The Faithful Side Chick, page 1
The Faithful Side Chick
Racquel Williams
www.urbanbooks.net
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Acknowledgments
Chapter One - Brooklyn
Chapter Two - Brooklyn
Chapter Three - Brooklyn
Chapter Four - Brooklyn
Chapter Five - Alyssa
Chapter Six - Jihad
Chapter Seven - Brooklyn
Chapter Eight - Alyssa
Chapter Nine - Brooklyn
Chapter Ten - Brooklyn
Chapter Eleven - Jihad
Chapter Twelve - Alyssa
Chapter Thirteen - Brooklyn
Chapter Fourteen - Jihad
Chapter Fifteen - Brooklyn
Chapter Sixteen - Brooklyn
Chapter Seventeen - Brooklyn
Chapter Eighteen - Brooklyn
Chapter Nineteen - Brooklyn
Chapter Twenty - Brooklyn
Chapter Twenty-one - Brooklyn
Chapter Twenty-two - Brooklyn
Chapter Twenty-three - Brooklyn
Chapter Twenty-four - Brooklyn
Chapter Twenty-five - Brooklyn
Chapter Twenty-six - Brooklyn
Epilogue - Brooklyn
Urban Books, LLC
300 Farmingdale Road, N.Y.-Route 109
Farmingdale, NY 11735
The Faithful Side Chick
Copyright © 2023 Racquel Williams
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
ISBN: 978-1-6455-6478-2
ISBN 13: 978-1-64556-478-2
EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-64556-479-9
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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Acknowledgments
First and foremost, I want to give all praises to Allah. Without his blessings, none of this would be possible.
To my support system, thank y’all for having my back and pushing me to be the best I can be. I love y’all.
To all my readers, the older readers and the newer ones, I love and appreciate y’all. Without all y’all’s love and support, I would not be able to continue writing full time. I will forever be grateful.
Chapter One
Brooklyn
I’m sitting here thinking back on my life and can’t help but laugh at how naive my ass was. See, all the signs were there, but I let my common sense and my Ivy League education all slip away just because this nigga fucked me good and sucked the life out of my pussy.
To understand how this drama unfolds, I have to go back to 2016. This was the year that brought out hoes and thots to Front Street and gave these side bitches a voice. I remember back in the day if a bitch was fucking your nigga, she used to do that shit on the low, hoping and praying the wife or girlfriend didn’t find out. That shit is now a thing of the past. These new bitches are definitely on some “Let’s share this nigga” kind of shit. A nigga can be married and have a family, and that still won’t deter a bitch from jumping in the DM or hitting that nigga up on some “Let’s get together” type of shit.
See, that’s all motherfucking good . . . until they fuck around and bump into a bitch like me. Brooklyn was the name my dad, who was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, gave me. My mom was from the island of Jamaica. She met my father as soon as she moved here. They started fucking around at a young age. She got pregnant at 14, and he was 16. My father was a well-known trap nigga that had a couple of trap houses all through the tristate. But on the other hand, my mother went to college and earned an accounting degree. In my opinion, I think she did that so she could learn how to clean my daddy’s illegal money.
I was never exposed to that life. As a matter of fact, I went to live with my daddy’s mother, who had moved to Richmond, Virginia. She was a schoolteacher and part-time librarian. Grandma was a dedicated Christian woman who made sure we were in church every Sunday morning, rain or shine. We were always there. I used to think Grandma was fucking the pastor because, in my young mind, I did not understand why Grandma was so damn loyal to this nigga. I ain’t never seen them together, but only God could come down and tell me different. Anyway, I graduated high school, went on to college, and got me an associate degree in psychology, but I didn’t stop until I got my master’s in psychology. I wasn’t surprised ’cause, from a young age, I used to try to get into the mind of these young niggas, often manipulating them to give me whatever it was that my heart desired, whether it was beating them out of the head or bleeding their pockets dry. I was a savage at the games I played.
I wasn’t your average chick. I had brains, and I had a bossy mentality. Maybe this was one of the reasons why none of these niggas were in any rush to bag my ass. I saw how my father treated my mother like a queen, but everyone, including my mother, knew that Daddy was a whore. Rumors had it that he was slinging dick from the Bronx all the way to Brooklyn, and a few females done called his name as their baby daddy. See, Mama was no pushover, though. She stayed calm and handled all of Daddy’s money. Then when he was gunned down in Harlem over ten years ago, Mama walked away a rich woman. I respect my mother, but shit, there was no way I would’ve dealt with his ass that long for the love of the money . . . or would I?
* * *
After getting my master’s in psychology, I opened a counseling center with my portion of the money that Daddy left me. Before you knew it, I was raking in a good sum of money on my own. I cater to the juvenile system ’cause God knows some of these young motherfuckers were fucked up in the head and needed someone to help them figure their way out. That’s where my staff and I came in.
The day after my thirtieth birthday, I was walking out of Planet Fitness. I had gained a few pounds over the winter and decided I needed to get them off me. I was never a skinny bitch, but I was always toned. Lately, I peeped a few cellulites creeping up on me. I quickly joined the gym, and I’ve been showing up faithfully ever since.
Anyway, I had just finished working out when I put my Kate Spade sunglasses on and exited the building. My phone vibrated, and I looked down to check it. It was a text from my homegirl. She’s out here visiting a friend and spent a few days at my house with me. I promised her I would drop her off at the airport this evening.
“Excuse me,” I heard a sexy, sultry voice say.
It was too late. I done walked dead into this man. I looked up, and we locked eyes. “I’m so sorry. I was paying attention to the phone,” I tried explaining myself while feeling a little embarrassed.
“Nah, you straight, beautiful,” he flashed an addictive smile at me.
“Have a good day,” I said and started to walk off.
I heard someone running behind me, so I quickly turned around. Surprisingly, it was the nigga that I bumped into. I was confused. I apologized, so what the fuck do he want now? I thought.
“Excuse me, is something wrong?” I quizzed.
“Nothing is wrong. I just felt like I had to come strike up a conversation with you.”
“Really, and why is that?” I was puzzled and annoyed. I had shit to do, and this nigga was holding me up.
“Where are my manners . . . My name is Jihad. What’s your name, beautiful?”
“Nice to meet you, Jihad, but I ain’t got time to be sitting here talking. I got some shit to do.” I started walking off.
“Damn, ma, why the attitude? I just asked your name. You’re behaving like I asked you for your account number.” He came off a little too cocky for me.
“You know what? You’re right. My name is Brooklyn. Now, can I go?” I asked sarcastically.
“Is that your name, or you just threw something out there ’cause I asked?”
“Jihad, I’m a grown-ass woman. Does it look like I’m into games?” I took off my glasses and stared down this nigga.
“Okay . . . Brooklyn, can I take you out sometime?”
“No disrespect, Jihad, but no. I’m not interested. Now, have you a blessed day.”
Without waiting for a response, I put on my glasses and sped off toward my car. This nigga was really tripping. I accidentally bumped into him, and he took that as me trying to go out with him. These niggas must really think every female that they come across is either lonely as fuck or just desperate for the dick. I beg to differ ’cause my ass is far from lonely, and I got a few different size dildos that I use almost nightly or whenever my pussy starts fiening for some dick. Yes, I know, the dildo can never replace a man, but for now, it was doing the job. Sometimes, I fucked myself so damn good, pussy be sore for days. You should see me walking around with my legs close together because of the soreness from tearing my walls up with that plastic dick.
I got in my car and pulled off. I glanced in my mirror
I really hate coming to Richmond International Airport. These damn cops out here be tripping, telling people to move along. Why the fuck would I move along if I’m trying to drop someone off? I pulled up.
“Brooklyn, my dear friend, I am going to miss you. Maybe you can come see us next time you get a vacation.”
“You know I will. I been to Toronto quite a few times, and I love it there.”
“Well, I’m in Pickering. Toronto is not that far, though. Just let me know, and we can get you.”
“Okay, love. Have a safe flight.”
“Okay, hon.”
I watched as she dragged her bags into the building, waited a few seconds, then pulled off. This Richmond traffic was not easy this time of evening. I hope 95 South was not backed up. I was too tired this evening to be stuck in this heat.
* * *
Thursdays are usually my busiest days, so I wasn’t surprised that the office was packed. By the time I realized that I hadn’t taken a break or even drunk a glass of water, it was a little past four. Shit, I really was trying to make the gym today, especially since I couldn’t go earlier. My first client was scheduled for 8:00 a.m., which my secretary mistakenly made ’cause my black ass don’t usually work before 9:00 a.m.I thought about not hitting the gym, but I knew that was the devil playing with me. My entire life, I’ve kind of been on the chubby side. Finally, I got tired of looking at that belly roll in the mirror. So, one day I got up and decided to make a change. Shit, three months later, you should see my banging-ass body. I ain’t where I want to be yet, but I was proud of myself. I also changed my eating habits. I cut down on red meat and started eating more fish and vegetables. For lunch, I often bring a bowl of fresh fruits that I picked up from the market.
Finally, I cut off my computer, grabbed my purse, locked my office, and headed out.
“You’re leaving early?” my nosy-ass secretary, Nicolette, asked.
I wanted to say, “Yes, bitch. I am the boss, so I can leave whenever the fuck I want to,” but instead, I smiled at her. “Yes, that was my last appointment. Plus, I didn’t make the gym this morning.”
“You really been on that exercising thing hard, huh? Let me find out you got a new man in yo’ life,” she giggled.
“Don’t you think that’s a little too personal?” I giggled.
“Umm, I’m sorry, boss lady. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”
“Please, set the alarm when you leave and deposit those checks first thing in the morning.”
“Okay, will do.”
I walked out, slamming the door behind me. See, I wasn’t the kind to sit around and tell bitches my business. There were levels to this shit. I was the boss, and she was merely the help. Regardless of whether I was screwing a new man, I didn’t see how it was any of her business.
I jumped into my car, pulled off, and cut on the music as I made my way to the house. After changing into my active wear, I made my way to the gym. I’m not going to lie. Going to the gym is a task, but whenever I’m finished working out, I always feel better mentally, even though physically, my ass be tired as a bitch.
I checked in and immediately got on the treadmill. Then I did my squats. I noticed someone watching me from the corner of my eye. I turned my head and went back to focusing on getting my workout on.
Finally, I grabbed my bag and was heading out the door when I heard someone clear their throat. I turned to look and noticed it was the same guy I bumped into the other day. I searched my brain. Jihad. I think that’s what he said his name was.
“Hey, you. What you doing, stalking me?” I asked.
“Nah. Me stalk you? Never that,” he laughed.
“So, what are you doing here? Are you a member of the gym?”
“Actually, I’m part owner of the gym. My brother, Jaseem, and I started this business years ago.”
“Oh, nice. A brother that owns his own business.” My whole tone changed toward him now that I realized he wasn’t no bum chasing after me.
“Listen, Brooklyn, ever since I saw you the other day, I can’t seem to get you off my mind. So, let me cut to the chase. I would love to take you out for lunch.”
“Is that so? Hmm, lunchtime is way gone. I think it’s almost supper,” I said sarcastically.
“Yeah, I know. I was just throwing something out there, hoping you say yes. So, can I take you out on a dinner date?”
“I’ll think about it. If you give me your number, and if I decide to take you up on your offer, I’ll give you a call.”
“Man, this sound like bullshit to me. I mean, if you not interested, just let me know straight up instead of stringing me on.”
“Listen, I’m a grown-ass woman. If I wanted to tell you no, I would’ve. So, are you going to give me the number or not?”
“Damn, you a feisty one.” He smiled, showing his teeth, which were pearly white. I did notice one of his teeth had a chip on it, though. That kind of makes him sexier when he smiles.
He gave me his number, and I walked away while he walked into the gym. I got into my ride and pulled off. I couldn’t help but wonder what that was all about. Did he purposely bump into me just so he could ask me out? I was aware of the little games these niggas be playing.
As soon as I got into the house, I undressed. It was the best feeling to come up out of them clothes, letting this pussy air out and letting these breasts hang loose. I poured myself a glass of red wine while I set my bathwater. My body felt a little sorer than usual. I was hoping the hot water would do my body some justice.
I closed my eyes as I relaxed in the warm water with bubbles. Crazy enough, this nigga Jihad popped into my head. I ain’t gon’ front. I was curious to find out what the fuck he was about. I smiled to myself. It’s been a minute since a dude piqued my interest, especially a Black brother. Don’t get me wrong, I love my brothers, but I only dated one Black dude, and that was in my teenage years. All through college and my adult years, I only dated white dudes. The white dudes love my black, fluffy ass. And when I tell you they know how to eat pussy and ass, man, my freaky behind loved it. Often, I get a dirty look from the brothers or even the females, but shit, I love what I love.
The next day, my ass hurried to leave the office and head home. I wasted no time changing into my exercise clothes, grabbing my gym bag and water bottle, and heading out. In my mind, I tried to convince myself that I was eager to get to work out, but who the fuck was I fooling but my damn self? My fast ass wanted to see Jihad. I love the way his name rings out in my head . . . Hmmm. I wonder how it would sound rolling off my tongue when he was knee-deep in my guts?
Honk, honk!
Oh shit, I was tripping. My ass was so caught up in my thoughts I done swerved over in the right lane, causing the old bitch that’s driving the beat-up-ass Buick to honk the horn at me while yelling, “Bitch, pay attention.” I was in a good mood ’cause if I weren’t, my ass would be on the 6:00 p.m. news for beating up somebody old-ass granny. So instead, I breathed hard and continued driving while keeping my eyes on the streets.
Five minutes later, I pulled into the gym parking lot. There were a lot of cars, which meant the gym was crowded. I really didn’t give a damn ’bout who was there. My only concern was if Jihad’s fine ass was there. I quickly parked and sashayed inside. I signed in and got into my routine. I wanted to turn around and peek the entire time I was there, but I tried not to. A bitch didn’t want to come off as being desperate.
Thirty minutes later, I was finished. I grabbed my bag and walked out. I was hoping I would hear someone come running behind me, but I got to the car, and no one came running. I drove off feeling disappointed. Well, fuck it. I quickly dismissed him out of my mind. It was still early. I thought about going back to the office but quickly changed my mind. It was almost rush hour, and God knows my black ass didn’t want to be stuck in traffic. I decided to head on home, but not before stopping at the Boston Market to grab dinner.
As soon as I got home, I took a quick shower. Ain’t no better feeling than a fresh pussy. I put on a little housedress, poured me a glass of wine, and made a plate. I decided to sit in the living room while I relaxed, waiting for the evening news to come on. I took a few sips of the red wine and was definitely feeling lovely. Suddenly, my phone started ringing, so I grabbed it.
