got off from work. He was standing at my door holding a wine bottle, some flowers, a gift bag, and a stuffed dog. I went off on his ass. He didn’t appreciate my words. He wanted in my condo, but I wasn’t having it. He forcefully grabbed me, trying to make me open my door and let him in. Our noise caused one of my neighbors to open her door.
He had me pinned against my door, with his large hand around my neck. He tried to act as if we were having an intimate moment, but I wouldn’t let his ass. I threatened to call the police. He left me with the words, ‘We ain’t over. We’ll never be over.’ I called the police, filed charges, and got a restraining order. The charges were dropped, due to my witness not seeing the whole thing. Along with Jameson explaining it away as a misunderstanding between us. They did that his words against mine bullshit. I was granted the restraining order though. I also know he received it too,” I explained.
“Thank you,” he spoke, after receiving our food.
“Thank you,” I accepted my food.
“No problem. Why you ain’t call me?” He questioned, pulling off.
Pulling my food out the bag stalling. I know exactly why I didn’t call him. I just don’t know if I can tell him while holding my head high.
“Kimmy, I’ll never judge yo ass. I know I spoke shit to yo ass, although the shit is the truth, I’m here foe yo ass. Now, shape the hell up,” he added.
“Really?” I questioned, with my eyebrow raised.
He just shrugged, like I could take it or leave it, either way, the shit won’t change. Taking a bite of my biscuit, while popping a few hash browns in my mouth. Chewing with relish, I didn’t realize how hungry I really was until this moment.
“I didn’t call you or Preshus. I couldn’t let y’all see me again, not after once again being abused by a man. I felt like I brought it on myself. Shit, in a way I did. I was ashamed, okay,” I mumbled out.
My words were met by silence. I peeked at him from under my lashes. He was eating and focusing on the highway at the same damn time. He swallowed, before glancing at me.
“I ain’t never been one foe sugarcoating shit, yo ass knows that tho. Yo ass don’t deserve to be attacked by no muthafucka, in any kind of way. I have no respect foe muthafuckas who do that shit. Had yo ass told me, Jameson would’ve been a distant memory, like that fucker who attempted to rape you. You didn’t bring shit on yo’self. You can’t be held accountable foe what emotional summabitches do. All yo ass can do now is learn from the shit. Be the fuckin’ woman yo grandma was attempting to raise yo ass to be,” he preached, in true Racks fashion.
Sighing, I finished off my food, while sipping my soda to wash it all down.
“Well, along with all of that, there’s something else that happened, a couple of things really. Both of them, I’m sure you can help me with,” I started.
“Yo ass ain’t on no bullshit, are you? I ain’t built foe that shit. I’ll fuck yo lil’ world up,” he stated, cutting me off.
I didn’t even recoil at his words, I already know that.
“Yeah, I know, and I’m not.
First, since I hadn’t heard from Kenya since I left the hospital, which at first wasn’t real surprising, but as time went on, I began to worry. So, I went by her house, pulling into the driveway, I noticed her car was still there. Using my key, I let myself into the house.
Nothing was disturbed from the living room. As I walked through the house, I took note that her purse, along with her cell, was gone. That did nothing but confuse me, while putting a thought in my head. I thought,
‘Oh, her selfish ass out of town with some man, and didn’t think enough of me to let me know.’
I began going through her shit to see if I could find something that would tell me where the hell she went. Well with me being nosy, I found more than I wanted to. In a shoe box, under her bed, I came across some envelopes, letters, and pictures.
Kenya knew who exactly who my biological father is. Not only that, she got pregnant with me because she was paid to by my father’s wife. She was supposed to seduce him then, turn the evidence over to the wife. The wife wanted to file for divorce from my father, but couldn’t, without walking away with nothing due, to a prenup she signed. But with evidence of his infidelity, the prenup would be null and void.
Kenya, being the conniving, money hungry woman that she is, she flipped the script. She went to my father, and told his ass the whole plot, while blackmailing his ass. He paid her off. She turned the evidence over to him. He made her sign some confidentiality papers that stated she wouldn’t reveal to anyone the identity of my father, especially to me,” I paused, closing my eyes.
Stumbling upon those papers, then reading them, gave my ass a headache that lasted three damn days. I never thought Kenya was so devious. She actually recorded conversations between herself and her conspirator, then had them transcribed. I couldn’t wrap my head around the type of woman that Kenya truly is. Like, why was she the type of woman that she is? It didn’t come from my grandmother, her mother. Kenya never spoke on her past, and how she grew up. She never spoke on loving a man or anything.
“Aiight, beautiful, what part do you need my help with?” He questioned, breaking my train of thought.
I sighed, while playing with my straw.
“In another letter that was addressed to me, it stated that my father is dying. He changed his Will, leaving me five million dollars, a house worth one point five million dollars, along with some stocks worth about three point five million dollars. His wife found out he changed his Will. She doesn’t want me to have anything. From my understanding, my father’s wife was barren, and I’m an only bloodline child. They adopted a daughter and son.
There’s a stipulation in the Will that if I was dead, my next of kin would receive my inheritance. All of the shit made me wonder. Kenya is missing in action, her connection to Jameson, my beat down by Todd, all came flooding back to me. Do you think Kenya would pay someone to kill me?” I finished, looking at the side of his head.
Reading his movements, his hands were clinching the steering wheel while his right eye jumped. Something I said had struck a nerve with him. I’m almost afraid to know what nerve, and how bad.
Racks
“Do you think Kenya would pay someone to kill me?”
As bad as I want to tell her no, she wouldn’t, I can’t. The things she’s revealed got me looking at her differently. My hired eye missed out on the attack in the hallway of her condo. If it had taken place in the parking lot, it would’ve been all over with.
With what she’s told me, Kenya lied to Stone and me. Once she started talking as she stood in the room with the frogs, Stone didn’t prompt her to speak. In a small voice, she tried to come off as innocent as she said,
“Kimmy’s biological father’s wife found out about her. She wasn’t happy. She sent people to kill Kimmy, so she wouldn’t get what her father left her. Kimmy’s father is dying.”
Her little story was vague as hell, and a big ass lie. I eyed her as she avoided my eyes.
“See, we gave yo ass the chance to tell the truth, you just fucked that up. Yo ass hired someone to kill yo daughter, they fucked up tho. You offered them two million dollars, so somehow, yo ass was anticipating some money, a big pay day. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, that’s a sorry fucker who lies,” I snapped, pushing the button on the wall.
The frogs started croaking and jumping. She started yelling and crying.
“Okay, okay, make them stop! I have a life insurance policy on Kimmy. I really need that money. I’m in a bad way wit a loan shark. If I don’t pay up, he’s gonna kill me. I’m telling you the truth on the wife. She wanted Kimmy dead. She’s hateful, spiteful, and evil. I couldn’t let that happen, so I told her I would hire some people. She figured I was still on my money schemes. Who I hired tho wasn’t gonna kill Kimmy. We were gonna fake her death, so I could get her life insurance money. That’s the truth,” she pleaded, wit her eyes full of tears.
“You ah muthafuckin’ lie,” Stone barked, causing her to jump bout a foot in the air.
“How much is the policy for?” I questioned.
“Um, five million dollars. I promise, y’all, I didn’t mean any harm. I just, sometimes, I let money make me do stupid shit. I love my daughter. I would never hurt her. She’s all I have left in this world,” she begged, lying even more.
I stared at her, not saying a word. Stone stepped back, cause he knew what I was doing. She tried holding my eyes, but they kept wavering. I just stared. I wasn’t blinking until I saw what I wanted to see. She began fidgeting. Stone mouthed something, no words really, I nodded, as if he did. She took it as him telling me to let her go. She smiled, then smirked, in that moment, I saw everything that I needed. I pushed the button, and the frogs began croaking louder, before jumping on her. She screamed as they bit her then, a weird smell released from them. She froze, completely paralyzed, with her eyes wide. Slowly, her organs started failing, as she fell to the floor. Her bladder and bowels released, making a worse mess as she died. I eyed her chest as it fell one last time, expelling her last breath.
I didn’t feel shit. Her ass didn’t deserve to breathe air anymore. She had no remorse for trying to kill her only daughter. All of her life, Kimmy was only money to her. She didn’t love her. Instead of raising her to be a real woman, she laid her hoe commandments on her, manipulating her to be something she should have never been.
“Racks, where did you go?”
Her voice broke through my thoughts. Looking at her for a few beats, she looks so outta sorts. Taking a deep breath, I releasing it slowly.
“She would, she did, she’s dead,” I answered.
Glancing towards her then the highway.
“Shit,” I hissed, as her breathing picked up.
Fuck, I should’ve taken a damn oxygen tank, I thought, as I sped up to the next rest area. Pulling over, I parked without turning my truck off. Unbuckling her seatbelt, I pulled her outta her seat easily, placing her on my lap. She ain’t nothin’ heavy, well, not to me. Guiding my seat all the way back so we can be semi comfortable, I cracked the window although the air is on.
“Breathe, beautiful. Don’t pass the hell out. Remember my warning, that bitch ain’t changed. Take a deep breath,” I coaxed, causing her to take a deep breath.
“Release it.”
She did.
“Again.”
She did.
“You feel better now?” I questioned.
She nodded.
“Nawl, beautiful, I need words,” I insisted.
She licked her lips, before taking another deep breath.
“Yes, I’m fine. Tell me everything, Racks,” she requested.
Leaning my head on the head rest, I started talking. Informing her of everything that took place, from the parking garage at the hospital, ‘til her mama took her last breath. Finishing, I waited for the hysterics, crying, screaming, something. That ain’t what the fuck I got though, instead, I got her soft lips pressed against mine.
Placing one hand on her thigh while maneuvering her, causing
her to straddle me. I’m glad she’s so much smaller than me. Not too small, she’s thick, toned, and plush. Her height is just right, at five seven, I fall out at six five and some change. I’ve always been mostly attracted to women on the thicker side.
Shidd, I’ll damn near fuck any type of pussy, my dick is an equal opportunistic muthafucka. I’ve always received the most pleasure from the thicker women. They could handle all of me without acting like I was killing they asses. Yeah, that bullshit bout white men having lil dicks is a fucking myth. I’ve proved plenty of naysayers wrong, had they asses being rushed to the emergency room, with their uterus hanging between their legs. Fuck wit me.
“Fuck, hol’ up, beautiful. Wha’ yah ass thinking?” I questioned, breaking the kiss.
“What?” She squeaked out, confused, while catching her breath.
“What do yo ass want? Do yo ass just want the dick? I know I ain’t another trick, fuck that. Yo ass gots to know I don’t play games. We can fuck, and that’ll be it. I just need to know what the fuck yo ass wants. The truth, Kimmy,” I clarified.
Her lil’ ass done been in my head. Got my ass all out of character and shit. She better speak the real.
“Racks, this is where I want to be. You’ve given me something I’ve never received from any man. You’re blunt, you’re real, and you truly care about me. You looked beyond my cover, read my pages with accuracy. Although it made me feel exposed at the time, I’m over it now, I began appreciating what you said to me.
Preshus has said the same things, but they didn’t register like your words did. I want to take a chance with you. I’m not even mad about the death of Kenya. She wanted me gone over money. I now realize that’s all I ever been to her. You wasn’t with the bullshit of her ass killing me and took her out, once again, something else you didn’t have to do. You’re my protector. I’m grateful for that act of kindness. Also, that showed me that I’m in your heart in some sort of way. So, Racks-”
“Conrad,” I interrupted.
“Seriously? Conrad? Um, Racks, will you have me?” She questioned, eyeing me funny.
King of The Hood 3 Page 7
