“Hold up, Negro, you can’t come around here calling no shots. I won’t smoke with him in the room, but I’m gonna fa’damn sure blaze my trees.” Rayna reminded me why I kept her playing in the backfield.
“Don’t think for one minute I won’t go upside your head over K.J., Rayna. Whatever you do you better make sure it’s well received on my end.” I finished making sure my outfit was back crisp so I could leave. This conversation was dead, plus my appointment with Johnie was in a few.
“Whatever, K.P.” She popped her gum, pulling a half-smoked blunt from the ashtray. “I might as well smoke up while li’l man ain’t here, since I’ll be in jail in my own residence once he’s well enough to come home.” Her words sounded spiteful.
It was in both of our best interests that I got up out of there as fast as possible. If only Rayna kept her mouth full of dick instead of words we wouldn’t have constant problems. Her mothering my child was gonna have to stay monitored.
* * *
“What up, bro? I’m about to drop a few singles off at the radio station. What time do you wanna meet up at the studio?” Pulling out of Rayna’s projects, I hit Johnie on his cell to make sure he wouldn’t be late. We hadn’t touched bases with each other since he left to visit Jamila.
“I see you’re up making moves for that dough,” he groggily spoke.
“Big things need to happen with our next mixtape, so every day gotta be close to a twenty-four-seven grind.”
“I can dig it.” Johnie yawned. “I’ve been locked down since last night with Jamila, so it’s gonna be at least an hour before I’m up and out.”
“No problem, you good.” I scratched my head, remembering Jamila and I had to talk. “Make it tonight at eight. That’ll give me enough time to take care of everything with Rayna and Junior.”
“A’ight, bet. I’ll make sure to pump the promotions up on my end. Everything straight on the home front with Samira and Rayna?”
“Hell naw,” I replied, exasperated. “Low-key, I think shit has gotten worse. I was so caught up in trying to do the right thing for my son’s sake that I fucked around and forgot how rat-acting Rayna can be. I should’ve never shaded Samira for that girl.” My reservations about Johnie might’ve been piqued because of Jamila’s call, but I needed someone to vent to. Besides, if he was on some fake shit, he already knew too much of my dirt for this epiphany to matter. There was no reason to hide my hand. All the cards I’d been holding were played.
“Damn, chief, that’s fucked up. You better hope ya wife can forgive your faults and welcome your sorry ass back home.” His words gave me little hope.
“Samira’s been holding me down for a long time, so I can’t see her stopping now.” I held on to the past.
“That don’t mean she’s about to continue playing a fool.” He crossed the line.
Perhaps there was more validity and background behind Rayna’s warnings than I gave her credit for. “Just maybe.” I cut the conversation short. “I’m pulling up at the station so I’ll get at you in a few.” From this point on, my dialogue with Johnie was gonna be strictly contractual.
Before going into the station, I called Rayna, informing her of the change in plans and that I’d be back within the next twenty minutes. She yelped, giddy with joy, then hung up, promising to be ready. I couldn’t tell if she was more excited about seeing our son or shopping in plain sight with me. Nonetheless, I had obligations to fulfill. I opened the door to 107.5. The more I moved up in the music game, the further apart Samira and I grew.
Jamila
I’d just stepped fresh and clean out of the shower when I heard Johnie talking on the phone. At first, I thought he was talking to another girl, maybe even Samira. Then I heard him speaking on business and figured it was King. Listening to them kick it about Rayna and Samira had me feeling some sort of way.
I held on to my towel as I lurked near my bedroom door. The more words of wisdom Johnie called himself sharing, the sicker I became to my stomach. Unbeknownst to King, he was getting mocked.
Johnie sounded like a hater. He wasn’t cheering King on when it came to him making things right with his wife. In my opinion, he sounded like he wanted King out of the picture so he could make more moves with Samira. That left me as the runner-up again.
After putting it on him four or five times like a seasoned porn star, I still wasn’t topping his charts as the woman to be with. Johnie wasn’t shit but an opportunist, and I foresaw all of us gettin’ played if we kept him within the circle. Maybe he and Samira were better for one another than I initially thought.
“Damn, girl, whip that towel off and climb your caramel ass back in this bed.” Johnie pulled the covers back eagerly.
Had I not heard and formed my own opinion from his conversation, I would’ve leaped in headfirst. But I was on to something new. “Boy, bye. You’ve put enough miles on my pussy without paying a bill, taking me on a shopping spree, or at least out on a date. There are plenty of dudes checking for a chick of my caliber.” I tried my hand at doubling my worth.
Throwing my hand on my hip, I shifted my weight to the side while waiting on his response. The only way I’d deviate from kicking him out was if he came with something better than hard dick.
Johnie
“Well naw, this ain’t that.” I leaped from her bed and into my clothes. “I’m sorry if you got things misconstrued, Jamila, but I wasn’t trying to make you my woman or no shit like that. I thought we were just having a little fun.”
“A little fun? You’ve got to be kidding me.” She sounded shocked and embarrassed. “What were the flowers for then? Why’d you even bother?” She was steaming hot with anger.
“All women love flowers. I figured it was a nice gesture to butter you up for playing you to the left.” I kept it real at her expense. I didn’t care about sparing her feelings. There was no reason to.
Jamila flew out of her bedroom without saying a word. I was too busy into my phone trying to see what hot-tail I could get into next to notice her come back with the vase and flowers in hand.
“Get the fuck out of my house, you dirty-dick bastard motherfucker!” She hurled the vase in my direction, and it crashed against my shoulder right after all the flowers and water splashed against my face. “Butter that up, bitch.” She didn’t flinch.
“Bitch, I oughta split your head to the white meat.” I balled up my fists, feeling heat pumping through my veins.
“It’s nothing. I’m sure your little music blogs would love to hear about your little love-song-singing ass being a woman beater.” She deviously smiled.
Raising my hands, I surrendered to her initial request. “We good, Jamila. You ain’t even gotta take it that far, ’cause I’m good as gone.”
“Well hurry up and get gone quicker.” She had to have the final word.
I knew what time it was. Jamila definitely wasn’t the type of chick you could trick with from time to time. Whatever nigga she caught slipping would for sure regret raw-dogging in her. I labeled types like her entrapments. You’d catch a kid, a case, or a concussion dealing with they assess.
Hearing her threats, I wasn’t willing to risk losing everything I’d worked hard for plus was trying to steal from underneath King’s nose because of her tired-pussy ass. She could view me like a punk if she wanted to. I was bowing out gracefully, right on out of her house.
Chapter Sixteen
Samira
Running through Target, I stocked my buggy with all types of items I could find for King and Rayna’s baby. None of this was part of my plan in teaching him a lesson about stepping out on me. Nevertheless, I needed to give him a reason to come home.
He’d sneaked in, packing at least a week’s worth of clothes while I was gone, so I knew he was serious about needing a break. What type of newlywed husband needed a break so soon from his marriage? I thought we might’ve been two steps from an annulment. True to my inner being, I was upset about him having a baby on me, but not enough to give him up to Ra
yna, especially when it was down to divorce.
Checking all of the items off of her registry plus some, I’d gotten King Jr. one of damn near everything they had on sale for newborns. As badly as I didn’t want to, I was aiming for stepmother of the year. If King saw my efforts and that I’d at least played the game, he’d remember that my loyalty and love ran deep.
Ring! Ring! Ring!
Holding the cashier up, I answered my phone showing Johnie’s number. I wondered why he was calling. Even if he and Rayna put two and two together that I was the one who tampered with her car, he shouldn’t have been the one to reach out.
“Hello,” I answered casually.
“Hey, beautiful, I was just calling to check in on you.” Johnie sounded convincingly concerned.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m good,” I spoke with the least bit of emotion. If I thought I was feeling Johnie before, I was turned off and repulsed by him now. He was fuckin’ my girl, and I didn’t play sloppy seconds, believe that!
“You’re good? How so? You found another one of King’s artists to stroke that kitty?”
I almost dropped my shopping bags hearing Johnie put me on blast. “No.” I brought my voice down low. “And I think we should keep those few times I let you hit it between you and me. Things can get messy if it gets out we fucked,” I whispered. The sexual acts might’ve been done with ease, but I was still paranoid about King finding out.
“Oh, it’s too late for all that second-guessing now that the deed has been done,” Johnie chuckled. “If you ain’t talking about giving me that ass on demand, it might slip out during a studio session that you’re just as much of a freak as Rayna.”
“You wouldn’t,” I dared him, even though his words sounded clear-cut and definite. “There’s too much on the line with your music career if King finds out.” I continued pulling his card.
“I’m my own entity, baby girl. Your man, if that’s what you wanna call him, ain’t nothing but a stepping stone in my career. I’m gonna be gravy with or without his ass. Now back to us. What’s up with giving me that wetness?”
“You can try it if you want to. King won’t believe your half-singing ass over me. So whatever card you wanna play, Johnie, drop it on the table.”
Johnie didn’t finish our conversation. He ended the call after loudly cackling. I was left trying to figure out what move he was about to make. I couldn’t dwell for long, though. I still had one in motion myself.
Rayna
Having King’s son was already turning out to be beneficial for me. Purposely getting knocked up by a nigga for security was older than the invention of hot, buttered popcorn, so I was glad that for me it hadn’t played out. Not even home from the hospital yet, and K.J. was already responsible for copping his momma 500 fat ones. Ain’t no telling what I could come up on by the time he turned eighteen.
“Hey, Ray.” I heard Tiana screaming my name from outside.
“What up?” I poked my head out of the window.
“Now that K.P. is gone, are ya bringing ya ass back out here? Me and Cam didn’t spend the majority of our food stamps to feed the hood just because we felt like being good Samaritans,” Tiana huffed.
“I’ll come out to chill until he gets back. But we’re going shopping for K.J. in a few. He just went on a run.” I couldn’t wait to throw it up in her face. No matter who thought King wasn’t gonna do right by this one was sure getting shown otherwise, even me.
“Oh, okay. Well, I can’t even throw salt on baby K.J.” She turned her drink up. “Make sure you take those few dollars we collected from everyone to get him something nice. We’ll be here partying when you get back.” She turned around, walking back to Cameron’s unit.
Rather than trying to figure out Tiana’s hot-and-cold attitude, I got back to getting ready for King to pull back up. There was always a party going down in the projects, so there was no reason for me to rush to chill with the same folks shooting the same shit.
Whether or not I acted cocky or brazen when King tried checking me earlier about being on the same immature tip I’d been on pretty much my whole life, my common sense knew better. Junior deserved better, and as his mother, my job was to give him that. King, however, could save his “run your actions through me” bullshit for his son when it would be needed.
Samira
Bumping Jhené Aiko’s “The Worst,” I was caught up in the lyrics as I sped to Rayna’s project housing development. I knew her little broke ass didn’t have much of nothing, and even though I was trying to make peace with King, this was a grand way to stunt hard in her face. It was like killing two birds with one stone.
Anxiety was building up within me. I couldn’t wait to pull up on her home-wrecking ass with a trunk load of baby stuff she couldn’t afford to get her own child. She might’ve had the baby, but I was the wife. It was time for me to play my trump card like a real woman as opposed to playing word games like a child.
The GPS system told me to make a right within a half mile. Not wanting to get seen without looking flawless, I pulled over to make sure my makeup and hair was laid perfectly. Once that was done, I slipped a blade underneath my tongue like I used to do back in the day. Me and my blade used to cut shit up despite people underestimating my gangster. Trust, it was nothing for me to relive my youth! If Rayna wanted to get buck on some silly shit, she could get cut on some relentless shit.
The ghetto was turned up as expected. There were ratchet folks by the truck full sitting on their cars, lounging in the middle of the street, and leaning by the mailboxes shooting multiple games of dice. Nothing in this one-entrance/exit death trap was pleasant or inviting. Twinges of anger shot through my body as I thought of King over here slumming. He better hope he ain’t brought home no type of disease, roaches, or bedbugs fucking around in this filth. Even with my windows rolled up and my Flowerbomb perfume lingering strongly underneath my nose, I still felt like I could smell their offensiveness coming through my car’s vents. King was wrong as fuck for going from sugar with me to shit with Rayna.
Unmoved by the amount of people swarming around and eyeballing my car like I was some type of movie star, I kept pushing toward the address I’d gotten off Google. Nowadays, it’s nothing to find out where a chick or trick lays their head. Finally pulling up at the supposed townhouse C-318, I didn’t think twice before leaping out and knocking on the screen door. The main door was wide open, and I heard music pumping out loudly, so I knew someone was inside. My presence screamed “stranger,” so of course all eyes remained focused on me.
“Who is you? Can I help you with something?”
The ghetto-sounding voice made me turn around. I looked up to see a brown-skinned woman with cheap-looking clothes trotting toward me. And here started the bullshit. Jamila would have really been an asset right about now. “Yeah, if you know where Rayna Robinson is.” I made sure not to stutter. Alone or not, I had my blade, and it could be whatever.
“Damn, they must’ve raised the pay for social workers.” Another girl walked up behind the first ghetto travesty who spoke. “Are they hiring for a receptionist or housekeepers at the hospital yet? I’ve been trying to get a job. Put me on!”
“Fall back, Cameron.” The first girl threw her hand up. “I don’t think this bitch is no social worker, and I fa’damn sure don’t think she’s here to spread no good deeds throughout the projects.” I watched her grim me from head to toe as the other girl folded her arms and fell in line as a follower.
I didn’t know if they could see my eyes rolling through my lightly tinted shades. I wasn’t fazed by the little lowlife union they shared. Rats were known to run in packs, and I didn’t need a troop of followers. I felt my finger twitch, which meant my intuition was telling me strong that Thing One and Thing Two wanted to catch what I was carrying. “Bitch or not, this is not your business. I’m looking for Rayna Robinson.”
“That’s my girl, and you’re on my porch, so anything coming up out of your mouth is my business.�
� She refused to back down.
“Oh, okay, well, pull Rayna up out of your pocket since you’re her keeper and shit.” I turned and dropped my hand low with a balled-up fist, letting her know I wasn’t opposed to getting it popping.
“Say the word, Tiana, and I’ma pull what I got in my pocket out for her slick-mouth ass.” The initial nice girl added her two cents in.
My first thought was to keep quiet until my common sense kicked in. Dressed in a pair of skin-tight booty shorts, ain’t no way in hell she was packing more than a yeast infection. And even if she thought she was gonna come from the left on me first, I would’ve sliced and diced her before she blinked. While they were busy getting grim with me, I’d peeped the center of attention slowly pulling up. The broken-down version of Lilo and Stitch were no longer factors and low-key, and neither was Rayna.
“Samira? Have you lost your fucking mind?” Rolling the window down, King stared me dead in the face as I nodded my head like a boss.
“Yeah, nigga, as a matter of fact, I have.”
Before I could mutter another ill word, the woman I came over here looking for flew out of the door, swinging.
Rayna
Imagine my surprise when I heard the commotion going on outside of my window that involved my name. Like a trained veteran of the projects, I surveyed the scene for a few seconds before coming out, so I knew it was Samira on the porch. My intent was to let Tiana and Cameron handle my lightweight since I was still stitched up. But when King pulled up, I ran out ready to bust a bitch’s ass.
“You should’ve told this uppity bitch about me,” I yelled, landing one swift blow to the back of Samira’s head.
She turned around, moving with the quickness. From the club, I should’ve known not to underestimate her. Before I could blink, she backed up a few paces to gain her composure then whipped out her weapon. “Yeah, ho, so you want it huh?”
Arm Candy Page 11
