Jamila
“I feel like shit for letting her come to a gun fight without even a knife.” Puffing on the blunt Johnie refused to share, I was taking this straight to the head alone because I felt horrible. It was hard as ever trying to play it off like I didn’t know about everything once K.P. got busted. But with Rayna threatening to put her hands on Samira, I had no choice but to pop off on her. I was just lucky that Rayna kept it a secret that I knew about her pregnancy.
“We all kept that secret ’cause it wasn’t our story to tell.” Johnie sipped from the ice-cold beer I’d tossed him from my fridge. “I ain’t gonna say baby girl found out the right way, but shit, King a grown man and can handle the messiness he creates.”
“Yeah, that’s all big, man, but dealing in the girlfriend code, I fucked up big time. If she ever finds out I rolled with Rayna not telling her that he’d slipped a Mickey in ol’ girl’s belly, me and her are gonna fall out in the worst way.”
“Damn, sounds like you need to stop playing the middle and start standing your ground.” Johnie had an annoying way of keeping it real that I really wasn’t trying to hear at the time. I knew he was right, hell, I was feeding him the information to make the judgment from, but no one wants to get kicked when they’re down. “I don’t know much about the girl code, but Samira should understand you didn’t want to get mixed up in that craziness they call a relationship. She knows her man.” For once he was starting to make sense.
“Yeah, King has been throwing daggers her way their whole relationship. Couldn’t be me.” Starting to feel a little bit at ease, I realized there was nothing I could do about what had already been done. Hell, I wasn’t the one who was introducing an illegitimate seed to the family.
“My manz be on that tip one hundred grand, but I can’t call it. If I had a down-ass chick like Samira, I wouldn’t be caught dead banging no rats trying to get on. Every chick who comes through the studio doors ain’t doing nothing but checking for a come-up.”
Johnie continued to sip from his beer. He wasn’t like most of the cats I’d seen K.P. bring around. He seemed like his head was more tightly screwed to his shoulders. The more he drank down the Budweiser, the more he schooled me on how he rolled. And you know what they say: “A drunken mouth speaks with an honest tongue.” I was starting to feel his swag most because he seemed down to earth, real chill, and laid-back. Finishing the beer, he asked for another, so I took that as he was trying to pull a nightcap. No way was I turning down a vamp session with his fine ass.
“So where’d you and King meet?” I asked, sitting across from him Indian style on the leather sectional I’d just gotten on layaway. I was trying to give him a peek between my thighs. I was working with a fat monkey, but it had been experiencing a drought. I usually wasn’t into fucking with random niggas with STD rates at an all-time high, but if he made a move on me, a compromise would be made. Once my ex dipped to the snow white side of the fence, I was left to lube up my toys on a regular.
“Through a mutual friend who does beats. I’m just trying to get my name out here, ma.” Johnie was starting to get more comfortable, which made me feel more at ease too. I’d caught him peeking at my pussy imprint, which was almost dripping wet out of my panties, so I knew the chances of it getting some attention tonight were good. It had been a long time since a dude had been so close to me and smelling so good. I was still half dressed from the party, which was scanty off rip, but if things played out the way his eyes were dancing toward my voluptuous breasts, I’d be naked within the hour.
“Is that all you’re trying to get here?” I couldn’t help myself from flirting. I couldn’t blame my bluntness on the beer and weed because that would be lying. Johnie was looking sexy to me.
“What’s up, ma, you trying to put me in the game?” Licking his lips, trying to hold his grin in, he wasn’t accustomed to cutting into girls, you could tell, but he was going to take full advantage of the easy opportunity. Before I could respond making myself seem like a fool, he burst out laughing loudly like a hyena. “Let me not even set you up for a downfall. I’m about to be out. Boss man just hit me up that we’re about to hit the studio to lay down a few tracks.”
“Boy, bye. Whatever, you’ll be back.” Even with egg on my face, I wasn’t about to look crazy for thinking he wanted to get down.
“I know, so put your number in my phone so I can call when I’m on the way.” He tossed his iPhone my way. I was now the one grinning. Pushing the numbers in then entering Jamila with a heart, I didn’t care if I was doing too much. I was claiming his pretty ass.
Chapter Four
King
Me and Samira had gotten down like two freaks straight out of a porno. My dick was sore, while I knew her walls were weak from the hours of makeup sex we were having. At some point, she’d gone from fighting me off in tears to being the one riding the nut out of me. She knew what I was up to, but the way she threw her pussy back on me was confirmation enough that she was on board for at least giving our family a try.
Hearing her lightly snoring, I eased my arms from around her carefully, hoping she wouldn’t wake up. Samira simply didn’t deserve the hell I was getting ready to put her through. With the sheets and her full of my drunken cum, she would be too far in deep with me to leave. Like most girls’ trap niggas, I’d set out to trap Samira. A nigga wasn’t known to bust blanks, so she better hope I ain’t knock triplets off into that wanting womb of hers. Fully out of bed and searching for my phone, I studied her innocence once again before grabbing a fresh pair of drawers from the dresser so I could go chill out in the man cave.
I powered on my PlayStation 4 and iPhone, and it only took moments for my notifications to start blowing up. Rayna was going hard in each text, not holding her verbal thrashes back on my voicemail, and threatening to even hold our unborn child from me once she dropped him or her onto this earth. Feeling my blood pressure rising, I wasn’t in the mood to nurse her feelings or deal with another one of her threats. Rayna had gotten comfortable trying to control me with her threats, but tonight she was gonna strike out. Putting my phone on silent, I shot Johnie a text to come through here, then I set it down, picking up the controller instead. Killing a few chumps in Black Ops always put me at ease. My plan was to put Rayna on ice for a few days to make my home right. I’d never been 100 percent without my other half, Samira, so until she smiled without crying the next minute, I’d be posted right up under her.
Samira
If you’d ever woken up not knowing if you’ve truly just lived through a nightmare, then you could relate to the roller coaster I was on. Feeling I was in the bed alone, I dared to think where King was. If he wasn’t somewhere in this house though, I was sure I was about to be the number one suspect in a breaking-news story for putting a bullet through his skull. I wanted to call Jamila for an all-out girls’ venting session, but I wasn’t in the mood to hear all of her “single woman” advice. She didn’t understand the complexity of what was me and King sometimes, especially with her not having a man anymore.
I thought back on last night, and everything started to blur together. At first, me and my homegirl Mila were having a great time at King’s album release celebration party. Then we were getting dragged out kicking and screaming by two guys in King’s entourage. His right-hand man Johnie never left my side. As bad as King wanted to escort my wild, crazy, heel-hitting ass, he had to settle up with the owner on all of the tabs we’d racked up. After seeing him kissing all over Rayna, throwing the bottle, then seeing she was about to pop with a pregnancy from my fiancé, I’d lost track when he smacked me down in front of everyone at Flood’s. What did I do to deserve this? Why me? Why couldn’t he strap the fuck up or at least gun that bitch straight down to the clinic?
Already having a headache, which I contributed to, a hangover mixed with a broken heart, I tried not to think about anything more than the hopes King had gotten me pregnant too. At least with my own baby, I wouldn’t be concentrating on the li’l basta
rd I had to secretly hate. It didn’t matter what the circumstances were, that kid could be related to King all day long, it would never be kin to me. I wasn’t into playing stepmomma for a child he conceived with a rat in the streets while we were together. Judge me if you want. I’ll do me while you do you.
Getting enough strength to get up, I moved as quickly as I could to the bathroom. I’d been holding it in for hours, even in my sleep, so it was more than a wave of relief. Sticky from all of our cum, I took a quick ho bath in the sink, having to see where King had disappeared to. More than likely he was in the basement, but if he was cake baking on the phone trying to make shit cool between him and her, I’d be walking in swinging.
“A’ight, find King’s slick ass.” Speaking out loud, slipping his shirt over my head, I didn’t bother putting on panties since I was in my own house. Creeping through the house like I myself was a stranger, I didn’t want to alert him I was even up. From now on, he couldn’t be trusted to even take a leak alone. Had I kept more of a tight leash on him, Little Miss Home-wrecker wouldn’t be in the position to ruin the little family I’d work hard at keeping. Seeing the light on in the basement, I knew he’d be down there. That’s the only place he could ever find total peace.
Our house was a three-story colonial, basement included, which King reserved for his man cave and studio. His setup was sweet, and I’d put in long hours at the hospital wiping asses to make sure he got the best HDTV Best Buy sold, the most comfortable leather sectional Art Van allowed me to finance, and a decked-out bar stocked with bottles of Rëmy VSOP, Hennessy, and even Amsterdam if he was trying to get totally lit with his crew. Our house sometimes turned into the Honeycomb Hideout with his artists hanging out laying verses down. I didn’t mind putting in overtime to cash King out. Having him home meant I knew exactly where he was at all times.
Seeing him on the couch with the remote in his hand and head tilted took me back to the days when he’d first started trying to get recognized in Detroit. He’d go long and hard grinding, staying up days at a time going hard at his craft, then he would tap out just like this. Thought I wanted to go over, straddle his lap, and love all over him like I used to do, my heart couldn’t let me give in. After I had a few winks of sleep and a moment to clear my head, the feelings of betrayal were starting to sit deep in the pit of my stomach. His phone began to light up beside him, which pissed me off even more. Oh, yeah, Rayna, starting early huh? Naw, bitch, you ain’t gonna ruin my day today. I’m gonna show your ass who got the better hand, believe that!
I marched back upstairs, leaving King to sleep. With the sun starting to rise he’d be up soon enough. Going into the bathroom, I ran myself a hot bubble bath with Epsom salt so I could try to relieve my tense body. When I got done getting my body right, I’d pack for both me and him to hit I-75 to Toledo. He’d created this box he was in so today he’d have to man up. It was all or nothing. Either he could make me Mrs. Samira Wallace on demand or walk out of my life for good with the clothes on his back. ’Cause for damn sure straight he wasn’t taking nothing I copped for his ass! Sliding into the tub of water, I felt my body melting into the heat. Yup, I liked the ring of that: Mr. and Mrs. Wallace.
Rayna
King had me all the way fucked up. I’d been calling and texting his phone all night since that bitch Jamila tried to see me at Flood’s, but I guessed I wasn’t as precious as Samira. Silly me for thinking this kid I was carrying meant the world to him. Flipping the visor down to make sure my lip hadn’t started to swell again, I couldn’t wait to give birth so I could square up with ol’ girl for swinging on me. She was the fakest person out of all this, stunting hard on me like she didn’t know what was up.
As the sun started to peek through the dusk-lit sky, I circled the block of where King and Samira stayed. I knew he didn’t think I remembered where he’d taken me on one of the first few nights of us creeping, but I did. When Samira was at her study group session for her boards, I was getting all types of attention all through her crib. So here I was again. Nothing about my soul could rest not knowing where me and K.P. stood. Coming all the way around, then pulling up a few houses down from where they lived, I hoped I wouldn’t stand out on this well-to-do block. Knowing the headlights would still run, I shut the ignition off then reclined my seat to lurk more comfortably. I wasn’t leaving this house until he did, or at least until he answered my phone calls.
I rubbed my stomach. It was starting to grumble ’cause it was time for my early morning snack. I was glad I was about at the end of this pregnancy, because I was as big as a house. I didn’t know if I’d ever get my pre-pregnancy body back. “Chill out, li’l one. After I catch your daddy up, I’ll feed you.” This baby might as well get used to not coming first in my life. I’d never been the one to want children, but I always knew I’d end up having one just to keep a nigga. That’s how girls around my way played it. If a dude had money, the potential to get more money, or basically had a sponsor mentality, we’d work overtime hours wobbling on the dick to catch a seed. This baby was my way of making sure I’d never have to work for minimum wage on the line again.
Samira and King stayed near the University of Detroit area off of 7 Mile and Livernois in a house her parents left to her once they relocated down South. This area had been reserved for the more elite residents of Detroit who couldn’t quite afford to stay inside of Rosedale Park or even Grosse Pointe but still worked and paid taxes in the city. It was a lot different from my cookie-cutter subsidized housing project. I looked around to see if any neighbors noticed my beat-up silver sedan. The neighborhood was still in fairly nice condition. Every home on the block was still standing, no houses had been left vacant to deteriorate, and even the birds in their community still chirped. What in the fuck was he slumming with me for? I ain’t got no parents leaving me no houses! Not trying to dog myself out or nothing, but the two-bedroom townhouse I shared with my roommate Tiana could and rightfully should be considered a shack compared to how these two were living. Feeling a sting of jealousy spark inside of me, I wondered if my baby would ever have a green yard to play in, as opposed to just the few concrete steps right outside of my door.
Seeing his Lincoln truck tucked away in the driveway with her MKS right on his bumper, I felt tears start to build up in the corners of my eyes. I started my car back up, double-parking it directly in front of their house. If King wouldn’t answer my calls, he’d for sure pay me some attention once I stepped foot on his territory. Hotfooting it up the walkway, I knew there was no turning back. The house was quiet and still, but that wasn’t to say someone wasn’t watching. With my pistol loaded right underneath my shirt, I dared Samira or her pit bull, Jamila, to run up again. This time I wouldn’t be going down or away without a fight.
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
King
“Shit, dog, that’s my bad. I turned the phone off ’cause Rayna’s crazy ass was calling back-to-back. I’d just gotten Samira to calm down, you feel me?” Explaining to Johnie why I hadn’t been answering the phone, I sat up groggily, wiping the drool from my mouth. I needed about another good hour. Hearing my phone beep from call waiting, I held it back from my ear seeing it was Rayna calling again. Letting the call hang out there, I didn’t want her to know she was intentionally being ignored.
“I ran up out of a hot one’s crib to check in with your drunk-in-love, nutty ass, and you over there running from some shit you created? I’m about to shoot back through there ’cause I see you’re tripping.” Johnie intentionally left off that he was talking about Jamila not wanting his business put out there.
“A’ight, playboy. I heard that! What else did I miss last night?”
“Luckily that bottle Samira launched at your head. She straight shut the party down once she saw ol’ girl.” He laughed at my expense. I couldn’t even blame Johnie for finding so much humor in it. All the fellas I’d rolled with warned me about trying to live a double life, but until the joke flipped on me, everything was fun. “Naw, but
for real, I ain’t even knocked her off yet. She’s hot and ready for a nigga, though.”
“You a wild boy, J! A wild motherfucking boy! I told you those soulful lovemaking tracks was gonna have the ladies wide open.” I gave my manz his credit. Johnie was gonna have a flock of groupies jocking his every move once I produced him to be on my level. He was single with no kids plus could sing a woman out of her panties. Me and J were already making money together with plans laid out to make more. “Listen up, playboy, before you head back to tear some lucky chick off, swing through here to get these tracks I need you to lay down at the studio. I’ve gotta make things right with my lady, so I ain’t gonna be making it in to work for the next few days.” Standing up stretching, I was getting ready to make my way back upstairs to give Samira another dose of dick. I was on a baby-making spree.
“I’m bending the block now. Is shorty cooled down at least, K.P.? I ain’t trying to walk into no war zone.”
“It’s quiet around these parts for now. That’s why I’m trying to get you in and out. I’m about to open the door. One.” Hanging my phone up, then turning everything off so I wouldn’t hear Mira complain about the electricity bill, I hadn’t reached the top of the staircase before the doorbell rang twice. “This nigga right here moves like lightning speed. I told him I’d open the door. Why’d the fuck he ring the bell?” Talking out loud, all the while running to the door, I didn’t want Samira disturbed. I knew she wasn’t going to wake up on the right side of the bed for all the right reasons, so I wasn’t trying to get another red bottom heel to my dome for letting a nigga in her house at the wrong time.
Arm Candy Page 3
