The Faithful Side Chick, page 17
“I’m glad I could help you, and seeing how hard you work, you have a permanent spot here if you decide to return after you have the baby. Listen, you’re Jihad’s cousin, which means you’re family. I’ll help you in whatever way I can. Now, girl, dry them damn tears and hold up your head. You’re a beautiful girl, and you’re not lazy. Trust me. It will all work out. Babies are a blessing . . .” My voice trailed off.
“Thank you so much. I told Jihad he was a lucky man because I could tell you’re a great woman. I’m blessed that our paths crossed. Thank you so much, Mrs. Lewis.”
“Listen, you can call me Brooklyn when we are not in a professional setting or around clients. You’re also welcome, so go ahead and dry them tears. We got work to do.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m on it,” she smiled.
“That’s right. That’s what I’m used to seeing, you smiling and happy. Don’t give no nigga the power to dim your light. Now, go on so I can knock out some work.”
She smiled and walked out. It’s a shame how fucked-up these niggas are nowadays. It’s all good when they’re fucking you and not pulling out, but the minute you knocked up, they go MIA. I swear these niggas are fucking ridiculous.
“Mrs. Lewis, your first afternoon appointment is here.”
“Okay, thank you, Alyssa.”
I cleared my mind, straightened my desk, then got up and walked out to meet my client.
* * *
Shit, this was a long-ass day, I thought as I kicked off my Loui heels. I quickly slid out of the pencil skirt suit I wore. I was happy to be home. I jumped in the bathroom and took a quick, hot shower. Then I got dressed in a comfortable pair of pajama shorts and a top, walked into the kitchen, and stood there staring at this disgusting-ass shit. My expensive-ass kitchen was looking like a little hood kitchen. The sink was filled all the way up to the top, garbage was overflowing, and shit was all over my kitchen table. Dirty pots sat on top of my stove. I was pissed the fuck off. I’ve been sick, and this is how this nigga had my place looking? Where is that little grown-ass daughter of his? I stormed off, heading up the stairs.
I walked over to Briana’s door and knocked a few times, but there was no response. I heard music blasting through the door, so I pushed it open. There she was, lying on the bed with her phone in her hand.
“Hang up the phone.”
“No, I’m not, and what are you doing in my room?”
“Hang up the gotdamn phone.” I lunged toward her.
“Back up, lady. You got issues. Where’s my daddy?”
“Why is my kitchen looking like that? Scratch that. Why is your room looking like this? You have my shit looking like a fucking pigpen. You need to bring yo’ ass downstairs and clean up my kitchen, then get up here and clean your damn room. I don’t know what kind of filth you’re used to living in, but this is my shit, and you damn sure ain’t gon’ live like that in my house.”
“I need to call my daddy ’cause you trippin’. It’s your kitchen, so you clean it up.”
I turned around and looked at this little bitch. Who the fuck does she think she’s talking to?
“Who the hell are you talking to? You little, ungrateful-ass girl. I took you in, gave you a great home, fed yo’ ass on the daily, and all you do is run around here being disrespectful. I don’t see yo’ no-good mama or your daddy doing shit. How the fuck you think you living this good? Me, little girl. I make this happen. Now, get the fuck up and go clean up this shit.”
I didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, I walked over to the stereo and unplugged that shit. Then I made my way to the television and unplugged that shit as well, grabbed it, and made my way out of the room. Then I returned for the stereo. By then, her ass was on the phone with someone. I’m hoping it was her trifling-ass mama, so I can also address that bitch. I was sick of her little ass and wouldn’t tolerate any more of this shit.
“You doing all this, and my daddy still don’t want you. I hate you and can’t wait until Daddy sees you for the wicked bitch you really are.”
“I’m not going to sit here and argue with a little ill-mannered-ass child that still don’t know how to wipe her pussy properly. You got an hour to clean up the kitchen and your room. If you don’t do it, you need to contact one of your parents, or both, to come get yo’ ass. Two grown bitches can’t live under the same roof, and since this my shit, you need to find somewhere to go.”
That was it. I had nothing else to say to her grown ass. I already see my life slipping away behind her ass. Yes, I know I’m grown, but these little bitches be coming out the mouth fly as hell. I wish I could punch her in her mouth, so she could know that I’m a grown-ass bitch, and this is not what she wants. I slammed the door behind me and called her father.
“Hey, love. I was just thinking about you.”
“Hey, you need to come get yo’ damn child out of my house before I catch a case on her ass.”
“Huh? Calm down, baby. What’s going on?”
“I’m calm, but you need to bring yo’ ass home to get your child.”
I didn’t wait to hear shit he was saying. I hung up. I was angry as hell. It wasn’t healthy for me to feel this much anger. I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to calm my nerves. Instantly, I got a tension headache. I got up, took my pill bottle off the dresser, and took two pills. I had a water bottle on my nightstand, so I swallowed them. I was so angry that I was shaking. Then I lay on the bed, trying my best to bring down my anxiety.
I was so caught up in this shit with this little girl that I forgot to call Jasmine, so I called her number and waited.
“Hey, girl, I forgot to call you.”
“I figured you were busy, but I just got in. I’ll be over there in an hour.”
“Okay, boo.”
I thought about making an excuse not to see her, but I needed to see my friend. She was the one closest to me and would always tell me the truth, regardless of whether I wanted to hear it.
* * *
Jasmine was at the door, so I walked downstairs. I opened the door to let her in.
“Hey, girl.” She rushed in, hugging me like she ain’t seen my ass in years.
“Hey, boo. Come on. Let’s go in the sunroom.”
“So, tell me how you really feeling?” she said as she took a seat across from me.
“Giiiirl, I still don’t know, and you know what’s crazy? I can’t remember shit about me falling out.”
“What you mean, you can’t remember anything?” She looked at me strangely.
“I remember me being in bed. I wasn’t feeling too good for a few days. But that day was worse. I could barely walk. Jihad had to bathe me.”
“I ain’t no doctor, but this shit don’t sound right. So out of the blue, you just started feeling sick? Now, your memory gone? And nothing shows up in your tests?”
“Girl, I’m just as puzzled as you.”
“What does Jihad think is wrong with you?”
“Girl, he’s just as lost as us. He was at the hospital every day with me.”
“Was he, and he didn’t think he should pick up the phone and call me?”
“Girl, he was scared. He found me on the ground and went into panic mode.”
“Hmm, I hear you. Listen, we need to get you to a specialist or something. This shit here don’t sound right to me. Sounds like one of those ID channel stories.”
“Bitch, here you go with yo’ old investigating ass.”
“You joking and shit, but I’m serious. I need you to get a second opinion. How do you feel now?”
“I’m feeling like a brand-new person. That’s why I think it was just my body telling me I need to chill out.”
“Let’s hope so . . . Anyway, I know you said you didn’t have him sign the prenup, but do you have a will?”
“A will? Damn, bitch, I said I was sick, not dying.”
“I know what you said, but because your hardheaded ass didn’t get that nigga to sign a prenup, I need to make sure you have a will. You not too young to have a will. Trust me, I see people our age die and don’t have a living will. Don’t you forget, you have an elderly mother that you’re responsible for. Would you like something to happen and Jihad gets everything, leaving your mama out in the cold? Baby, I know you’re still dick drunk, but I’ma need you to think with your head and not your pussy. This nigga lied about how much money he had. Then you found out he another broke nigga. What else are you waiting to find out? You’re my best friend/sister, so I’ma make sure you handling your business.”
“Brooklyn, what the hell happened between you and Briana?” Jihad busted through the door, yelling.
“You see Jas right here. Can you lower your damn voice?” I said to this nigga.
“Man, I don’t give a fuck. I come home to find my daughter in tears and her mama calling my damn phone over twenty times ’cause you called her a bitch and tried to hit her. What the fuck is going on, Brooklyn?” That nigga got in my face.
I stood up. “Don’t you dare come in here yelling at me in front of my company like I’m your child. Matter of fact, why the hell don’t you get her ass out of my damn house?”
“What, bitch? Ha-ha, so you showing off in front of company?”
“Bitch? Nigga, you is the bitch. I don’t give a fuck about y’all relationship, but one thing you won’t do is disrespect her in front of me.” Jasmine stood up and jumped in Jihad’s face.
“Bitch, stay the fuck out of our business. Matter of fact, you need to get the fuck out of my house,” he yelled at Jas.
“Your house? Nigga, where the fuck were you at when Brooklyn bought this? You know the truth, Jihad? I never liked yo’ ass. Matter of fact, I told my friend she shouldn’t marry your broke ass. My friend might be in love with your ass, but I see you for the piece of shit you are. You broke, you a fucking liar, and don’t worry. I’m not going to stop until I find out what you’re really up to. Shit, instead of talking crazy to her, you should be kissing her feet ’cause she picked up your ass and put you up in a mansion.”
“Oh, this is what you and this bitch been talking about?” he turned to me and asked.
“Get the fuck out of my face, Jihad.”
“Oh, so you sidin’ with this bitch?”
“I don’t mind being called a bitch ’cause I got a pussy, but what is your excuse for your bitchassness? Brooklyn should be the man, and you should be one spread-eagle and let her fuck you.”
“Jas, oh my God. Stoooop.”
“You right. You know what? I’m sorry, friend. I forgot you still love this bum-ass nigga. I’m gone. Call me when you finish with his ass.”
“Really, Brooklyn? You gon’ stand there and let this ho carry me like that?” This nigga looked shocked.
“Get the hell out of my face, nigga.”
I didn’t wait for a response. I walked off and opened the door, but Jas’s car was gone. This shit was fucking ridiculous. I ran up the stairs to my room. This nigga lost his gotdamn mind and shit. I also wished Jas would’ve shut the fuck up. Now, both of them in their fucking feelings. Fuck my life, I thought.
Twenty minutes later, Jihad walked into the room. “Yo, when you got with me, you knew I had a daughter. We talked about this before, and you said it was cool for her to come live with us. Am I correct or not?”
“I said it was okay for your child to come live with us. The thing is, you didn’t tell me her ass was grown. So first, she brought her man into my house to screw him, and now, her ass disrespecting me. I don’t know how she talks to you and her mama, but I’m not her parent, and I’m not going to tolerate her little ass disrespecting me like that.”
“She’s a child, for God’s sake, Brooklyn. You should know how to deal with children since that’s your business.”
“Don’t fucking include my job. I get paid for that shit. This right here is fucking charity. So again, you need to call her fucking mother, so she can come get her disrespectful-ass child.”
“This is my daughter we’re talking about. She is our responsibility,” he yelled.
“Incorrect, Jihad. That is your fucking child. She is your responsibility,” I lashed out.
“Well, if my daughter has to go, I’ll leave too. I thought we were going to work on this marriage, but I guess not.” He looked at me and shook his head.
“Jihad, I don’t care what you do. All this fucking talking is not going to change my mind. So, if you’re leaving with her, please do so.”
I was done talking to this nigga. I wasn’t changing my mind. That little bitch had to go, and I wasn’t changing my mind, even if it meant me losing my husband behind it. He stomped out of the room, calling me every name but the name of God. I was tired and didn’t feel like going toe-to-toe with this nigga. I decide to call Jas. I know her ass was mad.
“Hello,” she answered with an attitude.
“Damn, bitch, I’m only calling you to check on you.”
“I’m good, but you need to go check on that fuck nigga that your loyalty is with—”
The phone went dead. “Hello, hello . . .”
The line was dead. I can’t believe this was my best friend/sister carrying me like this. What the fuck did I do to her? Fuck this. I need some kind of explanation. I dialed her number about four times, and her voicemail came on each time. Either she blocked me or turned her phone off. Either way, her ass was out of pocket. Shit, to be real, Jihad was talking to me, and she jumped her ass into it. I didn’t ask her to defend me. I’m a big girl. I can fight my own battles.
I needed a strong drink after all this shit, but I didn’t want to go downstairs. I was done with Jihad for the night and couldn’t risk bumping into him. So instead, I pulled the cover over my head and rocked myself to sleep.
Jihad
I don’t know how niggas got multiple bitches and still maintain a clear head. But these two bitches were getting on my gotdamn nerves. Alyssa was the love of my life, and I was willing to do any and everything for her ass, but her little stank-ass attitude been getting on my fucking nerves. I beat her ass once, and lately, I feel like beating her ass again. The only thing saving her is the fact she’s carrying my seed.
Now, this bitch Brooklyn was a whole different case of madness. This bitch really thought my ass, a fine, young brother with a good dick, could be in love with her ass. Let’s get this clear. This bitch’s sex is boring as hell, and her pussy dry as hell. More than once, I had to spit on my hand and rub her clit. Shit, from the minute she walked into my place of business, signed up, and used her Visa card, I knew the bitch was paid. This was right around the same time I was going through money problems. I needed a way out, and this bitch looked like the perfect bitch to give this dick to. But now that I was married to the bitch, she thinks she owns me. Bullshit. I’m just buying time to get rid of her ass.
I sat in the car, hitting the blow while I waited for Briana to finish taking her stuff into the house. I know I should’ve waited, but I was angry and was feining. The minute the blow hit my brain, I felt like a new person. I glanced in the mirror and saw my daughter walking back to the car. Shit. I hurriedly checked my nose in the mirror and quickly wiped away the spot of cocaine sitting on its edge.
“Daddy, I’m going to miss you so much,” Briana said as she leaned in my window.
“Baby, it’s only for a few weeks. But trust me, Daddy has some things planned.”
“Love you, Daddy.”
I reached in my pocket, pulled out my wallet, took out $200, and handed it to her.
“Thank you, Daddy. You’re the best.”
“Nah, baby, you the best. Well, let me go before yo’ mama comes out here with her drama.”
“I know, right? I love you, Daddy. Talk to you tomorrow.”
I watched as she skipped back into the apartment complex. This only increased the hate that I felt for Brooklyn. This bitch was cold and had no heart. She threw my daughter out like she was garbage, and for that alone, that bitch will pay.
* * *
I was about to pull off when my phone started ringing. I looked at the caller ID. It was an unfamiliar number, but it could be a new client.
“Hello, Jihad speaking.”
“Hello, Jihad. This is Trina.”
The name didn’t ring a bell, but I didn’t want to come off rude by letting the caller know I don’t know her.
“Hello, love, how are you?”
“Do you remember me?”
“Uh, nah, but you can jog my memory real quick.”
“We had a threesome together.”
What the fuck? Is this a game? I figured it was one of the bitches I’ve fucked before playing game on me. I had to proceed with caution.
“Umm, I don’t recall.”
“Jihad, let’s cut out the fucking bullshit. You, me, and Alyssa had a threesome at her house.”
Damn, I wasn’t expecting this. Still, I was curious to hear why she was calling me.
“Wait, is something wrong with Alyssa and the baby?”
“Noooo, relax, Jihad. Alyssa and the baby are just fine. I called you to talk about me and you.”
“Me and you?” I was confused. I had no idea what this bitch was talking about.
“Jihad, listen, from that night that we fucked, I can’t seem to get you off my mind. I mean, you can’t tell me that I’ve not crossed your mind. I could tell you was loving the way I sucked your dick.”
Was this some sick-ass game that this bitch and Alyssa had cooked up? These bitches had me fucked up. Yes, to be honest, that bitch’s mouth was fire, and her pussy was wet and tight like she ain’t been fucking. The memory of that bitch put a smile on my face.
“Listen, Trina, I don’t know what kind of test this is, but you can go back to your girl and let her know I didn’t fall for the fuckery. I only want her.”
“Jihad, you really think I’m setting you up? I want to fuck you again. To show you how serious I am, I will send something to your phone.”
“I hear you.”
She hung up without saying another word. I shook my head at this craziness. This day just got way crazier than I could imagine. I cut the music up and pulled off. Alyssa’s ass think she slick; hell, this was one of the oldest games. Bitches always use their homegirls to flirt with their nigga to see if the nigga will flirt back so that they can say the nigga cheating. Not I. I was too slick to fall for this bullshit.
