Meant to be Yours

by Sequaia

  “Coming to the stage, she’s a newbie, but fine as fuck, fellas. Give it up for Sunny Rae!” The DJ announced me, and the tune of Beyoncé’s “Dance for You” came through the speakers. Adrian had my stage name covered. He’d started calling me his Rae, or Sunny Rae, not long after we made things official.

  Slowly, I strutted from behind the curtain, swaying my hips, simultaneously doing a belly roll. Adrian wanted Diamond, but I would give him and every other man in this building her times three. No shade, but my moves were better, and movie role or not, I. Could. Act! Making it center stage, I spun my back to the crowd, closing my eyes tightly. I mouthed, “and scene,” before reopening my eyes and going off. Pulling up on the pole, sliding down into a split, twirling around, removing my bra, and the men went wild. By the time I finished, the stage was covered in cash, and I was ass naked. It was all good until the reality of what I’d just done set in, causing me to feel sick to my stomach. It took me some time to collect my money with one hand while I used the other to cover my chest. Once it was all inside the black trash bag, I bolted off the stage, right into a bright-eyed Adrian, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

  “You did it, baby,” he cheered. “You were everything I knew you’d be and more, babe.” He lifted me off my feet, spinning me around as the other women looked on with smug expressions I chose to ignore. The butterflies in my stomach were fluttering like crazy. Adrian’s enthusiasm made it somewhat easy to ignore them. His open affection made me feel good.

  “You damn sure gonna get that role in the movie.” For some reason, when he told me that, I was taken back to the day he rescued me from Mike. I trusted Adrian because up until now, he hadn’t given me a reason not to. But something about what I’d just done to get a role I still wasn’t positive I’d get made me feel uneasy. I promised Nijah that once my gut told me something wasn’t right, I’d follow it. I felt liberated and accomplished moments ago, and it changed so rapidly. There was nothing ordinary about that.

  * * *

  Standing in the bathroom of Adrian’s home, I leaned forward over the sink to get a good look in the mirror. I examined my face, zooming in on my right eye. The blood vessel that had burst, leaving me with red scarring, was finally barely noticeable. And the blue and black bruise that once decorated that same eye was now a light red against my butterscotch complexion. It was light enough so that I could cover it with makeup, which I was thankful for. I had been off work for almost a week, nursing my bruises, and I was more than ready to get the hell out of this house.

  Opening my makeup drawer to the left of me, I removed my Fenty foundation and applied it to my face. Crazy how I’d gone from not knowing how to do makeup because I didn’t wear it to damn near a pro with applying it to my face. The new skill wasn’t by choice. It was due to necessity. Wearing large shades to hide bruises drew more attention to my face. The same thing I would be trying to hide became the same thing to make me more noticeable.

  After watching a few YouTube tutorials, makeup became my saving grace. Even with makeup, I hated that I didn’t feel as beautiful as I knew I was. I always received compliments on my butterscotch complexion, hazel eyes, and thick, curly hair. As beautiful as all my features were on the outside, years of abuse prevented me from fully embracing them on the inside. Stepping back from the mirror, giving myself one last glance, I exited the bathroom toward my closet.

  “What you about to do?” Adrian’s voice boomed from behind me, making me jump. Shutting my eyes tightly while I clasped together the last two buttons of my white uniform shirt, I took a deep breath to settle my nerves.

  I slowly turned around, and my sad eyes met his cold ones.

  “I’m going back to work at the café today.”

  “Is that right?” He sucked his teeth, and I watched as his amber-colored eyes darkened.

  “Yeah, it’s been a little over a week since I’ve been. I want to go back, so I don’t lose my job.” My voice cracked as I spoke, afraid that he was going to flip out on me. The café was my sanctuary, though he didn’t care for me working there. Today was the last day that Adrian would see me. After stripping in the club for him, I promised myself that I would back off of him, and I did. I didn’t tell Nijah why I was putting a halt to our relationship, just that I wanted to get back focused on me. Of course, she was happy, and I felt good about my decision. So why did I fall for his crying and pleading a week ago? He called, wanting to apologize in person for making me feel like he didn’t care and asking me to strip, blah blah blah. And I let him pick me up. The night started well. Then he lost it. He yelled, telling me how much he’d done for me and all that he sacrificed for me and how I owed him . . . The moment I tried to leave, he knocked my ass out. When I came to the next morning, I looked exactly how I felt . . . like I had gotten my ass beat. He cried, apologized, and begged some more, and though I had no intention of staying with him, whatever we had was over. But I stayed for this past week because I didn’t want Nijah or Ms. Jackie to know. Yeah, it was stupid of me to keep them out of it, but they’d done so much for me already that I didn’t want them in this kind of drama, and if he didn’t hesitate to kick my ass, I didn’t want to chance him hurting either of them.

  A wolf in sheep’s clothing, that was the best way to describe Adrian. It was either that, or he had been pretending to be this guy who cared for me for over a year—only to show me the complete opposite. I trusted him, cared about him a lot, and now I couldn’t wait to get as far away from him as possible.

  “Rae, baby, you love me?”

  His question caught me off guard, and unintentionally my face revealed my confusion and disdain. Loving him was the last thing on my mind. However, he asked a question, leaving me no choice but to answer in a way that would make him happy. Before the answer could leave my mouth, the back of his hand met the left side of my face.

  Covering my stinging cheek with my left hand, I put as much distance as possible between us before the wall prevented anymore.

  “You didn’t even give me a chance to answer,” I cried, crouched down against the wall, holding myself like a frightened child.

  “If you couldn’t respond right away, the love ain’t there. You were getting ready to lie to me, Rae, baby, weren’t you?” He leaned down over me, leaving no room to escape if I wanted to.

  “Noo,” I whined. “And I do love you. I just can’t take you hurting me.” Half of what I said was true. The other half—a lie. The love was gone. The hurt I absolutely couldn’t take anymore.

  “I’m not going to hurt you anymore, all right? That was the last time. Don’t call yourself ignoring me again, and we’ll be good.”

  “Okay.” I conceded with no reluctance, though it wasn’t an answer I believed in. Honestly, I hadn’t felt real love since Prentice.

  “Good girl. You know you can never leave me, right?”

  “I don’t want to. I only want the man I first met to come back.”

  Nodding his head, he chuckled as if I just told a joke. Adrian kissed my forehead before walking away.

  I sat there, not feeling sorry for myself but determined. When the front door shut, my nerves settled, encouraging me to my feet. Sitting on the bed, I removed my phone from the nightstand, sending a text to my Nijah for a ride, as my screensaver snagged my attention. It was my very first professional headshot, taken after my first year here in L.A. It was also the headshot that landed me my first and only commercial a year after that. That commercial was supposed to be the beginning of my acting and modeling career, but, of course, it was a one-and-done kind of thing.

  Sighing, I shook off thoughts of my failed career, knowing if I further indulged in the ideas of what could have been, I’d drive myself crazy. Not a full minute passed before Nijah replied, “Okay,” as I knew she would. I hadn’t seen her all week, so I knew she would have a ton of questions when she picked me up. I wasn’t in the mood to answer any of them, and I wouldn’t until I was ready.

  Nijah: I’m outside.

  Rea
ding the text, I stood, slipped on my shoes, grabbed my purse, then headed out the door.

  “Don’t look so thrilled to see me,” Nijah said sarcastically, looking me over with a stank face.

  “I’m sorry, Nahji. Today isn’t a good day,” I explained, using the nickname I gave her.

  “You had better days when you weren’t with that fuck nigga,” she stated, gaining an eye roll from me. There was no question of whether she cared for Adrian. He didn’t care for her either.

  “Not today, Nahji,” I groaned, laying my head against the window.

  “Then when, Aúrea? Because I know you have to be more tired of that nigga than me. He’s not good for you. I don’t know how you went from coming over here to ‘hear him out’ to staying for a damn week.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about Adrian anymore. I’m really done with him. Like it’s over for real. The week here did nothing but make me realize he was never who I thought he was.”

  “Good. I’m holding you to those words.”

  11

  Aúrea

  With the pen and notepad in hand, I followed an older couple to their booth waiting for them to sit comfortably before taking their order. Today was going smoothly for a Thursday, which was unusual because it was usually the busiest day of the week. Ms. Jackie cooked her famous pot roast, mac and cheese, and 7Up cake. I can’t even lie. It was good as hell, and like the customers, I couldn’t wait to dig in. Ms. Jackie put her foot and soul into everything she made, and the patrons knew it, which was why they kept coming back. Plenty of celebrities frequented her establishment, making it one of the most popular places on the West Side of Los Angeles.

  What I loved most about this place was that no one was better than the next in here. It didn’t matter one’s stature in the streets or corporate building. Everyone gave respect, and everybody was equal in here, no matter what. Ms. Jackie was the second person since Nijah was the first to tell me not to be so down on myself when I became depressed, not landing any more acting gigs. Working here kept me grounded and independent.

  After taking the couple’s order, I gave the order to the cooks before excusing myself to the restroom. I didn’t even have to use it. I just needed an excuse to get off my feet for a moment. I pulled the toilet seat down and sat on it to gather myself. I hadn’t sat a good four minutes before the door opened.

  “Aúrea, you in here?”

  Rolling my eyes, I stood and flushed the toilet for nothing before stepping out of the stall, making my way to the sink to wash my hands.

  “What’s up, Chanelle?” I forcefully greeted my nosy-ass coworker. She meant well, but I didn’t really mess with her because she was nosy and talked too damn much. I knew so much about people who came in here, and none of them told me their business. After she trained me, I thought we would build a genuine bond, but she wasn’t the type of woman I wanted to call a friend.

  “Your order is up, and I think your man just walked in here.”

  She peered at me with a sly smirk. Her ass didn’t “think” anything. She knew exactly who Adrian was, and it was also obvious she had a thing for him. Most of the girls here had a thing for him because he was fine as hell. Still, looks were very deceiving. I was sure sis didn’t want them problems. Hell, neither did I, which was why I was done with him.

  “Thanks,” I threw over my shoulder, leaving her standing there. When I walked into the kitchen, I grabbed the food for the couple at my table and headed their way. My eyes landed on Adrian, who was also seated in my section, and before I could make it over, Ms. Jackie stopped me.

  “Aúrea, you know I don’t do drama in here. I also won’t allow him to disrespect you. Now—”

  “There won’t be any mess, Ms. Jackie. We’re good.” I cut her off, hoping I was being honest. I hadn’t told her that I was done with Adrian yet, but I guess she could tell from my body language that I wasn’t happy to see him. I forced a smile, then stepped to my table, putting the food in front of the customers.

  After being assured they didn’t need anything else from me, I made my way to Adrian.

  “Took you long enough to get over here,” he spat before rising to kiss me on my cheek.

  “I had to finish with my customers first.” My tone was low, wanting to keep wherever this conversation was going between the two of us.

  “I guess.” He shrugged. “Look, Rae, baby, I wanted to apologize for the way things went down at the house. You pissed me off.”

  “Really?” With furrowed brows, I glared at him. I knew this boldness I felt came from being in a room full of people. It also stemmed from the conversation I had with Nijah. Adrian was full of shit.

  He looked me in the eyes, and as always, when I was pissing him off, their amber color darkened.

  “Yeah, really.” He sucked his teeth while cocking his head to the side.

  “Since we’ve been together, Adrian, I submitted to you, doing something I never wanted to do because you asked me to.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Adrian lunged at me, taking me roughly by the wrist. He scared me and caught me off guard. My high-pitched squeal drew attention to us.

  From across the restaurant, Ms. Jackie loudly cleared her throat, forcing Adrian to look around to see where the sound had come from. Releasing a light chuckle, he let go of my wrist by practically throwing my hand down.

  Glaring at me, he spoke. “We’ll finish this when you get home. Yo’ ass is mine,” he threatened through clenched teeth. The joke was on him because there was no reason for me to return to that house, and I wasn’t.

  My eyes followed him as he exited the café, feeling a sense of temporary reprieve . . . which was short-lived as I noticed all eyes on me. Ashamed, I hurriedly made my way to the back of the café to the break room. Surprisingly, no one came in to bother me, and I appreciated having the time to myself. Sitting at the table, I bit my nail as my foot shook nervously. I knew I messed up.

  “What to do, what to do,” I mumbled, biting my lip, my legs shaking. I would have to figure out a way not to have to deal with him anymore.

  “You can’t hide back here forever.”

  With joyless eyes, I peeked up to see Ms. Jackie with a smirk on her face and hands on her hips. Should’ve known that she wouldn’t let me stay back here forever.

  “Sorry about Adrian.”

  “Child, never apologize for the actions of a man. If you find yourself doing so often, then he’s not the man for you. Now, we’ve had multiple conversations about your situation, so it’s not going to be discussed now. You’ll know when you’ve had enough. Only you know when you’re ready to bow out. I just pray it won’t too late. Chanelle’s about to go to break. You have two minutes to pull it together because your section is full.” She walked over to me, providing me with a motherly hug before walking out. She was right. And I had had enough. Times like this, I missed the one guy who would never hurt me.

  Prentice.

  12

  Prentice

  Driving through the front gate of my home, I sat in my car for a minute, staring at my crib in awe. Three years in this bitch, and I still was marveling at the fact that it was all mine. All five bedrooms, three-and-a-half baths, and 2,000 square feet. Not to mention the acre that was my backyard. Exiting my Tesla and hitting the alarm on my key fob, I made my way to my door. My hand moved to my waistline as a precaution where my. 38 was tucked before opening my door.

  “Alexa, turn on all the lights,” I directed, locking the door behind me. Not many people knew where I lay my head, and no one was crazy enough to try me in my home. Still, I could never be too certain. So I always made sure to keep my gun at my side. After I told Alexa to turn on all the lights, I waited for my trusty sidekicks to meet me at the door. No sooner than I thought about them, they were rushing toward me.

  “What up, Rocko and Chuck?” I grinned, swatting their happy asses down. Rocko was my blue nose pit bull, and Chuck was my Rottweiler. They were the most loyal niggas I’ve met
in my 23 years.

  Since they were so happy to see me, as usual, we played around for a few minutes before heading to my bedroom with their asses trailing right behind me.

  Stepping into my walk-in closet, I removed the Js on my feet, placing them in their rightful spot. Shoes were my weakness, and with as many as I owned, I could easily fill my own Foot Locker, front and back inventory. I removed the only chain I wore from around my neck, a diamond-crusted cross, placing it inside my jewelry box in my closet before removing my True Religion jeans and a white tee and tossing them, along with my boxers, into the laundry bin. The shower was where I found contentment, the only place I could think without any distractions.

  As the warm water fell over my low, curly cut, I smiled, reflecting on the moves I made today. I paid off the restaurant for Mr. Lewis on top of securing a new connect and made my most trusted worker, who happened to be my best friend, the next nigga in charge. I could officially sit back, collect money, and step in only when necessary. Shit felt wonderful. I worked myself up from a corner boy to the HNIC within three years. This wasn’t the life I had planned, nor was it the life that chose me. But after losing my heart and balls five years ago, I needed to do something to prove to myself that I wasn’t the bitch I felt I was at the time.

  Soon after, I graduated high school with honors and a few full-ride scholarships to college. I decided it was time to man up. Like most young, Black males, I took to the streets to get my balls back. Fighting, gun-toting, and selling drugs was how I proved that I could hold my own and take care of matters when necessary. My hands were never a problem, even though I never fought much in school. The few times I’d been tried, I made examples out of my opponents, and no one else my age wanted to square up. It was in the streets amongst other hustlas and gangstas that I had to show why niggas didn’t want to fight me. A couple of TKOs under my belt in the hood and I earned respect while instilling a little fear as well. After the cops picked me up for selling weed, my mom was done with me, so I went back to the only person who I knew wouldn’t judge me—Mr. Lewis.