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

by Desirée

  “Beautiful. She is absolutely amazing,” a man said, coming up behind me as we shook hands. “I want to talk to you about having you perform in France for the ballet.”

  “There she is!” someone else called out.

  I looked up, seeing two guys walking up to me with all smiles. Everyone was dressed in their finest gowns, tuxedos, and suits, looking stunning in the concert ballroom hallway as I mingled with the guests, all wanting to meet me. I had on a red gown to stand out in front of the all-black orchestra that accompanied me, with my hair pulled back and glasses on. Elijah broke my granny glasses in half by crushing them during sex. I think he did it on purpose, but he bought me another pair, slimmer and a bit more stylish. Yeah, pretty sure he broke them on purpose.

  Looking around again as I pretended to listen to the conversation, I spotted a tall black man with dreads walking to the glass doors. I smiled, feeling myself getting excited. He came. Elijah actually came. I knew he wasn’t going to make my performance due to scheduling differences, but he said he would dress up for me.

  “Jordyn?” someone called out as I tuned back in, looking at Dale, the man who made this all happen. “Why don’t you play something for these lovely people? Give them a taste of your imagination.”

  I smiled, holding the violin up in position as I began to play, eyes watching Elijah as he hung back, coat in his hand, watching me. To be honest, I had no idea what I was playing. I just knew that certain notes sounded good when played together, so I went with that as he came closer.

  I wanted to scream. Seeing him in a suit for the first time was not all that I’d imagined. His locs were braided back into a ponytail, and he was wearing all black, including a tie, as he stepped closer with a lick of his lips. He knew he looked good, too. I wished he would have covered up the tattoos on his face, but I saw he tucked the chains in, keeping it simple with an all-black Rolex.

  As soon as I stopped playing, I thanked everyone who clapped, raving on and on about my name, before I walked up to Elijah. My mouth dropped as I looked him all the way over.

  “I look good, don’t I, shawty?” he asked, licking his lips. His low-lid eyes were smiling just as much as his mouth with that cheesing grin.

  “You look amazing,” I said, arms coming around his neck as we hugged.

  “We still going to the peach drop, or whatever the fuck fruit they dropping?” he asked, kissing me on the side of the face.

  “Just a ball I think.” I laughed, kissing him on the mouth before taking his hand to introduce him to some of my people. He wasn’t able to transition like Trent, unfortunately, but it was funny seeing their reaction when he spoke.

  “Elijah is a beautiful name,” one lady commented. He nodded with a smile. “Do you two have plans later on?”

  “Shiit,” he let out, looking at me.

  The lady’s face nearly froze on stiff, giving that infamous white-person smile when they’re uncomfortable around black people but trying not to show it. “She already know what my plans are for the night. She trying to see this whatever drop in Times Square, so I said I’m down with it, but she already know what the fuck I’m trying to do.” He smiled sneakily at me.

  “Oh, wow,” a man said awkwardly, looking at both of us as I tried my hardest not to laugh.

  On that note, I said my goodbyes and dragged Elijah out of there. The parking was unbelievable, and the crowd was even crazier. I had to take the train to get there, since certain streets were closed off.

  People started recognizing him and wanted to take pictures as we stood in the freezing cold, waiting for this ball to drop. I had something I wanted to tell him the moment it hit midnight. So, as the countdown began, I grabbed his hand, seeing girls were trying to get close to him, sneaking pictures. As soon as the ball hit, the fireworks went off, lighting up the sky.

  He turned to me. “I love you, Jordyn,” he said, kissing me, cold lips hitting mine as we held it together, his hands gripping my lower back close. “Let that shit last you the whole year, because I ain’t saying it no more,” he said, and I laughed.

  “I love you too, and I’m pregnant again,” I said quickly, kissing him once more.

  He pulled back with a shake of his head and a smile. My mind was already on another abortion and a better birth control option. Not only did we use a condom to prevent it from happening again, but we even said we couldn’t go through another abortion, so no pregnancies could happen with us. Yet, here we were.

  “I don’t know how it happened, though!” I shouted toward him over the loud crowd.

  “We’ll just have to deal with it, shawty,” he said, shrugging with a weak grin.

  I looked hard at him, wondering if he knew something I didn’t. Before I could even ponder on the thought, he leaned in and kissed me once more.

  “We having a baby, Jojo!”

  “We’re having a baby,” I repeated, barely whispering it over the loud noise as we smiled at each other. God knows I wasn’t ready to have a damn child. Neither was he, but . . . wow.

  I’m going to be a mother with the man I met at the gas station.

  Tia

  “Do you think she will like me?” I asked, smoothing my hair back.

  Jahiem looked at me as he drove down east Atlanta, hitting close to Little Five Points near Moreland Ave. It was the beginning of January, and my man was only here for a day. He was going back to California tomorrow morning with his brothers.

  “You’ll be a’ight, Tia. My mama is cool. She don’t have a mean bone in her body,” he said with a shrug. “Told you to wear something comfortable, though, because she’ll probably have you sit on the floor.”

  “Even though I’m pregnant?” I asked dully, looking at him. Nobody was going to allow a pregnant woman to sit on the damn floor.

  “Okay!” He laughed, hands in the air. “You know Tonya Hayes better than me. Where you think I be getting half my shit from? All that organic stuff in the fridge, the soaps, and lotions? The yoga? She teaches that shit.”

  “That don’t have nothing to do with her having basic furniture in the house,” I snapped as he shook his head.

  “You’ll see,” he mumbled.

  We stayed quiet as I nervously looked out the window, wondering what she was like. I mean, I made up my mind a while back that Jahiem, although we had a rocky start, was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Even though there was a small chance that these kids weren’t his, he came to terms with it. At least, that’s what he said. He had no problem throwing that shit in my face when we argued.

  All in all, though? I’d say last year taught me so much. I grew up so fast. I left some friends in the past and made some new ones for this year. Noelle and I hung out when we could. Porscha was still, and would always be, my bitch, but she was going in a different direction than me. My mind was on finishing school and maintaining a household with this nigga. She was still trying to turn up.

  I became close with Jahiem’s brother’s wife, Toni, who was only two months ahead of my pregnancy. Turns out, we both didn’t take shit from neither one of these niggas, and we had no problem expressing that. We already said that as soon as these babies were born, we were both going to go celebrate by smoking a blunt and having a girl’s day out while the men took care of the kids.

  Jordyn still wasn’t fucking with me. We barely talked, even though I heard she was pregnant. Since she wasn’t speaking, Elijah’s following ass didn’t speak either. I told Jahiem about it, but he just said he worships the ground that woman walks on. If Jordyn wasn’t with it, neither was he, and there was nothing he could do about it. As long as he was respectful about it, that’s all that mattered. Whatever, though. She didn’t have to speak, but we were the women to be raising the next generation of Carters. At some point, her scary ass would want to speak, so I wasn’t bothered.

  I hadn’t heard from Jade, and I didn’t give a fuck. I—

  “Aye, you hear me?” Jahiem asked as he turned the car off.

  I lo
oked around the thick neighborhood with houses lined up on hills. There were all kinds of houses in different colors, with the patio porches in the front instead of the back. The house we were at had a porch that wrapped around to the sides, and multiple cars lined up alongside it.

  “This is where you grew up at?” I asked, looking at the giant tree in the front yard—no leaves on it, but it was decorated with Christmas lights. I could see an older man sitting on the porch, smoking a thick-ass blunt, maybe a cigar. He was sitting in that rocking chair, straight chilling.

  “Yeah, most of the time anyway. I was always with Shiloh and Ant,” he said, getting out of the car.

  It was one of those random days in Atlanta where the weather seemed like it was trying to give you a sneak peek at spring. So, I had on a light hoodie with some cute jeans and riding boots that went perfect with my top underneath. My hair was in an afro puff, and I wore no makeup and hardly any accessories.

  I took Jahiem’s waiting hand, and we walked up to the porch, opening the door before stepping onto the wooden plank. I saw the man in the rocking chair had his eyes closed.

  “Who is he?” I whispered, looking up at Jahiem. I watched him squint his eyes at the man before shrugging.

  “Shit, I don’t know. My mama pick up stray niggas from the street all the time,” he said, opening the door. “Mama!”

  I gasped in awe of her house when we walked in. The smell of incense burning hit my nose hard as I looked at the lack of furniture, the wooden floors that were shiny, and colorful decorations that hung from the ceiling. Pictures of Jahiem and Talin when they were kids hung on the wall. I even spotted Toni and Talin together in a few pictures when they were in middle school. So much African art decorated her space. Tall statues, and even a man-made water fountain sat in the corner of her dining room.

  “In here, baby,” she called out as we walked toward the living room.

  Her living room was spacious, with pillows and mats lined up everywhere for people to sit. Three girls were sitting with their legs crossed, eyes closed. A brown-skin woman with thick locs laying on the floor turned toward us, smiling before standing up.

  “Oh my God, your mom is beautiful,” I mumbled, watching her push her pepper locs back as she held her arms out for Jahiem. She was a tiny woman, slender frame, with long, knee-length locs. She was wearing all types of bracelets, beads, and rings, with beautiful skin. She looked more like Talin, but I could see Jahiem in her face for sure.

  “Let’s go in here and let them meditate,” she said, pushing us back toward the dining room as she dropped a beaded curtain barrier down to block off the living room.

  “Who you got up in here with you, Mama?” Jahiem teased, moving her locs back as she playfully hit him. “And who the fuck is that man sitting out there?”

  “He’s been sitting out there for days now,” she said, waving him off as my mouth dropped. “I make him breakfast and dinner, and he just stays. Never leaves. I told him eventually he would have to go.”

  Jahiem walked toward the front door, opening it, and looked to his left at the man. “Nigga, get the fuck on from my mama’s porch. She’s not feeding you no more.”

  “This boy here,” Ms. Tonya and I said at the same time before we looked at each other and laughed.

  “So, tell me, Tiana,” she said, linking arms with me as we sashayed into another side room. It was decorated the same, with huge sitting pillows and rugs, with multi-colored curtains and artwork. There really was no furniture.

  “Yes, ma’am?” I pressed as she looked at me, both of us the same height, before rolling her eyes.

  “Honey, it’s not that serious. You can call me Tonya. What I want to know is, when are you going to let me cut your hair?”

  My mouth dropped. She started touching my ’fro, twisting at the ends. “It’s a lot of heat damage and dryness, baby. You need to let this go, or it’s not going to grow.”

  “Cut it all off?” I freaked.

  “Just to give you a low cut. You have the face for it.” She smiled. “What are you using on your skin?”

  “Oh God, you sound like Jahiem.” I sighed, and she laughed. I saw where he got it from, the constant nagging about my appearance.

  We spent five minutes talking about what I used on my hair and how I should maintain it, along with my skin. I started telling her about the yoga he’d been having me do, when he walked in, hugging his mom once more. Kissing her on the cheek, he looked just like an overgrown mama’s boy. It was even cuter since he was twice her size, towering over her small frame.

  “Where the food at? I know you got some,” he pressed as she pushed him away.

  “Go look in the fridge upstairs. I brought some stuff back from home for you to take, since I knew you were coming.”

  As soon as we were alone again, she had me sit down on the pillows as she sat in front of me. The ray of light hitting through the curtains was just enough to shine on both of us.

  Smiling at me, she took my hands. She was definitely a spiritual older woman. I could feel it, more so than look at her and know.

  “You love my son. That I do know,” she said with a soft smile. “I can see it in the way you look at him.”

  “I do,” I said, nodding.

  “I know he loves you just as much, and he is very excited about the three girls coming into his life. Nervous, but excited.”

  I continued to nod, eyes never leaving hers.

  “So, all I’m going to ask of you is to protect him. I know he’s grown and thinks he knows the world, but protect him, because he is still reckless at times. I see a little bit of that in you as well, so maybe you two need to protect each other from this fucked-up society we live in. Protect each other from outside pain and heartache, and protect your family. I raised both of my sons to love and respect everyone, but to stand up for their beliefs and not to take shit from no one. You understand?” I nodded. “I expect the women, their partners, to be the same way, if not stronger.”

  “Can I ask a question?” I asked hesitantly.

  She nodded, eyes never leaving mine.

  “How is it that two brothers that are extremely close grew up completely different?”

  “Oh, man!” She laughed. “His father, Marion Carter, got a hold to Jahiem’s mind before I knew any better. I was too busy chasing after the hot niggas on the street—the dope dealers and the niggas with the fancy cars,” she said.

  I laughed. Sounded like me.

  “So, when Talin was born just a few years behind, I was coming into my own, and I’d gained so much knowledge from my past mistakes. Well,” she said thoughtfully, looking up. The hood chick definitely came out of her then. “I was still fucking with Marion, but even so, I knew being with a man like him wasn’t good for me. Jahiem already made up his mind he wanted to be like his daddy, so I said, ‘Go on then, since you think you grown. Get locked up and arrested, give the white man a reason to talk shit about us. Whenever you ready to get some damn sense, bring yo’ ass home. Until then, don’t come around my house with that foolishness, nigga,’” she said easily. She really was cool as hell.

  “Now, both sons are preparing for fatherhood, and I couldn’t be more excited. Welcome to the family, Tiana,” she said with her arms out.

  We hugged, and I promise y’all, I could have cried. I’d never felt like I was a part of my own damn family, but here she was, taking me as her own.

  “Thank you.” I smiled, pulling back.

  “Only thing I will say, and I told Toni this, even though I considered her a daughter long before her and Talin were together. If you hurt my son in any way, shape, or form,” she said, looking hard at me, “know that I am the wrong mama to cross when it comes to my boys. I will fuck you up my damn self if you fuck with my kids. You hear me? Don’t let these beads and this spiritual shit fool you. Born and raised in Atlanta, just like you, and I can get back to those roots if I need to. The wrong bitch to cross, and the wrong mama,” she said as I quickly nodded.

&n
bsp; She smiled before helping me stand to my feet. “Now, let’s go cut this hair. I can’t stand looking at damaged hair, honey.”

  Noelle

  So, I guess, everyone is giving a snippet of their life now to end the book, huh? Everything is good on my end so far. New year, new attitude, new beginnings.

  Shiloh and I spent Christmas together with my family, who had a hard time accepting him at first—or just my dad did. But my mom and grandma loved him. Dad barely spoke two words to Shiloh, who didn’t care either way.

  I started a new job, and I was in the process of moving into a better neighborhood. I was constantly praying for Shiloh when he got taken to the police station on a regular. They were trying to accuse him of murder, with three charges against him, but they could never find the evidence to prove it. Either that, or the cops working for him were the same ones pretending to hold him in. I don’t know. I never asked. Only thing I said to him was, “You are close to thirty fucking years old. Stop the madness, Shiloh. It’s time for a change, because I don’t want my life to be surrounded by that type of drama. I can deal with your wild brothers; I can even deal with your crazy family, but this? No. SMH. Hell, no. We are grown and way better than that. Too old to be fighting and shooting people and trying to live that lifestyle. Get it together, babe. Seriously.”

  * * *

  I was in the car with Tyree, on our way to Layla’s house. I had a bone to pick with her. It was Friday night, cold as heck in the beginning of January, with Tyree driving my car, trying to hype me up.

  “I told you she wasn’t really down for you like that! Girl, I know how to sense a ho from a mile away! You can smell them bitches before you see them! Layla has been wanting our nigga for the longest!” Tyree said as I cut my eyes at him. “Bitch, he’s my man just as much as he’s yours. Don’t play.”

  “I can’t believe she would do something like that this whole time.” I sighed, looking at a message from Shiloh, asking me not to go over to Layla’s house.