She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest 2

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She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest 2 Page 9

by Shvonne Latrice


  I quickly switched off, making sure to add a little extra bounce. Yeah, I loved Armonn, but I still liked to be admired.

  Eitan was a cute guy, despite his light skin not being my preference, and I liked his height and body. However, if he was anything like ignorant ass, hood ass Tony, he and I were not gonna work. That nigga ruined the party and ruined me getting that raise.

  Getting in my car, I sped off, going straight home. When I got there, I saw Armonn was already knocked out, so I used what little food we had to make a peanut and butter jelly sandwich. This shit had never tasted so good, to the point where I made a second one when done.

  After showering, washing this make up off, and brushing my teeth, I slipped into some pajamas and did my best to catch some shut eye.

  The next morning…

  My alarm went off, and I saw it was 11 a.m., so I needed to get the hell up. I usually had today off, but I was going to go in today to get some extra time in as Mark suggested.

  I noticed Armonn was out of bed already, so after collecting my thoughts, I hopped up to go eat breakfast before showering, brushing my teeth, and getting dressed in some jeans and a top. It was the weekend, and usually, Mark would allow me to dress down. I put on some pumps to go with it, then spritzed on some perfume before grabbing my purse.

  “Hey, baby.” Armonn entered the house just as I’d walked into the living room. He was smiling from ear to ear and smelling good as hell.

  “Hey.” I chuckled as he leaned down to kiss me.

  “What you think?” He spun around for me.

  “Umm, you look great, but what’s new?”

  “That was sweet, but I meant, what you think of my jacket?” Again, he spun for me, grinning the whole time with his arms out, mimicking a plane.

  “It’s cute. How much was it?” I rubbed the sleeves, feeling how good the quality was. I recognized the big white symbol embroidered on the back of it, but I couldn’t place it.

  “A little over nineteen hundred with tax.” He smirked.

  “What? Where did you get that kind of money?”

  “Remember the Trucker Jeans ad? My money came in!” He was so excited about it as he hopped over the couch to sit down.

  I followed him but took the long way and sat down adjacent to his ass so I could see his face. He was occupied by his phone like nothing was happening.

  “You said that check was for two thousand dollars.”

  “Right.”

  “Wait.” I set my purse to the side. “You took basically your whole check and bought this fucking jacket? A jacket!” I became enraged.

  “It’s Balmain, Rubie!”

  “I don’t give a fuck what it is!” I shot up from the couch, ready to choke his stupid, broke ass to death. “I was stuffing my face with peanut butter and jelly sandwiches last night because we have no damn food, and you went out to buy a fucking Balmain jacket!”

  “I worked hard for that money, and you tripping because I treated myself?”

  “Oh my Lord Jesus.” I paced the living room floor. Pausing, I replied, “Armonn, our fridge is empty, and I have been pretty much carrying us since we got together. How is it that the first thing you thought to buy with that check, was a designer jacket?” I tried to keep my voice calm, hoping he’d maybe see clearly if I did.

  “My boys and I went to the mall after picking up our checks, and I saw them buying shit, so I got something.”

  Sitting down next to him, I took his hand into mine. “Baby, I get that you wanted to fit in with them, but you should return the jacket.”

  “Rubie, I can’t.”

  “What do you mean you can’t?”

  “I mean, I don’t want to. I want this jacket. I haven’t bought shit for myself in I don’t know how long, and I deserve it.”

  I just looked at him, wondering how he didn’t understand. I was wondering how he’d made this decision and thought it was okay after everything we’d been through.

  “Okay.” I put his hand back in his lap and got up. “Well I have to go to work so that I can put food in the fridge while you shop.”

  “Rubie, come on, man. You—”

  I slammed the front door behind myself and charged to my car. I was beyond upset to the point where I probably shouldn’t have been driving. And of course, just as I started my car, my iPhone began ringing, and I saw it was Camarih.

  “Hello?” I sat there, letting my air conditioner blow on me. My leg bounced out of irritation.

  “Hi. I wanted to call and apologize for ruining the party, Rubie. I know how much it meant to you, and I hate that it turned out the way it did.”

  “It’s not your fault, Camarih. It was that hoodlum you’re dating.”

  She was quiet for longer than expected, so I pulled the phone from my ear to see if she was still on the line; she was.

  “It wasn’t his fault either. It was Stallion’s fault for groping me and flirting with me, despite me saying to stop and let go.”

  “I mean, yeah, but Tony didn’t have to hit him. He could have politely told him to release you and move on.”

  “Well I don’t know where you’re from or who you’re used to dating, Rubie, but when a man feels disrespected, he’s going to act accordingly. Now I’m sorry it went left, but if anyone should be the blame, it’s Stallion, not my man for protecting me.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just wanted this to be good so badly. And Mark needed Stallion’s approval, so he’s upset about him getting knocked out.”

  “I understand. You will figure something out though; you’re a clever girl.”

  “Thanks.” I chuckled.

  After getting off the phone with Camarih, I headed to work. My mind quickly went back to the fact that Armonn was strutting around with a $1,900 jacket on.

  I parked in my designated spot and then went up into the building to see what tasks Mark had that I could get a headstart on before this coming Monday. He wasn’t in, thank God, so I didn’t have to fetch his smoothies, and I could also take longer breaks or lunches.

  About three hours into my shift, my phone buzzed loudly on my desk. Looking down, I saw it was from Instagram. It said someone named LyricalE wanted to send me a message. Frowning, I tapped it to see it simply read, ‘What’s up?’. I then remembered the screen name from when I lurked through Tony Wacko’s profile; this was Eitan.

  Accepting it, I replied.

  Me: Hey

  LyricalE: You busy?

  Me: Always.

  LyricalE: Lol let’s go eat somewhere.

  LyricalE: My treat.

  I smirked at that second line. I didn’t know if he was just letting me know or taking a shot at Armonn.

  Me: When?

  LyricalE: Right now. Shoot me your address.

  I wasn’t into Eitan outside of his looks, but a bitch was hungry and broke. So if he was offering me food, I’d be a fool not to take it.

  After sending my work address, I smiled to myself and got back to work until Eitan let me know that he was outside. Grabbing my purse, I saw Armonn was calling me, so I dropped the phone into my bag and made my way out. If he wanted to spend money on jackets instead of groceries or taking me out for a nice meal, then I would let another nigga do it.

  “Damn, that’s how you dress for work?” Eitan looked me over, licking his lips as I closed the door to his Nissan Maxima. It was a four door, and I could tell it was somewhat new or at the least two years old.

  “This isn’t even anything. It’s jeans and a top.”

  “I guess you just so fine, everything looks like something on you.”

  “Boyfriend. Remember that.” I put on my seatbelt as he drove off, chuckling.

  We ended up at this placed named Guisados, a Mexican restaurant off Spring Street here in downtown. It wasn’t too fancy or anything, very casual, but I was starving, so I didn’t care. All I’d had for breakfast was the remaining egg whites in the carton and a piece of toast.

  “Thanks for allowing me to treat you
.” Eitan smirked. He was wearing a crew neck sweatshirt, black jeans, and some Versace sneakers… or at least I think. I wasn’t too well versed on designer brands unless they had the monogram on it like Gucci, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, or Fendi.

  His curly hair was braided into two Dutch braids, stopping at the top back of his head, and the sides were shaved. I guess this was his new style, since the last time I saw him, his hair was free.

  “You’re welcome.” We laughed in unison. We’d ordered our food already, so we were just waiting. “I don’t have to worry about anyone running up on me, do I?” I scanned the place playfully as he smiled.

  “Not even.” He ran his hand across his fresh braids. “I apologize for that.”

  “Is that your woman? It’s okay if it is. Remember, I have a man, so it’s not like we can date or anything.”

  “Nah, she ain’t my woman, and I no longer mess with her either. But why you keep mentioning that you have a man like I got dementia or some shit?”

  “Just making sure we don’t forget.”

  Our food came right as I spoke, so we thanked the lady before she walked away.

  “So he really be asking you for money?” Eitan frowned.

  “No. What makes you think that?”

  “The homie.”

  “Well your homie was misinformed. I simply asked him a question regarding a man asking his woman for money, and his thoughts. It was for my blog.” I put sauce on my food. I had to stop myself from drooling.

  “What’s the name of the blog?”

  Caught off guard, I hesitated, trying to think of a name, but I took too long. Catching on, Eitan began chuckling and shaking his head.

  “You a bad ass liar.”

  “And so what if he does ask me? So, it’s okay for a man to take care of his woman but not the other way around?”

  “Chill, man. I ain’t say nothing was wrong with it. I just asked if it was true.”

  “Well I’m asking you what you think right now!”

  “Relax, Rubie.” He was grinning, pissing me off like I was psycho or something.

  “I am relaxed, negro.” I chomped down onto my taco. The flavor that burst into my mouth almost made me cum in my panties.

  “Okay, cool.” He wiped his hands on the napkin before clearing his throat. “I think it all depends. If he’s borrowing until his next payday or something, then nah, I guess that ain’t too bad, but just asking it for it with no intention of reimbursing like a kept female is weird.”

  “Well he pays me back all the time,” I lied out of embarrassment.

  “Then cool.” We ate some more of the food for a little bit then he said, “I got a show coming up and I wanna invite you.”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “It’s gon’ be lit. You ain’t gon’ wanna miss it.”

  “Will Camarih be there?”

  “Most likely, since Wacko will be and they back together. He brings her ass everywhere usually.”

  “Why you hating? You wanna fuck him?” I began chortling when he gave me a look.

  “Not even. It’s just weird. He’s not the relationship type of nigga. Still getting used to him having somebody on him like that.”

  “I see. Well if Camarih will be there, then I can come. I better not have to pay anything.”

  “You’ll be good, I swear.”

  We smiled at one another for a little bit before tending back to our food. I knew befriending Eitan wasn’t the best idea, but being around a man who wasn’t asking for $40 every ten minutes felt nice. And I needed a little break from life.

  Rahim Cambridge

  “I promise I just need to get some new shoes, and then I want to check out this new line by Too Faced before we go.” Phoebe gripped my hand tightly as she led me through the mall.

  “Yeah, whatever.” I huffed, making her laugh.

  We’d been here all damn day, and that was my fault for offering to take her shopping. I hadn’t gotten any since Shanece, and after the blow up between Phoebe and I, she wasn’t fucking with me. So I had to do some apologizing, and then came the shopping trip.

  My money situation had improved now that we’d generated some revenue, but I still wasn’t balling. I couldn’t think of a side hustle like Tony had, and shit, Eitan was making a nice amount of change from them shows Tony booked.

  Tony advised I start producing for other muthafuckas for extra bread, but I took my time with my beats, and I felt like adding other musicians right now would take away from what I was doing with Eitan. In my opinion, when an artist stuck with one producer and vice versa, that was when the best fucking music was made. Them niggas who hopped from producer to producer never really had a solid sound to me, and I wanted Eitan to have that shit. Plus, I wanted to be known as his producer first, then start branching out. It was all part of a plan.

  “What you think, baby?” Phoebe pulled me from my thoughts, showing me some red shoes on her feet.

  We were in Saks, getting her some shoes for the date night she strong armed me in to taking her on. I had no problem with that, but I was hoping we could fuck first.

  “Perfect, like everything else on you.”

  “Boy, quit.” She laughed, walking to the large mirror and posing.

  At the moment, I was making a little over $5,000 a month, since Tony paid me $2,500 for my beats, and now that Eitan was racking in some cash, he paid me the other $2,500 per beat. By saying that, I surely wasn’t paid enough to be buying Phoebe the $900 heels she was telling the stylist to ring up at the moment.

  Luckily, Amara and I had a joint account and credit card, so when I needed to, I used that. She never tripped, but when she saw this shit for over a $1,000 due to tax and from Saks Fifth, I knew she’d hit me. I’d come up with something to tell her, and this would be the last damn time.

  “Aight, now where to? I’m gon’ be too tired for dinner and shit.” I frowned.

  “No you won’t, and if you are, I’ll wake you up.” Phoebe winked.

  We walked for one hundred miles it seemed, in this big ass mall, until we ended up at Sephora. I knew this spot because Amara loved it. I smirked thinking about my beautiful wife and how happy she got being in here.

  While Phoebe shopped, I spotted a familiar face, aka Shanece. She was standing next to Camarih, looking at some lip-glosses that I assumed were by Rihanna since her face was on the setup. Looking around, I noticed Phoebe had left me to my lonesome while she ogled some bright pink section, in the zone. I took that time to dart over to where Shanece was.

  “Hey, ladies.” I grinned, but when they looked up, neither of them smiled back. “Did I come at the wrong time?”

  “Rahim, maybe you should leave us alone.” Camarih stared at me.

  Squinting, I looked from her to Shanece, and then from Shanece back to her before asking, “Did I do something?”

  I knew Shanece was bothered by what happened between us, judging by the way she blew up on me before she left. She’d also been ignoring my texts asking her to talk. However, I figured no way she told Camarih what happened since that wasn’t exactly something she wanted others to know; at least I assumed she didn’t. So I was playing dumb right now.

  “Rahim, go.” Shanece rolled her eyes.

  “Can I just talk to you for a second, privately?”

  “No.” Camarih shook her head, eyes closed, and arms folded. She was shorter than Shanece but acting bigger.

  “Just for a second, Shanece, and I will leave you alone.”

  “You have two minutes and not a second longer.” She frowned, said something to a complaining Camarih, and then led me to the other aisle. “Okay, go.”

  “How are you?”

  “Rahim—”

  “Answer the question, Shanece.”

  “I’m doing fine, I guess.” She looked down at her sandals briefly. “It gets easier every day, and since I got tested for diseases, which came back negative, I’m at ease.”

  “Tested for diseases? Wow.” I laughed.


  “Sorry, but I don’t know you. All the more reason why we shouldn’t have done what we did.”

  “Right.” I just stared at her. “You tell yo’ husband?”

  “No. Why would I do that?”

  “I don’t know. Y’all seem to have this perfect marriage, so I figured this wasn’t something that you’d wanna keep from homie.”

  “Wow, you are such an asshole. A jealous asshole.”

  “Jealous? Jealous of what?”

  “That I won’t be with you instead. I bet you want him to find out so he can leave me and then you can swoop in.”

  “For yo’ information, even if y’all was broken up, I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Yeah right, nigga.” She looked off, angry as hell.

  I almost slipped up and told her ass about Amara, but I kept my chill.

  “Shanece, I only pulled you aside because I wanted to make sure you were good. I know what you did ain’t a part of ya character, and it was probably gnawing at you. But I want you to know that just because you made a mistake, doesn’t mean you’re a bad wife. You a good ass wife, just being mistreated, so you fucked up.”

  “I am not being mistreated.” She whipped her head in my direction, eyes wet. “You don’t know anything. Just because I mentioned a few things to you, does not make you an expert on Paul and me.”

  “It doesn’t. I was just trying to make you feel better and let you know it’s aight.”

  When done speaking, I noticed a thick dark-skinned chick walk by behind Shanece slowly and suspiciously as fuck. My mind was on Shanece though, so I paid her no mind.

  “But that’s the thing, Rahim. It is not alright. I have been with that man since I was a teenager, and he’s been nothing but good to me. And now that he’s sick, depressed, and sometimes irritable, the first thing I did was hop on another dick. Does that sound like a good ass wife to you? Would that be something you’d allow your wife, if you had one, to do?” Letting a tear drip, she moved closer to me to continue. “It is not alright, and the best thing you can say to me is the truth, Rahim. It is not alright that I fucked you.”

  I nodded because she was stating facts. I felt her pain more than she knew, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t express that right now.

 

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