When A Bad Boy Wants Your Heart

by Sephiri J

  My father was devastated, but he was a strong man because he worked double hard to provide for me, give me everything I needed, and taught me as much as he could about how to be strong. We ended up moving to Miami when I was ten years old because he got a great job as district manager for an automotive store.

  When I met Bo, it was one of the best things that happened to me. She was the sister I never had, and we just clicked because we understood each other so well. Her family treated me and my dad like family too, especially her father. I was extra protective of my father, though, especially in these last years because he had developed diabetes and treated the shit like it wasn’t serious. I had to check on him to make sure he was taking his medication and checking his blood sugar levels because if I didn’t make sure he did, he probably wouldn’t.

  “You okay, though?” he asked.

  I looked over at him, and he was staring at me with a frown. My father knew me like the back of his hand, so if something was wrong, I knew I wouldn’t be able to hide it. This wasn’t something I really wanted to talk about, so I shrugged and nodded.

  “I’m good, Daddy,” I said while looking back at the television.

  “Sade,” he said in a firm voice, and I looked back at him. “Don’t lie to me. What’s going on?”

  I looked up at the ceiling because I didn’t feel like having the water works start up again.

  “I thought I might finally be pregnant, but I found out today that I’m not, so I’m just a little sad about that,” I quickly said.

  He didn’t say anything, although I knew what he was thinking. I looked at him, and he was looking at the TV while frowning.

  “I’m sorry, baby girl,” he said and reached for my hand then squeezed it.

  “I know you don’t want me having a baby with Greg now anyway, Daddy, but you know this is something I’ve been wanting. I just don’t understand why it’s not happening,” I said. I felt the tears starting to come again, and I buried my head in my hands.

  I felt my father’s arms pulling me toward him, and I lost it. The tears came out of me like a broken pipe. There wasn’t anything I wanted more in my whole life, so knowing that I was coming up short made me feel like I wasn’t a woman, like this was my fault.

  I cried for a good five minutes while my father just held me and rubbed my back. I was a grown ass woman, but I was always a daddy’s girl. My father wanted me to be happy, but I knew he wanted me be with someone other than Greg. He and Greg butted heads all the time. My father thought he was disrespectful and not good enough for me, and that killed me too because they were the two most important men in my life.

  “Maybe you should go talk to a woman’s doctor or something,” my father said sort of awkwardly.

  I smiled a little at him. He loved me, but he was still a man, so this conversation wasn’t exactly comfortable for him. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  “I will, Daddy,” I said as I stood up. “I came by to check on you and make sure you were doing what you’re supposed to be doing.”

  “I’m good,” he said and chuckled. “I want to make sure you’re good, though.”

  “I will be,” I said and ran my fingers through my hair before reaching down for my purse. “You should come by the house tomorrow. I’m cooking.”

  He nodded up at me. “Okay.”

  I left the house and put my sunglasses on to shield my eyes. After sending off a quick text to Bo to see if she was getting the tattoo after all, I hopped in my car and drove down the street back home.

  Greg and I lived in a townhouse in North Miami close to the beach. He bought it a few years back before we lived together, and when I decided to move out of my dad’s house, it only made sense for me to live with Greg. Our relationship was tumultuous, but our love was strong.

  I met him at a house party when I was eighteen, and ever since then I had been in love with his ass. Now we’d been together for five years, but it definitely had been a roller coaster. He owned a barbershop and made good money doing that, but he had a huge ego, and sometimes his mouth was reckless to the point that my sensitive ass always ended up with hurt feelings. Plus, his ex and the mother of his kid, Summer, was always a source of a problem for us.

  Their son was seven years old, a handsome little boy named Brandon. The two of them had just broken up when I met Greg, so when we got together, Summer was pissed that he moved on with me. Through our whole relationship, she would make petty comments, call him at random hours, text him, and do whatever she could to make me uncomfortable as fuck. Greg never shut that shit down, talking about he can’t control what she says, and I need to toughen up and stop taking shit personal.

  I pulled up to the townhouse and walked up to the front door.

  “Babe?” I said as I stepped inside.

  He was supposed to be home. He’d said he would be at the shop in the morning then working on some promotion from his home office in the afternoon.

  I walked over to the back where his office was. He had his headphones in and bumping to music as he sat at his desk on his laptop. I walked up to him and put my hand on his arm.

  “Hey babe,” I said, and he jumped a little.

  He looked up at me as he took the Beats headphones from his ear.

  “You scared the shit out of me. Don’t be sneakin’ up on me like that, Sade,” he said and turned back around to look at the computer.

  I rolled my eyes because I wasn’t trying to deal with him being dumb this afternoon. “I was just saying hi and letting you know I was here,” I said as I walked out of the office.

  “You good?” he asked me as I walked away.

  I stopped walking and hesitantly turned back. I had mentioned the possibility that I might be pregnant to him about a week ago, so I knew eventually I would have to tell him my period came. Might as well rip the bandage off now.

  “I’m not pregnant,” I started. He turned around and looked at me from his chair. “My period started while I was at my dad’s house earlier.”

  What I wanted my man to do was get up out his seat and come to me, wrap his arms around me, and tell me we would be fine, and we would just try again for next month. What I needed was for him to look me in my eyes and tell me this wasn’t my fault and we would just keep trying. But he didn’t do any of that.

  He shrugged and turned back around to face his computer.

  “Well, we know it’s not something wrong with me cuz I already have Brandon,” he said, and I felt like he hit me in my chest. “You probably so busy running behind Bo and her drama that your body is too stressed out to be carrying my kid.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense, Greg. But okay, thanks,” I said then turned and walked away from him.

  I felt sick to my stomach and emotionally exhausted. My phone vibrated in my pocket as I walked to my room. It was a text from Bo that said, Yes, getting it done now.

  I didn’t answer, though. I wasn’t in the mental headspace to talk to anyone, especially after the reaction I got from Greg. I wanted to go to my room, crawl under my covers, and just take a nap. Maybe after I woke up, I would feel less shitty. I could only hope anyway.

  I made it to our room and sank into the bed. I closed my eyes and prayed that as I slept, I wouldn’t see the little girl in my dreams that I wanted so badly to be growing in my belly.

  10

  City

  It was funny as fuck to me to see that chick Bo in my shop looking back at me with a confused ass expression on her face. I honestly didn’t think I would see her again after what happened last night, so for her to be with Marcus right now getting a tattoo was a little crazy. I knew she didn’t have no appointments because I checked the books every night to see what was up and how my money was gonna look. I would have remembered if I saw her name written down on his schedule and I knew I didn’t see it. So, she must’ve walked in, and his horny ass squeezed her in.

  “What’s good, Bo?” I asked strolling into the booth.

  She looked up at
me all confused then she rolled her eyes and looked away. Seeing her in full light showed me how pretty she was. She was thick like I remembered, but her face had this natural beauty too. The way she reacted, though, I knew she recognized me and still felt a way about yesterday.

  “You stalkin’ me now? What the fuck?” she said, looking like she was getting ready to get up out the chair.

  I took a step back and raised an eyebrow at her. Shorty must be buggin. “You in my shop, but I’m the stalker? Ma, if you wanted this dick, all you had to do was let me know last night. You ain’t need to come up here actin all surprised,” I said and chuckled.

  Her eyes bucked. “Wait, you own this shop?” Her cute face looked back and forth between me and Marcus.

  “Yeah, this my spot. I know you heard about me, and that’s why you sitting in my chair now with your cute self, pretending like you not happy to see a nigga,” I said while grinning at her.

  She stood up and turned to Marcus. “I’m real sorry, but I didn’t know this was his shop. Let me know what I owe you. I’ll get this finished somewhere else.”

  I looked at her arm and saw that the tattoo she was getting wasn’t even halfway finished.

  “The fuck you running for, though? You gonna be out there looking broke with a half-inked tatt. Keep your ass in that chair,” I said while looking at her like she was crazy.

  She looked back down at her arm like she was thinking over what the right move was.

  “Yo, Marcus,” I said and shook my head.

  Bo was buggin’, and even though she was rude as hell to me, I wasn’t trying to have her running around outside with a halfway done tattoo with my shop’s name on it.

  “’Sup?” Marcus said.

  “I’m gon’ handle some shit for a minute, so keep an eye out,” I said and stepped back.

  “For sure,” Marcus said.

  I turned back to Bo, who was standing with a mean mug on her face, but she didn’t leave, so I guess that was good.

  “You trippin,” I said, “but I’m stepping out anyway. Keep your ass in here so you can finish your shit cuz you’re actin’ real irrational right now.”

  I walked out before she could say anything else, but if I was a betting man, I knew she wanted to say some slick shit back. She could say it to Marcus, though, and I was sure she would. He would tell me what she was on when I got back.

  I walked back out my shop and jumped into my Range. Pops had hit me up last night talking ’bout we needed to talk. I knew it was because of the shit with Rigs, and I didn’t want to hear his mouth, but I knew Pops, and he wasn’t about to let this go. So, I figured I would slide by his spot and hear him out, even though I wasn’t going to squash this shit with his son.

  Twenty minutes later, I pulled up to Pops’ gated community. When I got to his house, I jumped out my car and made my way up to the front door.

  Pops lived by himself since he and Rigs’s mother broke up. He was living good too, and it was crazy how since he had been separated from her, he just seemed lighter and happier. Pops used to have a couple tattoo shops back in the day, but he also pushed weight on the low. I was pretty sure that a lot of the money he had to this day came from the drugs he used to sell. But that shit benefited me and my moms because growing up, I didn’t have to do without, so that didn’t bother me either way. He bowed out the game a while back, but he was still a paranoid motherfucker, so I knew he had security cameras damn near everywhere outside and inside his crib. I knocked on the door, and he came to open it soon after.

  He grinned at me. “About time you came to see your old man.”

  I chuckled and gave him a half hug. “What’s up, Pops?”

  My pops was a handsome nigga, but that was to be expected since I came from him. He was about the same height as me just a little slimmer. He had a low fade and was a shade lighter than me, but when you looked in our face, our facial features were real similar. He had that strong DNA because Rigs had the same facial features as him too, even though we had different mothers.

  He stepped to the side, so I could come in, and I walked with him through the house to the back. Pops had hooked this whole place up when he bought it a couple years back. He had a pool back there with a hot tub. Inside, he’d set up a whole theater with a bar in the back and pool tables. He had a girl who came by once every couple days to clean up and cook for him, but she wasn’t there now, so I figured he was alone.

  Some nights I would come by, and we would just shoot the shit and talk about life. Pops never made me feel like he didn’t care about me, and I respected him for that because he was a real nigga. No matter how I was conceived, he never made me feel like I was less than anybody else. Which was probably why Rigs hated my ass so much. I knew he wanted me and Rigs to live in peace, but I wasn’t interested.

  “How have you been?” he asked and sat down in one of his patio chairs.

  “Good,” I said and sat beside him. “Just stopped by the shop on the way over here.”

  “I heard you been showing your ass lately,” he said in a matter of fact tone. He didn’t waste any time getting to the point. I leaned back in the seat and prepared for him to go on his rant.

  “You looking at me like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Why you and Rigs out here fighting like you not blood?” he asked.

  “That nigga ain’t my blood,” I said. I felt myself getting irritated, but I tried to swallow the shit I wanted to say.

  “You can say that all day till you blue in the face, City, but the fact that he’s your blood is never gonna change. You both out here fighting and acting the fool when you should have each other’s back in real life. Cuz as far as family goes, other than your mom and me, he’s all you’ve got,” he said.

  I shook my head and stood up because even though I loved my pops, he was talking some dumb shit right now. Rigs would never be all I had. I had my niggas who were like family to me and would always be like family. Fuck blood, if they wasn’t ridin’ for me, that was just a title anyway. The fuck was a brother who would stab you in the back at the first opportunity? The fuck was a brother who stayed hating on you every minute and wanted to see you fail? Pops could keep that kumbaya shit.

  “You told Rigs this speech you tellin’ me right now?” I asked Pops.

  “Can you sit down? I’m trying to speak to you,” he said.

  I sucked my teeth but sat to keep the peace with him.

  “I spoke to him this morning, City,” he said to answer my question. “Look, you might not see what I’m saying right now, but trust me, the day is gonna come when you’re going to need each other. So, both of you need to get over this dumb shit now.”

  “I’m good on that, Pops,” I said, shaking my head.

  I was ready to go, because at this point, I’d heard enough. I came over there to appease this man because he was important to me and I respected him, but I was done listening.

  “Think about what I’m saying, son,” he said.

  “I did. I’m good on that. Tell your son to keep my name out his mouth unless he wants a repeat,” I said. “I’ll come by in a couple days to see you.”

  I stood and turned to look at my father. He was looking at me like he wanted to say something, but he didn’t. He probably knew it wouldn’t make a difference.

  I shrugged. “He’s the one starting shit, pops. I’m just chilling and minding my business. I got bigger things to worry about than him, to be honest.”

  “How’s the shop?” Pops asked.

  “Good. We’re going to the tattoo convention in a couple days, so that should be real good for publicity,” I said.

  My father nodded slowly. “Rigs will be there too.”

  I sucked my teeth. Pops kept bringing the shit up like I was supposed to change my mind the more he said this nigga’s name.

  “Good for him. I gotta go,” I said then walked over to my father to give him a hug.

  “Stay safe, City,” he said.

  I was getting a vibe from him l
ike he knew something and wasn’t saying it to me. But, I couldn’t worry about that shit. He was stuck on me being right with Rigs, but I wasn’t the type of nigga to run behind someone and beg them to squash a beef. That wasn’t gonna happen on any day.

  That chick Bo flashed across my mind as I walked out the house. She had a stubborn personality that had me interested. I wanted to see her again and figure out what she was about. The first time we interacted was crazy because of the situation I was in, but she did what I said and didn’t go to the cops on some bullshit afterward. To me, that said a whole fucking lot.

  I picked up my phone as I jumped in my car and called the shop.

  “What’s up, Tati. Let me get at Marcus,” I said when the receptionist answered the phone.

  Two minutes later, Marcus’ voice came through the phone. “What’s good?”

  “Aye. Bo still at the shop with you?” I asked.

  “Nah, we just got done. She left,” Marcus said.

  “Aight. You had her fill out one of them forms though, right? With her contact info and what not?” I said.

  Marcus hesitated, and I frowned. “Nah, actually I forgot. She walked in, so I squeezed her into an appointment. I didn’t make her sign nothin’.”

  “The fuck, bruh,” I said. That was one of the rules of my shop, and I didn’t like when people who worked for me didn’t do what I told them to do.

  “My bad, man,” Marcus said with his goofy ass.

  “What I tell you about following my fucking rules? You know that’s procedure for liability and shit. The fuck you doin’ tattoos and not making people sign waivers,” I heatedly said.

  “It was a mistake, man. I forgot,” he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.