Arm Candy

by T. C. Littles

  Right then I knew I’d made another ill-bred move, but I had a point to prove and a nut to bust. Samira shouldn’t have fucked with a friend.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Rayna

  Someone from around the way figured I needed the baby clothes and items Samira tossed from her car window, so they left them on our porch. I’d been going through the bag, torn between wanting to hate her or appreciate her for getting my son so many nice things. There were sleepers, outfits, pacifiers, bottles, and even a few rattles that said, “I love Daddy.” From the looks of it, she was really trying to be the bigger person. I saw through that fluff, though.

  Samira wanted to impress King. I knew the game well since I majored in Ratchet Thinking. She was smart enough to know that she’d lose him to me if she didn’t accept his son. So she was going out of her way to prove she’d accepted him. Since K.P. wasn’t here nursing my wounds, she’d obviously won this round.

  “So is that nigga answering ya calls or not? Cameron and her cousins are downstairs ready to make a move.” Tiana stood in my bedroom doorway.

  “Naw, he’s not answering. I don’t know where he’s at, but we can at least ride past to scope the place out.” I checked my side, making sure blood wasn’t leaking through my bandage.

  “Fuck a scope-out, Rayna. You’re either all the way in to retaliate, or you can stay home and nurse your wounds. Either way, me and the crew are about to ride out.” She bent down to lace up her knock-off Air Forces. “Ol’ girl tried jumping you at the club, came through our neck of the woods knowing you were fresh from the hospital, plus she’s the reason K.J. won’t have a full-time dad. You’re more of a sucker for love than I thought if you ain’t talking about causing no baby-momma drama.”

  * * *

  Me, Tiana, Cameron, and two of her cousins from the east side rode piled up on each other in her four-door Neon. A blunt was in rotation, but I wasn’t taking my turn. I’d only taken two puffs and was feeling like I’d made the wrong choice. The last time I showed up at K.P.’s, things didn’t end up so good.

  I’d have given anything for it to go back to the good ol’ days when me, King, and Johnie would sit up in the studio for hours getting bent. You couldn’t tell me I wasn’t K.P.’s girl. Tiana tried to tell me I was just the main groupie, but when he and I clicked, I felt like it was love.

  Every time he signed in to mix or sample a song, I was right there on his lap, dancing. Every time he brought a potential music group in to showboat, I’d be the one walking away in heels and cutoff booty shorts to entice them to sign. And each and every time he told me to drop and suck him until his creative juices flowed properly, I motivated him like any good woman would. Samira might’ve been the money behind the man, but I was his stimulus. Shiiiit, in my mind I was that nigga’s power.

  “Please don’t tell me you’re back there on some regretful shit, Rayna.” Tiana turned around from the passenger seat, addressing me.

  “Girl, bye. Like you said earlier, it’s about time for me to start stirring up some baby-momma drama.” I twisted my lips, knowing she’d like my response.

  “That’s my girl.” Her smile went a mile long. She reached back to give me a play. I swore she loved getting revenge more than me. Tiana had always been the feistiest of us two. “Okay, here’s the plan once we pull up . . .”

  We all listened as Tiana instructed each of us on how things would go down once we arrived at Samira and King’s. From the sound of it, she’d had this mapped out since finding out I was banging another woman’s man.

  It was too late to turn back if I wanted to. Everyone was eager and in agreement to tear shit up with no remorse. Checking my phone, seeing K.P. still hadn’t called to see how I was doing, my uncertainty turned into bitterness. “Make another right. It’s the eighth house on the right-hand side. It’s painted a reddish color. The address is 15763.”

  Everyone in the car turned in my direction with twisted faces and side-eyes. The cousins even chuckled.

  “Damn, girl, I’ma take that private-eye description you just ran down to me as a sign that you’ve been over here a few times.” Cameron burst out laughing. “That musical dick must sing all up in yo’ coochie.”

  Cameron had the car tilting over in laughter. The joke was on me, yet I didn’t care. There was no reason to get upset, so I joined in on the laughter. “Yup, you’re damn right I’ve been over here stalking. Unfortunately, from the sound of Tiana’s plans, that’ll all be coming to an end.”

  “Yup, yup, yup. I’m ready to huff, puff, and blow their little castle down.” Tiana peered out the window with a menacing smile in her eyes.

  Jamila

  All the makeup I’d packed on for tonight’s escapade was now smeared all over my face. As soon as I slid into the comfort of my own car, I let out all the tears I’d been holding in.

  At first, he was stroking me to sleep each time he dug into my guts. Then he flipped and turned against me like I wasn’t shit. My tears drenched the pillow as his cum drenched my back. I thought K.P. was won over with me after I dropped the bomb about Samira and Johnie, but the joke was on me. He put me out of his room just as quickly as he nutted. I couldn’t help contemplate if any of this was worth it.

  “Come on, Mila, get a grip.” I fumbled with the key, trying to slide it in the ignition. The last thing I wanted was for King to come out of the room while I was still parked outside. He’d already called me a thirsty broad. To be lingering would make me look like a dehydrated wolf.

  The car acted like it didn’t want to turn over, so much so that I almost flooded my engine making it. Right afterward, it sputtered then shut back off. My flushed nerves turned to panic. Oh, my God, this can’t be happening. I’m so tired of piling money into this piece of crap!

  When I finally got it started again, I threw it into reverse without checking behind me then floored the gas pedal, making it speed out of the parking spot before it could cut back off. I went through this routine of having the car sputter, choke, and cut off on me three times within a three-mile radius of the hotel.

  I guessed karma was kicking my ass already. I couldn’t help but feel this was God’s way of teaching me a lesson for sleeping with my best friend’s husband. Picking up my phone, I couldn’t even call and reach out for Samira’s help. Instead, I pushed SEND after scrolling to Johnie’s name then waited for him to pick up.

  “What up? Speak to me,” he answered, sounding on top of the world.

  “I know I’m the last person you expected to hear from, but I didn’t have anyone else to call. I need your help,” I said, cutting to the chase.

  “Oh, really? Well, damn, I thought you said a chick of your caliber can have any nigga she wants. Where are any of them at now? Why are you calling me for help?”

  He was rubbing my words in my face, and I didn’t have a choice but to take each syllable with a grain of salt. “Please, Johnie, I’m stranded on the side of the road. Do you think you could come help me out? I don’t know what’s wrong with my car.”

  When I didn’t hear him respond or even laugh, I pulled the phone from my face and saw he’d disconnected the call. Leaning my head back against the headrest in frustration, I let out a bloodcurdling scream then took a deep breath, trying to start the car again. Unfortunately, it still didn’t rev up. Karma was truly a bitch. When I got myself together, I was gonna start serving portions out.

  Johnie

  The way Jamila clowned and came for my head earlier was unforgivable and unforgettable. She could miss me with any conversation, contact, or common courtesy. If she saw me in the studio or around the way because of King and Samira, her ass better play the background role. Jamila was bad news.

  Setting my phone in the cup holder, I laughed at her audacity and nerve to even ring my phone after earlier, especially for a favor. She was sicker in the head than I thought. I would’ve never pegged her for the psychotic type when Samira first brought her to the studio, but it was obvious I’d been fooled. It was a
good thing she was in the dark about me and Samira having sex.

  The more I thought about it, the more I worried about what information I actually did give her while we were talking and drinking. In my attempt to hit her skins, I could’ve slipped and said too much.

  I tilted my fitted cap like a boss. My interview with the radio station had me feeling myself. I could see myself blowing up sooner rather than later. Knowing that, I couldn’t keep giving major thought to a small-time figure in my come-up. Jamila could only be calculated with my downfall, and I wasn’t having that.

  Rolling the windows down to catch a fresh breeze, I also needed the wind to keep me up because I was like a dead man walking. I’d been fucking like the Energizer Bunny, making hit songs in the studio, plus doing interviews and promoting behind K.P.’s back. It was a shocker I hadn’t passed out yet from exhaustion.

  Ring. Ring! Ring!

  Instead of answering Jamila, I powered my phone off then floored the gas pedal home. I was in dire need of some long, uninterrupted sleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  Samira

  “Yes, that’ll be three locks I need changed. Okay, see you when you get here.”

  I hung up the phone from the locksmith then took another glance out of the blinds. If King thought he was gonna play family man with that bastard baby and Rayna, he could do it all the way up out of here. Fuck giving him the option to come and go like he pleased and like his name was on some bills.

  I got his voicemail message. Needless to say, I wasn’t impressed. If that’s all he could come up after letting Rayna stomp all over my ass, I was wasting my time fighting for love. King couldn’t have wanted to truly reconcile.

  When I woke up at the hotel with dried tears all over my face from crying in my sleep, I knew that my heart was broken and would bleed out if it could. If I was fighting with his baby momma today, I’d be fighting with her for a lifetime. My eyes were wide open. I couldn’t go the long haul with King’s luggage on my back. I went through every spectrum of emotion before finally coming to the decision to kick him out.

  Once I was done grandstanding and setting King free, I’d be going back into the rented-out cave to set my emotions free. King was a heavy weight I needed lifted. I was about to make the move I should’ve made instead rushing his ass to Toledo. The decision wasn’t final whether I wanted an annulment, but I was choking on the chunk of bullshit I’d bitten off.

  This wasn’t our household to share. It was mine and mine alone. My parents left it in my name only because they knew about simple niggas like King. They might’ve allowed their daughter to make dumb decisions, but they still provided me a safety net for just-in-case purposes. I guessed for bullshit like this.

  While I continued to wait, I grabbed a few of the boxes I’d picked up from Home Depot on the way home and threw them down the basement stairs. It was time to get King up out of my life once and for all. Once I was done packing his stuff, I tossed the boxes on the curb and sent a text to his phone about it being there. Verbal conversation wasn’t needed.

  With one swoop, I cleared off a whole shelf, which included his DVD, CD, and video game collection. I tossed them into the boxes carelessly, not caring if the discs got scratched up. And I dared him to bump his gums at me recklessly like this wasn’t my cash I was fuckin’ up. For years, I’d let King dig deep into my pockets for his big-boy toys, but the sun had set on those dreary days in my life. I’d be the biggest fool on this planet if I continued to let him play me like my worth didn’t matter.

  My moves were swift as I tore the basement down the same way I built it up: one gift at a time. His PlayStation 4 went flying across the room then shattered into several pieces against the wall. I didn’t give a fuck. I secretly wished it was his head. The precious studio equipment I financed, which was what led to all the heffas and hoes like Rayna, I stomped until all the buttons popped out.

  “Yeah, nigga! Fuck me? Naw, fuck you! And I’ma fuck ya homeboy again. Believe that.”

  With a heart of heavy emotions, I was crying, screaming, and melting down, all because I was in love. All I wanted was my man and my happy home.

  Crash! Crash! Boom!

  I heard glass shatter, followed by a loud explosion, and my heart and stomach dropped as I fell to the ground, covering my ears. The sounds seemed so close. Panicked and unsure of what was going on, I flew up the basement stairs then damn near passed out once I hit the kitchen. Smoke was thick in the air as my living room was burning to a crisp. Someone must’ve set my house on fire.

  The only way out was the side door. I’d already contemplated and canceled out the chances of me running through there for my purse, keys, phone, or any belongings. The fire wasn’t staying contained within the living room. Making sure I got out alive, I was empty-handed as I ran down the driveway into the middle of the street. Tears streamed down my face as I watched everything I owned go up in flames.

  “Oh, my goodness, child. I hope you have insurance. This is horrible.” One of my nosy neighbors added her two cents while pointing her camera phone at my house. She had more than big balls and nerve to be filming my house burning down with me standing right next to her.

  “Spare me your opinion, lady. And run that fuckin’ cell.” I snatched her iPhone from her hand. “You’re rude as hell.”

  “Are you crazy? Give that back.” She tried snatching it back, but I moved too quickly.

  “Chill out. You can have your phone back after I make this quick call. From the looks of it, you weren’t doing anything but being entertained by my misfortune.” I rolled my neck then threw my hand up. That meant for her to fall back, which she did.

  I didn’t expect King to answer from this random number, but I was hoping he would. This was a 911 emergency.

  “Speak to me. This is K.P.,” King answered.

  “King! Oh, my God! King!” I screamed into the phone. My heart skipped a few beats when I heard his voice.

  “Hello? Who is this?” His voice was slurred, and he sounded confused.

  “Samira! I’m calling you from the neighbor’s phone because the house is on fire,” I blurted out.

  “What? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, man.” King’s voice cleared up. It was obvious he was high and drunk. “Is it contained? How’d it happen? Have fire trucks been dispatched? Did you grab any of my music equipment?”

  “Your music equipment? I’m telling you our house is on fire and you’re asking about some replaceable-ass equipment? I swear you don’t care about nothing but music, that baby, and Rayna,” I shouted for the whole block to hear.

  Everyone out watching the show darted their eyes from my house to me as I screamed over the phone. I went from being panicked and nervous over the fire to irate at King for being such an asshole and so inconsiderate.

  “You can cut out all the bullshit and theatrics, Samira. I’m up and on my way. And when I get there, please spare me the long, drawn-out speech about someone caring about you when you’ve fucked my manz Johnie.” He snickered into the phone then hung up.

  Pulling the phone from my face, I couldn’t believe what I’d heard.

  “Now give me my damn phone back.” My neighbor snatched her phone from my hand.

  The blaring sirens of fire trucks coming were drowned out by King’s words playing over and over in my head. No matter how much dirt he’d done to cause me heartache and grief, my dirty deed was much more personal. I just wondered which demon spilled the secret: Jamila or Johnie.

  Despite me worrying about how things would play out with us from here on out, I couldn’t help but wonder how he felt finally being the one to get played. The beat don’t stop. The game is always reinvented.

  I sat on the curb with elbows on my thighs and my face perched on my fists. The red and yellow flames danced in my eyesight as I waited on King to arrive. And that’s when I saw my precious car torn all the way up. All the windows were broken out, the tires were flattened, and the paint job seemed to have scratches all over it.
Payback is a bitch. Jamila must know I fucked with her car . . . or . . .

  Rayna

  “Yeah, baby! We bombed that bitch.” Tiana high-fived Cameron, more hype than me about throwing the Molotov cocktails into King and Samira’s front window.

  Our first intention was to break in, tear some shit up, and then light the house on fire. That plan quickly changed once we saw Samira’s whip pull into the driveway. I had K.J. to worry about, Cam was fighting a welfare case, and her cousins had warrants. Tiana was the only one unconcerned about the police coming, and she still wanted to run in on Samira. We were able to pacify her by tearing up the car. She did most of the destruction alone.

  I couldn’t get the sound of glass shattering out of my mind as I threw the first of two bricks into the picture window. And when Tiana tossed in the cocktail, my ears damn near fell off from hearing the loud explosion. The home King loved to leave mine for in the middle of the night was no longer a motherfucking factor.

  Ring. Ring! Ring!

  Right on time, K.P. was finally calling my phone. “Hello,” I answered indifferently.

  Everyone in the car held in their giggles. Tiana turned and stared at me with a grin, egging me on.

  “Have you been to my crib, Rayna? And don’t fucking lie,” he screamed into the phone. He was so loud I had to pull it away from my ear.

  “Fuck you, King. I’m done gettin’ played. The beat stops here. I’ll see yo’ ass down at court for my child support.” I hung up and high-fived Tiana.

  Ring. Ring!

  My text notification went off, and it was, of course, him.

  K.P.: Naw, the beat don’t stop.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Rayna

  Unable to break my eyes from reading the text message from King over and over again, I was shaking from worry in my jogging pants. This was not how things were supposed to end up between him and me. We were supposed to be at the hospital playing the position of happy first-time parents, holding hands and nursing our son to good health, not fighting battles against one another. Sure, Samira invaded my territory and slashed me like a bitch, but I should’ve gotten back at her in a more clever way. If she went to the police and the dominoes fell, I could lose custody of K.J. quicker than I’d filled out the birth certificate. Damn!