The Faithful Side Chick, page 18
I pulled up in the driveway and glanced at the time. It was almost midnight. I pray this bitch Brooklyn was already sleeping. I was sick of her and the mood I was in, if this bitch said the wrong thing, I might catch a case tonight.
Suddenly, a text message came in, and I quickly checked it. Holy Jesus, son of God, was the first thought that popped into my mind. About five pictures came in of this bitch showing her freshly shaved pussy. Shit . . . I squirted in my seat. My dick started throbbing, moving around in my boxers, screaming to be released. I used my hand and grabbed it, trying to calm it down. Why is this bitch playing with me like this? Like I won’t fuck the shit out of her phat ass? I dialed back the number she had called me from earlier.
“What do you want?”
“I want you, Jihad. I’m going to text you my address. I’ll be waiting for you, butt-ass naked.” She hung up immediately.
My heart was telling me to go tear up this pussy, but my mind was telling me it was a setup. Don’t do it. I sat in the driveway, weighing my options. I took a few more glances at the pics in front of me. Then I glanced at the crib, turned on my engine, put the address in the GPS, and pulled off. I ignored all the warnings that my mind was giving me. I was high on the blow, my dick was throbbing, and I wanted to fuck. It was a chance that I was willing to take.
I pulled up to the parking lot and looked around to see if Alyssa’s car was parked anywhere. I didn’t see it, and the parking lot was quiet. I grabbed the bill that had the rest of my blow in and also the small amount of what I had left. Then I quickly exited the vehicle and looked for the apartment number. This wasn’t the best side of town, so I moved carefully. I should’ve taken my gun out of the truck. I saw the door slightly open, so I knocked.
“Come in, boo,” a voice yelled out.
A little voice in my head kept saying, “Nigga, leave now,” but I ignored it and stepped inside.
In front of me stood this chick butt-ass naked with everything hanging.
“Pick up your lips, love, and close the door,” she said, interrupting my thoughts.
“Huh? Shit, I’m tripping.” I turned around and closed the door. “So, what is this all about? I thought you and Alyssa were best friends?” I quizzed, regretting I mentioned Alyssa’s name.
“Jihad, yes, she is my best friend, but I enjoyed fucking you, and that is something worth risking our friendship over.”
She moved toward me and pushed me down on the couch. She was a little stronger than I thought. Then she wasted no time pulling down my sweatpants and releasing my dick.
“Yo, I forgot to stop at the store and grab some Magnums.”
“What you need those for? My pussy clean, and I’m on the depo. So, we good. I’m feeling horny as hell and don’t want to waste another second.”
“A’ight, shorty, I hear you.”
Shorty dropped to her knees and instantly took my dick into her mouth.
“Aw, shit, this is what I’m talking about,” I whispered as my dick touched the back of her throat.
I stretched my legs out and closed my eyes. This was some good shit here. Not sure how long this bitch has been sucking dick, but she was a beast at it. This is some shit a nigga would love to wake up to every day.
* * *
“Bitch, take this dick; take this dick. Who is your daddy?” I yelled out as I fucked her from the back. I had her at the edge of the bed with her body on the bed, and her ass scooted back up on my dick while I held her ass cheeks apart. She screamed as I thrust in and out of her.
“Aweee, daddy, give me that dick. Oh shit. Nigga, I want you bad. Jihad, yes, shit, yes,” she screamed.
Her screams excited me more as I beat up the pussy without mercy.
“Oh shit, my pussy. Fuck, oh my God,” she screamed out.
I was about to bust and wasn’t easing up. Her pussy hugged my dick tight as I slid in and out. I gripped her ass tighter, pulling her down on the dick and preventing her from moving.
“Oh shiiiit,” I yelled between clenched lips while I exploded up in her pussy. My legs buckled under me, and I almost lost my balance. Then finally, I pulled my limp dick out of her and fell on the bed.
I closed my eyes, trying to savor the moment. After a few minutes of lying there, I sat on the bed.
“You good, love? I hope this ain’t it for us. You got some bomb-ass dick, and I want it on the regular. Shit, ain’t nobody got to know we fucking.”
I looked at her. I was about to say some off-the-wall shit, but shit, her head game was fire. Shorty snatched my soul. I know she and Alyssa were friends, but shit, it ain’t my problem. It ain’t like I’m trying to wife the bitch. I’m only trying to fuck.
“I definitely want to see you again. We just need to be careful when we’re around Alyssa.”
“I got you, daddy. Trust me. She won’t know anything going on.”
She got up and walked out of the room. I jumped up and got dressed, then looked at my phone. I had multiple missed calls from Alyssa, followed by some texts. Shit, I was tired as hell and needed sleep.
She walked back into the room dressed. “Aye, it’s late, and I got work in the morning.”
“Okay, I understand.”
I walked out, and she followed me. “A’ight. Shorty, I’ma hit you up later.”
“Okay, boo.”
I looked around nervously as I stepped outside. Everything seemed normal, so I jogged to my car. I sat in the truck, opened up the bill, and snorted a few lines of the blow before I pulled off. Then I cut on the music as I cruised down the streets. It was late at night, so the road was empty. I was feeling great. I let the window down, allowing the cool breeze to sweep inside the truck. I haven’t felt this good in a long time. I just hope it lasts.
I paid for a hotel for the night. I was too tired to fight with Alyssa or Brooklyn. I was in a good mood and didn’t want any one of these bitches to fuck it up. After a shower, I snorted some blow and lay there. I had to figure out my next move.
I knew Brooklyn was at work in the morning, so I went to the house and grabbed some clothes. I wanted to teach this bitch a lesson. She can’t treat me any old fucking way and expect not to feel my wrath. I put the clothes in my truck and drove to Alyssa’s crib.
I planned on spending a few days there so Brooklyn’s ass can learn.
Chapter Twenty-one
Brooklyn
This was one of the days that I felt like I could do without working. The last few days were stressful. It’s been three days now since I’ve seen Jihad. I’ve called him multiple times but got no response. I know that I told him I didn’t give a fuck if he left with his daughter, but I miss my husband. I missed how we used to laugh and how he made me feel. Lately, all I’ve been feeling is anger.
I also didn’t feel like being around people. I know I was coming off as selfish, but how can I sit around all day trying to fix other people’s problems when my marriage is falling apart, and I can’t fix that?
“Mrs. Lewis?” Alyssa entered my office.
I quickly wiped the tears that were flowing down my face. “Yes, is there a problem?”
“No, I was telling you I was going on my lunch break . . . Are you crying?”
“No, go ahead, hon.”
“Brooklyn, I might be young, but I’m no fool. What is it? Is it my cousin? Don’t tell me he’s giving you trouble. I swear I will hurt that boy. Wait, is it another woman?”
“Why would you say that? Have you seen him with another woman?” I looked at her for confirmation. Shit, she was his family. She might know something more than I do.
“Oh no, never. I know my cousin loves and adores you. But he is also a man, and I know sometimes they don’t know what they have until it’s gone.”
“I’ve never caught him with another woman, but I’ve always suspected there was someone. The late nights, him disappearing. The signs are there.”
“Let me ask you a question . . .” She looked at me.
“Go ahead.”
“You’re an educated woman with money. If he was cheating, and you found out, what would make you stay with him?”
“Alyssa, you’re young, so there might be some things in life you’ve yet to learn. When I married him, I married him for better or worse. I put a lot of time and effort into this relationship. There’s no way I will sit back and let some little ghetto-speaking, hoodrat bitch come in and take away my husband. I’m willing to fight for mine.”
“Wow. I hear that. Jihad doesn’t know how strong your love for him is. I don’t think he’s cheating. He ain’t that stupid to risk it all for some ghetto-speaking, hoodrat bitch.”
“I have no proof, but if I find out, he will regret fooling with me. Anyway, you know what? This all personal, plus that is your family. Go feed the baby. Go on.”
“Okay, I’ll be back in a few.”
After she left, I sank into my chair. It felt good letting that little bit of steam off just now. I swear I miss my husband and how we used to be close. Shit, I miss smelling his cologne. Why is he behaving like this? Is there another woman in his life? Tears welled up in my eyes. We haven’t even been married a year, and we already have problems.
* * *
My intuition kept telling me to stop by the gym to see how things were going. So I did and noticed the parking lot was semiempty. This was weird ’cause this was usually the busiest time for the business. Hmm, strange, I thought as I walked into the building. A few people were inside, but it looked like a ghost town, unlike the packed gym we’re used to.
I saw his brother, Jaseem, as soon as I walked in. He was talking to a woman, so I waited for them to finish their conversation.
A few minutes later, he walked over to me. “Hello, Brooklyn. How are you doing?”
“I’m good. I’m looking for your brother.”
“Huh, why would you be looking for him here?” He shot me a strange look.
“What are you saying? This is his place of employment, right?”
“Brooklyn, you’re married to the man. I thought I told you before you need to talk to him about his business.”
“Wait. I have a right to fucking know. It was my fifty grand that helped save this business.”
“Ha-ha. For you to be such an intelligent woman, you sure be acting green. If Jihad had put fifty grand into this business, the bank wouldn’t have repo’d it. We have thirty days to vacate this building. He paid off what we couldn’t pay on the current mortgage. See, barely anyone is in here. I put my life into this, and that no-good husband of yours ran it into the fucking ground. I lost every fucking thing in this shit. My wife’s threatening to get a divorce and move up north with my children. I have nothing—not a gotdamn thing. Excuse me, but I got shit to do. I don’t have a rich wife to write me a big check,” he lashed out as he walked off.
I was stunned at his level of anger. I wanted to run behind him and comfort him, but I saw the pain in his eyes. I know he was angry, and it was best I leave him alone. I took one last look at the place before I dashed out.
* * *
As I drove down the street, all kinds of thoughts entered my mind. I cut Jihad a fifty-grand check. If he did not give it to the bank, what the fuck did he do with my money? This nigga . . . this nigga. Lies after lies. So, if he ain’t been working, what the fuck has he been doing? The better question is, where the fuck has this married man been sleeping? I felt myself getting angrier by the second. I know I wasn’t 100 percent well, so I tried my best to calm down.
“Lord God, I need a sign. Show me a sign that this man is not for me,” I whispered as tears rolled down my face.
I was happy to be home from work. I was tired mentally and physically. I just needed a quick bath, something to eat, and to get some rest. I remember the doctor warning me not to overdo it too soon. I saw Jihad’s truck in the driveway as I pulled in. I haven’t seen his ass since the other night, so what the fuck was he here for? I wanted to confront him, but I needed to keep my mouth shut. I need to get to the bottom of what was going on first. Plus, I was too tired to deal with him and his bullshit right now.
I grabbed my briefcase and exited the car. Opening the door, I walked in. I was about to head to the stairs when Jihad appeared from the kitchen.
“Hey, baby,” he said while smiling.
“What do you want, Jihad? A few days ago, I was all kinds of bitches, and now, I’m ‘baby’? What the fuck you want?” I gave him a cold-ass look.
He took a few steps closer to me. “Listen, Brooklyn, I’m so sorry for everything I put you through. I swear I just need a few minutes of your time to hear me out. I promise if you’re not satisfied after we talk, I’ll pack my stuff and give you a divorce.”
I looked at him. I wanted to tell him to fuck off, but I loved this man. This is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I was angry with him, but part of me was soft on him.
“Okay, but I’m telling you, I’m not making no promises. I can’t keep living like this.”
“I understand, babes. I’m making your favorite meal.”
“All right. I need to freshen up real quick.”
I let go of his hand and walked up the stairs. I don’t know how to read this man. It’s like he has two personalities. I shook my head and walked into our bedroom. Stepping out of my clothes, I walked to the shower. This warm water was giving me life right now. I closed my eyes, slowly soaped up my body, and washed from head to toe. I needed to relax my mind, and this was exactly what I needed to clear it.
By the time I finished freshening up and walking downstairs, he was finished cooking. I walked into the dining room, where he had the room in a romantic setting. Candles were lit, and “A House Is Not a Home” by Luther Vandross was playing.
His eyes lit up as I entered the room. He quickly walked around and pulled out my chair. Wow. This was the Jihad that I was used to. I took a seat as he placed my food in front of me. The smell quickly filled my nose. I was hungry and eager to take a bite.
Luther was certainly putting me in a mood, along with the glass of red wine he poured me. He finally took a seat across from me. We sat in silence, eating our meals. I must admit, the food tasted way better than it smelled. The steak was so tender it melted away in my mouth, just like I love it. This man definitely has some hidden talent, I thought.
“Here, I’ll help you clean up.” I got up out of the chair.
“Oh no, this your night to be off. I got this, so go sit in the living room and relax.”
“Oh, okay.”
Shit, I was too tired to fight with him. I lay on the couch with my eyes closed, listening to the sultry voice of Luther sweeping loudly through the speaker. Lord, is this the sign that I asked you for earlier? If it is, I welcome it with open arms.
I felt someone touch my leg. When I opened my eyes, it was Jihad kneeling in front of me.
“Hey, babes, sorry to startle you, but there’s something that I need to say to you.” He took my hands and placed his face in the middle.
This seemed serious, so I braced myself, just in case. If this nigga said some bullshit that I didn’t want to hear, I was going to snap. So, I sat there staring him dead in his eyes.
“Brooklyn, ever since I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Truth is, I didn’t have all the money that you thought I had. I was almost broke, with only a few thousand in my account. But I didn’t let that stop me. I used it to take you out and eventually used the rest to buy your ring. I’m just a regular dude trying to make it with a woman I knew was out of my league. I love you, Brooklyn, and I know I fell short, but if you give me just one more chance, I can show you I can be everything you need me to be. I swear I can, Brooklyn. I will even move out so you don’t feel pressured.”
I looked at him, and he was crying. Not no fake tears; genuinely real tears. This man was broken. I rubbed his face as I pulled him closer to me. What did I do to this man that led him to believe it was all about the money? Tears welled up in my eyes. A queen’s job is to lift up her king, not drag him down. I felt bad. I mean, I love niggas with money, but that wasn’t everything. I wanted love. Here, I have a man that loved me, and because his account wasn’t stacked, I’ve been treating him wrong.
“Oh God, no, I got to fix this.”
“Come here, baby, come here,” I tried to pull him up on the couch.
“Jihad, listen to me, boo. I’m so sorry if I made you feel like it was all about the money. I mean, yes, I wish my husband was doing great, but I know life isn’t set up like that. You could’ve come to me and let me know. I would’ve still married you. Shit, I would’ve taken a less expensive ring. Baby, I love you, and I don’t care if you rich or poor. I still want you.” He lay his head on my chest, and I placed my face on his.
We cried together as we professed our love to each other.
“Jihad, you know, maybe we need to pray.”
“Pray?”
“Yes, I’m not no religious person, but I feel like if we ask God to guide us, we will find our way to happiness.”
“I agree, babes.”
Without another word, I let go of him, and we dropped to our knees. I remember how my grandmother used to have us pray daily. I used some of her words. I prayed for God to lead my husband and me on the right path. It was no long prayer, but it was enough for God to know we needed help.
“Babes, I want you to know this is a new beginning for us. I got some things lined up that will bring some huge money in. Babes, trust me. Your man got a degree and the hustle to go out here and make it happen. All I need to know is my baby is behind me 100 percent. I can do any and everything with you beside me.”
He was in an upbeat mood and was smiling. That prayer did us good. We need to start going to church on the regular now.
