When My Soul Met A Thug

by Jessica N Watkins

  I broke down in sobs, crying into my hands and wondering what else God could possibly hit me with.

  I should not have ever, ever asked that question.

  1

  True

  - A YEAR LATER -

  ♫Ayo, I been on, bitch, you been corn

  Bentley tints on, Fendi prints on

  I mean I been Storm, X-Men been formed

  He keep on dialin' Nicki like the Prince song

  I-I-I been on, bitch, you been corn

  Bentley tints on, Fendi prints on

  Ayo, I been north, Lara been Croft

  Plates say Chun-Li, drop the Benz off♫

  “’I went and copped the chopsticks. Put it in my bun just to pop shit. I'm always in the top shit. Box seats. Bitch, fuck the gossip’…” I stopped rapping along to Nicki Minaj’s Chun-Li when my phone started to ring through the Bluetooth in the Range Rover that I’d been awarded in the divorce.

  Jameel had actually done me a favor when he left me that night a year ago. I didn’t have time to waste by living any more days with him miserable. Our divorce was quick, easy, and final as of three months ago. He was pissed that I had gotten the house, this truck, our condo, child support, and spousal support in the divorce, but I was happy to be free of him and his pissy attitude.

  I hadn’t known how much of a captive I was until he walked out of my life. I was heartbroken for weeks, but eventually, I realized Jameel leaving me was a blessing in disguise. Since he’d left, the only person who was suffering was Joy. She hadn’t seen Jameel since he learned how big of a settlement I was going to receive in the divorce. He had left me because of my situation, but because of my situation, he was still responsible for me financially, and that pissed him off. He called himself punishing me by leaving me one hundred percent physically responsible for Joy even though we had joint custody. However, he had been so verbally abusive since the divorce that I was fearful of the things he would say to my daughter if he were alone with her. Therefore, I was cool with him being an absentee father if I still got those checks every month.

  I smiled when I looked at the dash and saw Coop calling me. I allowed the sweetest, feminine, flirtatious voice to leave my pouty lips as I answered and greeted him. “Hey you.”

  “What up, tho?” he shot.

  I rolled my eyes and laughed quietly to myself. He’s so damn hood.

  “Nothing. On my way to my mother’s house,” I lied.

  “You and your mother are always together,” he complained.

  I wasn’t surprised at Coop’s response. He was always a smart ass. He rarely had anything nice to say. “Yeah, we are. And?” I shot back.

  He ignored my sass and asked, “What you doin’ later? I’m tryin’ to see you.”

  “Tryin’ to see me?” I decided to tease him just because. It was for my entertainment.

  He sucked his teeth. “Yeah, man.”

  I rolled my eyes as I zoomed through a yellow light. “You’re a damn lie. You’re trying to have sex with me. Be honest.”

  “Well, you don’t like when I'm an asshole, so…”

  I smiled as I said, “So, that was you being nice?”

  Yet again, he sucked his teeth but even harder this time. “Man, whatever.”

  I shook my head as I turned right onto 43rd Street. Coop was lucky that I just wanted the D instead of an actual dating relationship with him. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have wanted a damn thing to do with his mean ass. His attitude reminded me too much of Jameel’s, once Jameel had turned cold. That's why I would never take Coop seriously if I were looking to be committed to someone. Coop was a thug to his heart. He didn’t sweet talk and never wined and dined. Hell, he never even called me by my name or even “baby.” I was “shorty.” Lucky for him, he made up for his excessively rough approach by being sexy as hell with some exceptional dick.

  Outside of his personality, Coop was a unicorn; gorgeous, a mouth-watering physique, and a stroke game that every man should envy. He was tall, 6’4”, with chocolate skin and a kissable mouth complemented with a big, suckable bottom lip. His mean ass had the audacity to have two, deep dimples, light brown, bedroom eyes, and a full, luscious, beard that fell at least four inches away from his chin. He was thick too. He had to weigh almost three-hundred pounds. His arms were massive, and he had the legs to match.

  And the dick? Lordt! He had a big dick and knew how to use it. He didn’t need to do foreplay. His dick alone made me cum multiple times in one session.

  Yep, he was a freaking unicorn.

  He would be even more unbelievable if he were a nice person. Therefore, I appreciated his crassness because it kept me floating up onto cloud nine when we had sex.

  He had been giving me orgasms for three months, and I was loving every minute of it. We knew each other intimately, but not personally. We were strictly sex, and I was okay with that.

  As I parked a few feet away from Norman’s Bistro, I told him, “I’ll see how I feel when I get through with my mama.”

  “See how you feel?” he repeated with his usual attitude.

  “Yes,” I pressed with taunting humor in my voice. I was messing with him on purpose. “I’ll see how I feel.”

  “Man, whatever.”

  As I started to laugh, his end of the line went dead.

  “He hung up on me!” I threw my head back, laughing hysterically.

  I shrugged as I flipped down the sun visor and checked my appearance in the mirror. I wiped off the excess gloss from the creases of my lips and smoothed the back of my tapered cut.

  Thank God my hair is growing back.

  Happy with how I looked, I collected my purse and cell phone from the passenger’s seat. Then I hopped out of my truck. Before walking towards the restaurant, I adjusted my high-waist jeans. I noticed they were a bit loose around the thighs. I sighed, realizing I had lost even more weight. I swallowed that disappointment and made my way towards the bistro.

  Once inside, I spotted my date sitting at the bar looking up at the NBA playoff game on the TV above the bar as he sipped from what I knew was his usual drink, Patrón.

  A week after Jameel walked out of my life, I decided to live the rest of my life as I wanted to. I was not going to let Jameel take away any more of my happy moments. I decided to laugh a lot, drink a lot, dance a lot, and have sex a whole lot. So, since then, I had been dating as much as I could. Coop was only one of the members on my team. I was walking up on one of the others.

  “Hey, you,” I whispered into Kane’s ear from behind as I slid my arms around his waist.

  He jumped a bit but relaxed as soon as he recognized my voice. I giggled, let him go, and slid in the barstool next to him.

  “Hey, you,” he returned. “I ordered your drink already. She’s making it now.”

  “Thank you.” I smiled.

  “How you been?”

  I fed him a bunch of bullshit. I told him that everything was great, that I had no worries. That was how I got through my days and maintained my happiness. There was no need to talk about my reality. That's not what these men were for. They were for my entertainment and to make me cum.

  That was it. That was all.

  ♫We out here drippin' in finesse

  It don't make no sense

  Out here drippin' in finesse

  You know it, you know it

  We out here drippin' in finesse

  It don't make no sense

  Out here drippin' in finesse

  You know it, you know it♫

  Three hours later, Kane and I were standing in front of our barstools, swaying back and forth drunkenly to Bruno Mars. The game had gone off, and now I finally had Kane’s full attention. The small bar area had filled up with a bunch of patrons who were enjoying music being spun by the deejay WyldChyld. The bartenders were luckily pouring heavy. Two peach Long Islands in, and I was ready to go back to Kane’s spot around the corner on 48th and Vincennes and get some of that good D.

  Kane wasn't my usual typ
e. He was only three inches taller than me, and I was only 5’41/2” barefoot. I purposely wore flat shoes whenever I was around him so I could look up to him. He had very light skin, but I had a fetish for dark-skin men. Despite this, sex with him was amazing. We had chemistry that I had rarely experienced. His foreplay was on point. I had never had a man make me so wet before penetration without even giving me oral sex. He kissed me from head to toe. He touched me as if we were madly in love. Before he even penetrated me, I was so utterly turned on that his average-size member actually felt like heaven on earth.

  He was good at what he did.

  Thinking about his sex game, I pressed my back against him and started to twerk against his pelvis, trying to get his mind on the same thing mine was on. I smiled to myself as I felt his dick growing harder in his jeans.

  However, my smile quickly faded as my eyes fell on Coop entering the bar from the patio.

  “Shit!” I cursed frantically. Luckily, the music was bumping so loudly that I knew Kane hadn’t heard me. I quickly turned towards Kane and hurriedly told him, “I have to go the restroom. I’ll be back.”

  I didn’t even wait for Kane to respond. I darted towards the restrooms, my heart beating frantically.

  Coop and I weren’t committed to each other, and neither were Coop and me, but it wasn’t their business that I was sleeping with both of them!

  Just as I had arrived at the ladies’ room and reached for the handle, I felt a hard grasp on my arm that I knew wasn’t Kane.

  I turned around to see a cocky look spread across Coop’s handsome face. A taunting smile was darting out of his full, luscious beard, but those eyes… They were filled with malice and showed not one ounce of friendliness as he spat, “That ain’t yo’ mama.”

  Coop

  “And?” Shorty shot back, trying to be tough, but I saw the fear in her eyes as she placed her hands on her hips.

  I let her go because I could see that security was watching us. I wasn’t scared at all, but I wasn’t ready for my night to end. I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my jeans to refrain from putting them on True. “You didn’t have to lie about being with another dude. You know I’m the last person to care.”

  She rolled those pretty brown eyes slightly. “Yeah, I know you don’t give a care, Coop.”

  “Then why you lie?” =

  “Because it wasn’t any of your business. Are we in a relationship?” she sassed as she folded her arms across those pretty titties.

  This was why no matter how much shorty rubbed me the wrong way, I kept going back. She was the one chick that didn’t jump at my beck and call. And, even after three months of messing around, she hadn’t pressed me to be in a relationship with her. She didn’t want commitment from me, and that was rare. A nigga like me was all the way with that. I wasn’t trying to be tied down. But because she was a challenge, she had my stubborn attention.

  “You’re right,” I replied, nodding slowly. “You know I’mma make you pay for that, though, right?”

  I watched her expression turn to concern, but I didn’t even wait for her to reply. She looked relieved when I just shrugged, turned, and headed back to the patio. That whack, little, yellow punk that she was with had his corny ass in his phone.

  Fuck his bitch ass and fuck shorty.

  True had always been difficult ever since I met her at the Italian Fiesta on Lake Park a few months ago. She had told me then that she was divorcing her husband. I thought she was going to be one of those chicks that wanted to be wifed since she was used to having a husband. But that was the last thing or her mind. I had never had a woman act like a man before, only wanting sex and nothing more. I was good with that. I wasn’t trying to fall in love with anybody. My love was the game. My side chick was money. I had no emotions for anything more. I didn’t know how to feel. No one had taught me how. I had no parents and no family. I definitely didn’t have any kids. I purposely always strapped up because the last thing I wanted to do was put a kid in the position that I had been raised in. If I couldn’t promise a kid a home with two loving parents, I didn’t want to have any. I had been raised by group homes and negligent foster parents that never kept me long enough to teach me anything. I didn’t love. I didn’t care. My only family and friend was my right-hand man, Rakim, who had forced his friendship on me in the streets when we were teenagers. But he was all I had. I didn’t allow anyone else to get any closer, especially not a woman.

  True had a lot of nerve trying to play me when she wasn't even the type of chick I went for. She was too skinny. I liked my women tall and thick to match my frame. I don’t mean that fake-body, Instagram model thick. I mean cornbread-fed with thighs that rubbed together type of thick. But True was slim and had the nerve to be constantly losing weight since we had started messing around, and she was short. Lucky for her, she still made my dick hard because she had this striking, natural beauty. Her features made her look Afro-Latino. Her skin was tan and smooth. Her kissable, pouty mouth was under a cute, turned-up nose. Her eyes had undeniable femininity that drew you in. Her short haircut put me in the mind of Meagan Good. Her beauty could make a blind man see.

  I definitely wasn’t going to let that high yellow, lame, nerdy motherfucka keep me from dicking True down. She would hear from me soon. But now that I knew she had opted to give that pussy to another nigga over me for the night, I was definitely going to make her pay for it.

  Back out on the patio, the shorty I had left out there when I peeped True inside was still leaning against the gate. One of the homies off the block, Zell, was still chopping it up with her. Zell wasn’t only a homie. He was one of my loyal block boys. Out of all the block boys, he had been working with me the longest. I had taken him under my wing and taught him the game. I saw a prosperous hustling future ahead for him if he kept his mind on the game as he had been.

  “Aye, lets ride,” I told Trina as I walked up on them.

  She looked surprised that I was ready to go so soon since we’d just gotten there. Since True was getting her action tonight, I wasn’t trying to let her mess that up by causing any smoke when she saw me with somebody else after I had just cut up. So, it was time to ride out.

  Trina, though confused about our sudden departure, didn’t argue with me. She grabbed her purse off the table in front of her as I shook up with Zell.

  Trina grabbed my hand, ready to leave, and my skin crawled. I didn’t like that shit at all. My hand suddenly started itching. But for the sake of ensuring that I didn’t piss tonight’s pussy off, I allowed her to hold on to my fingertips as we began to walk away.

  “Later, Zell,” I shot over my shoulder.

  “Aye, wait up, Coop.” He stopped me, appearing in front of me. “You seen Mac?”

  “Last time I saw him, he was on the block. Why? What’s up?”

  “He ain’t been back on the block since this morning. His baby’s mama called me lookin’ for him.”

  I shrugged. “I haven’t seen him. But make sure you find him. That nigga got my product.”

  He nodded. “For sure, boss.” He moved out of my way to give me and Trina a pathway out of the gate.

  I guided Trina by the small of her back towards the exit of the patio. I looked back at Zell with a stern eye. “Find my product.” I turned around expecting to see Trina’s phat ass, but instead, I was facing eyes just as cold as mine. My guard instantly went up. My hand instantly went to my hip where my piece was. There were at least fifty people on the patio. More people were across the street in the parking lot kicking it. Others were coming and going on the sidewalk. I hated to air this place out, but if I had to, I was prepared.

  “State your business,” I gritted as I glared into Prince’s eyes.

  Prince was another hustler from my hood. We rarely bumped heads, only having had beef over turf as younguns when we were just starting out. But the look in his eyes was telling me that he wasn’t in my face for a friendly conversation.

  Me and Trina locked eyes, and I motioned for
her to go to the car.

  She did so just as Prince spat, “You fuckin’ my broad?”

  I had to laugh. I had to. “You comin’ at me over some pussy?”

  He stepped closer into my space. We were eye to eye, fire darting between us. I could feel the bouncer’s eyes on us a few feet away that were securing the balcony.

  Prince then gritted, “I’m coming at you over what’s mine.”

  I couldn’t help the slick grin that spread across my beard. What was “his” was a cold piece of work by the name of Issa. She had been fine since grammar school and had only grown better with time. She was a caramel beauty with the measurements that I fantasized about. The only reason I wasn’t with her that night was because she was too scared to lie to Prince since he had been hearing about her messing around with me.

  I guessed she was right.

  “I ain’t worried about what’s yours,” I lied with a shrug. “I got pussy in the car waiting on me, my nigga. You can save this pussy-ass shit.”

  I was walking away when his soft ass had the nerve to stand in my way. My hand went to my piece. My body tensed until I saw the sincerity and pure pussiness in his eyes.

  “Man…” he mumbled. “I’m just asking you man to man to back up.”

  I laughed at his ass and kept it moving.

  I had been dicking Issa down for six months. She was a regular piece of good pussy, phat ass, and great head, so I wasn’t giving that up to satisfy that weak-ass nigga.

  “Ooooh shiiiiit!” Trina reached back and scratched at my thigh. I could feel her nails digging into my dripping skin, leaking the Hennessy that I had been drinking all day, as I pumped, gracefully in and out of her drenching, wet pussy.