Don't Mess With the Carter Boys: The Carter Boys 3

by Desirée

  “Can we get a ride?” a girl asked as I started Elijah’s truck. She and her three friends stood out there in their dresses, with weaves done to perfection, eyebrows drawn on like artwork, looking like they were freezing.

  “Honey, how the fuck did you get here in the first place?” Tyree asked.

  I continued to ignore them, looking over at Elijah, who was messing with Ontrell, acting like a little boy.

  “Nigga, quit hitting me!” Ontrell snapped with a laugh before popping a quick one upside Elijah’s head.

  “Our ride already left us, so we just trying to—”

  “Mm-hmm,” Tyree cut in knowingly. “Get y’all asses in the trunk.”

  “Aye, nah! They can ride! Let ’em sit in the back seat with y’all!” Elijah blurted out. The girls immediately climbed in at his admission.

  “Nah-uh! Hold up!” Tyree screamed as they climbed over him just to get close to Ontrell and Elijah. There were five people in the back, with one sitting on Ontrell’s lap.

  “Are y’all ready?” I asked softly, hearing Tyree snapping on one of the girls. There was too much going on, with Elijah already turning around to flirt. So, I just backed out and started going, following behind the long line of cars all heading to the same place.

  When I say this was the most stressful ride anywhere? I almost pulled over to get out myself.

  “Nigga, you can get the fuck out if that’s how you feel,” one of the girls said. “Ain’t nobody disrespecting you, but if you keep talking to me like you—”

  “What the fuck are you gonna do, bitch?” Tyree snapped.

  I sighed, watching Elijah collect a number from one of the other girls right in front of me. It never failed. Drunk or not, he held his alcohol well, so he knew exactly what he was doing. He was just trying to push me again, to see how far he could push me before I snapped.

  “Aye, both of y’all chill out. It’s no space in here for y’all to be arguing.”

  “That’s because it’s too many fish in this damn truck,” Tyree mumbled as I pulled up to a red light. Elijah rolled his window down, yelling out to the car beside us.

  “Nigga, where the fuck you going?” he yelled out.

  I leaned forward to see Anthony and his load.

  “We going to the Spring Lounge to party with them Carter boys. Where the fuck you going at, bitch-ass nigga?” he responded with a laugh.

  “Ahh, shit! We trying to fuck with them Carter niggas too!” Elijah laughed as Anthony sped off, ignoring the red light. “Drive, Jordyn! Catch up to that nigga!” he yelled, trying to take the wheel as I smacked his hand away.

  “Elijah, you need to stop!” I snapped just as another girl leaned forward.

  “I wanna sit on your lap, Jodie!” she whined with a pout.

  “Ahh, hell no,” Tyree muttered. “I’m sorry, boo, but you a fucking ho with no manners or respect. You see his girlfriend sitting there.”

  “She’s not his girlfriend.” The girl laughed. “Not what he told me in the house—”

  “I don’t have a girlfriend,” Elijah let out.

  I looked at him, seeing him smirking to himself. He was trying to see how far he could push me. At least that’s what it felt like. I let him get away with so much, because he thought I would never leave him.

  “Bruh, you better chill, man,” Ontrell warned.

  “No, let the girl sit in his lap,” I said softly as I continued to drive peacefully. “Elijah thinks he’s cute right now, acting this way in front of other girls because he knows I won’t do anything.”

  “Couldn’t be me, boo. Let any one of these hoes in this car try me—”

  “You gon’ do what?” another girl snapped as they started going at it with the arguing.

  The girl who was pouting made her way in the front seat, straddling him as his hands came around her waist.

  “Oh, nah-uh! You gon’ let him do that, Jordyn?” Tyree shrieked, and Ontrell shushed him.

  “He can do whatever he wants,” I mumbled, feeling my heart racing as I continued to drive, not once looking in the passenger’s seat.

  “Jordyn won’t do shit ’cause she don’t give a fuck like I do. Any ho can come up to me and get at me, and she’ll just be standing there on the side like, uhhhh,” Elijah mocked, and the girls laughed.

  I continued to drive, a small smile on my face as we came to another red light. He was definitely trying it tonight, but it was cool. You should know me by now in this story and how I reacted to his childish bullshit. I didn’t. Rarely did I ever pay attention to it.

  “You just gon’ sit there and take that, Jordyn? Couldn’t be me,” Tyree said again, stirring up the pot some more.

  Glancing at Elijah, I watched him playfully pretend like he was going to kiss the girl, who played with his dreads as she tried kissing him back.

  “So, you really about to do this in front of me, Elijah?” I snapped angrily.

  He looked at me with a sly grin.

  “You ain’t finna do shit no way,” the girl retorted, popping her gum at me.

  “What you want me to do, J? Yo’ walls all scratched up from that abortion. I can’t fuck with you for a few weeks, so where am I gonna find some—”

  “Bruh!” Ontrell snapped, slapping him hard against the head.

  All the girls gasped, and I felt my entire body become numb. Nobody but Trent was supposed to know about . . . fuck it. I unbuckled my seat belt so fast and got out of the truck as the light turned green.

  “Jordyn, hold up! He didn’t mean it!” Ontrell yelled as I slammed the door shut.

  I watched the girl climb in the driver’s seat as the car horns from behind started going off. The girl waved at me with a smile before pulling off just as I started walking toward the nearest gas station. I left my coat in the truck, so I was out there with no money and no phone. I didn’t care. I was done. Regardless of him loving me or not, I wasn’t about to take that from anyone. Elijah had become too comfortable with me and my nonchalant nature. He always wanted me to react and be dramatic like him, but not everything in life called for that.

  Being careful not to get hit, I looked around for a payphone before deciding to go inside, needing a place to stay warm. The man obviously looked at me suspiciously, but what was I going to steal with this skin-tight stupid outfit on? Walking around the store for a bit, I looked around for a public phone on the counter, or maybe a wall, before deciding to walk back outside, hoping no one would try anything.

  I should have never got out that damn truck. Fuck!

  Looking around the small gas station, I could see a payphone far off, but just as I started to walk up to it, a truck pulled up in front of the store, nearly blocking me off. With my arms folded across my chest, I continued walking to the phones, hearing the truck door slam shut.

  “Aye, the fuck are you doing out here?”

  I turned around, seeing Shiloh standing there in his coat, hands in his pockets, legs wide as he looked at me, confused. As if my night couldn’t get any worse.

  “Where is my brother?”

  “I got out the car and they drove on,” I muttered, teeth chattering as I continued to walk to the payphones.

  Hearing the bells chime, I figured he must have gone inside the store, so as I made my way to the phones, I checked to see if any loose change was inside.

  “Jordyn, you are better than this. Look at what the fuck you got on,” I mumbled, looking down at myself. I would never be caught dead in something like this, but I wore it because he wanted me to. Everything down to my hair, nail color, and shoes were all Elijah. Leaning against the phone post, I watched Shiloh walk out of the store. He looked around before spotting me. He stared; I stared back, watching him get back in his truck.

  He backed up to where I was and rolled the window down. I heard jazz music playing softly throughout the truck. He was staring at me with those droopy eyes. I folded my arms across my chest once more.

  “So, you need a ride or nah?”

  I
nodded as I pulled the door open and slipped inside the warm vehicle. We sat in silence for a few minutes, coming to another fucking red light, because suddenly, Atlanta didn’t want anyone to fucking drive.

  “What’s with these red lights?” I snapped to myself before looking at Shiloh, who glanced at me. In that moment, in that second, all I saw was Elijah—the exact same stupid face. Without warning, I hauled off and hit him dead in the face, right on the cheek. I gasped, seeing Shiloh was too late to block the punch.

  “What the—”

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” I shrieked. “I didn’t mean to—you looked like Elijah, and I’m just so—”

  “The fuck?” Shiloh flipped loudly as he touched his jaw, cheek turning red. “I’m not that nigga! Twice the nigga’s age, and twice the nigga’s complexion! Fuck is wrong with you?”

  “I’m sorry,” I cried.

  He grew silent. He was still upset, but I don’t know; something in me just felt like I was ready to let it all out.

  “Why is it that if I do the same thing he does to me, it’s a problem?” I asked.

  He looked at me, eyes squinting. He remained quiet.

  “He let it be known that I had an abortion, saying my walls were scratched up,” I mumbled. “Picked out my outfit, won’t let me talk to certain people anymore, and I let him do it because I thought I loved him. I thought that’s what love is about,” I said, looking at Shiloh.

  “I really don’t give a fuck about this, shawty, to be honest with you,” he said blatantly in a dull voice, switching lanes. “I got my own fucking problems to deal with. Where am I taking you? I got a couple errands to do, so you’re just gonna have to ride, but am I taking you home or nah?”

  “Take me home,” I answered softly. “I don’t—”

  “Don’t gotta talk,” he said, cutting me off.

  I nodded and leaned back in the seat. He was the only brother I didn’t like. Now you can see why. It was like talking to a brick wall on fire. If you even get close to it, let alone touch it, you’re going to get burned.

  I watched him get on the highway. He touched his jaw again, and I rolled my eyes. Get the fuck over it, dude. I didn’t even hit you that hard.

  “You lucky my brother got a thing for you, shawty,” he said, rubbing his jaw.

  “That’s what they keep telling me. I’m lucky, yet here I am in the car with you, watching what I say so I don’t make you upset, while he’s off partying with God knows who,” I let out sarcastically, hands thrown in the air in defeat. “Real fucking lucky.”

  He said nothing, but I continued, feeling ready to vent again.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you all? All of you Carter boys! Trent is so shallow. He can’t see when he hurts someone if they were crying in front of his face. Elijah takes advantage of someone’s kindness for weakness. Manipulates me into thinking I’m all he wants when really, he just wants sex. Do you know that he brags to all his friends about me?” I let out as Shiloh kept his face stone cold, looking forward. “Brags to them about how I let him have multiple girls in the bed with us, and how I’m the best he’s ever had, blah blah. I know my sex is good; I’ve mastered the art form. I could have fucked anyone. I could have had Trent, because Lord knows he’s tried it! A couple of times! You!”

  He looked at me with wide eyes, mouth slightly open. “Hold up, shawty. You ain’t even gotta worry about me coming on to you. I don’t even find you attractive,” he stated.

  I sarcastically laughed. But you couldn’t stop staring at my body? Oh, okay. What do the cool people say these days? But that’s none of my business? Sips tea? Yeah, you don’t find me attractive. Okay.

  “I don’t even know what your problem is, but you are the rudest person I ever met! How can you talk to your own mother like that? You have brothers that look up to you, and to see all of them gang up on her in that hospital because you did it? That was disgusting!” I spat, feeling like I was on a roll.

  He sat up straight, looking back before switching another lane.

  “I don’t know who your girlfriend is personally, but I consider her lucky she doesn’t have to put up with you—”

  “Aye! Whatever the fuck you got going on with E? Leave me and my girl out of that shit. Don’t put her name in yo’ mouth; don’t put my mama name in yo’ mouth; and don’t ever lay yo’ fucking hands on me again. If I call my mama a bitch, that shouldn’t have shit to do with you.”

  “It says a lot about your character,” I mumbled.

  He cocked his head back before nodding slowly. Suddenly, he slid over to the far-right lane and pulled over. I sat up, looking around, wondering why I even ran my mouth. I wasn’t like this with Elijah, so why did I suddenly feel the need to be like this with the scariest brother?

  Cutting the truck off, he turned and looked at me. His eyes were low but hard as he stared at me.

  “Who the fuck are you?” he asked abruptly.

  My eyes grew wide, with my mouth struggling to find words.

  “Huh? Who are you, shawty?”

  “I’m not anyone—”

  “Let me tell you something,” he continued. “Growing up, I watched my dad beat on my mama for all the reasons he could think of. When the triplets were born, he abused the fuck out of Elijah and Trent in every way possible!” he spat as my eyes grew wide. “When they were little babies, shawty. You fucking with li’l babies like that,” he let out, voice cracking. “Nigga, you sick as fuck in the head!”

  I felt my eyes water up as he continued.

  “They don’t remember that shit, but I remember everything. I tried telling my mom what I seen this nigga do almost every night, and she wouldn’t believe me, until one day, she saw that shit for herself. What did she do? She confronted that nigga, with my li’l ass right behind her, ready to fight. On and on again, he would go after her.

  “I tried defending her, until I became of age, when I was looking like I could be a threat to this nigga. I already knew how to work a gun, knew how to make money, and had Elijah following behind me. Everything I learned, I watched my pops do it. How to make, sell, spend, and double whatever I had, I watched him do it. Despite how I felt towards him, I told myself I was going to be bigger and better than him. I was gonna raise them niggas to be a man, even though I was still learning my damn self. But I didn’t want my pops nowhere near the triplets. If they were going to be influenced by anyone, it was going to be me.

  “First time getting locked up, my mama called the cops on me, because I almost beat that nigga to death. They asked me was I trying to kill him. I said, ‘Hell, yeah. And if y’all don’t lock me the fuck up right now, I will make sure I finish the job.’

  “Why I call my mama a bitch? She let that shit happen. She decided to believe that nigga, even though she saw it with her own eyes!” he finished.

  “They don’t remember any of this?” I asked, barely above a whisper.

  “Nothing. If you ask them what they were like when they were five years old, they couldn’t tell you shit. Any normal person could remember when they were four or five. They somehow blocked that shit. Nigga would lock them in the room for days at a time, shawty. Only time he would let them out was to take them somewhere, and they’d be gone for several more days. Only them two. He didn’t fuck with Olivia.

  “My mama was running behind after him on the streets. When our grandma got us, shit started to change, and I told her I wasn’t going back, and I wasn’t allowing the triplets to go back either.” He shook his head at the thought.

  “Was he on any type of drug?” I asked, watching him sit back in the seat, eyes closed as he calmed himself down.

  “Cocaine. Runs in the fucking family,” he let out sarcastically in a low voice. “That’s what we sold back then: cocaine, weed, crack, and pussy.”

  “Did your dad sexually abuse you?” I asked, watching his jaw clench as his closed eyes tightened up. My chest began to grow stiff with nerves for him. I felt tears building up as I immediately leaned over the
seat, wrapping my arm around his head to bring him close. I didn’t know this man from a can of paint, but I pressed my forehead against his and held it, wishing I could take away whatever weight he was carrying for him and his brothers.

  Softly, I began to speak in Spanish, telling him everything would be okay. I told him to keep strong and let go of whatever he was holding inside. He quietly gripped my wrist, pulling from my body, with us connecting with the eyes. I would like to think I took some of his pain away, even if temporarily, but everything he said still had me in shock.

  Hearing the cars zoom by on the highway, we sat in silence. I took his hand, grasping his tight fist.

  “He should be in jail,” I stated, watching him smirk as he opened his eyes.

  “Nigga should be dead. Jail is a luxury to niggas like us. He should be dead. You see how the fuck Ontrell is. Ask him how he knew he was gay. The nigga will say he was always like that. Nah, bruh! You were forced into that shit! Ain’t nobody just born fucking gay!” he snapped angrily.

  I begged to differ, but this wasn’t the time to state that.

  “Do the other brothers know?” I asked.

  “Anthony and Jahiem know, because that’s who I was with all the time when we were out running the streets. Ant don’t bring his kids to see that nigga, and he never will. He saw that shit for himself, too, but Ontrell don’t remember, and we don’t ever plan on telling them, because it will fuck with yo’ head if you know some shit like that.”

  “I understand,” I said, letting go of his hand. These men were walking around, living it up, having no idea they were messed with when they were younger. Yet, Shiloh had to carry that burden with him always, because he saw it firsthand. And the simple thought of him not knowing if he was ever touched in any manner made it worse. I couldn’t even imagine. It made me look at him in a whole new light. He was protecting them in so many ways by keeping that with him, and that gave me so much newfound respect for him.

  Looking at him, I could see he had his eyes closed in deep thought.

  “It wasn’t all bad, though,” he said suddenly, looking at me. “Just like every other big-ass family, we have our demons and shit.”