“Corey, stop it! I lied to you years ago when I said I didn’t love him. I love him. Better yet, I’m in love with him.”
“Listen, I told you what I want; I want to be a father to my son. I gave you enough time, so either you tell him or I’ma let him know.”
I walked up to him and put my arm around his neck.
“Baby, there’s no need for you to tell him. I’ll tell him myself, and then we can be a family. I just need a few more months to get this money, so we can start over. He’s supposed to be hitting me off with over a hundred grand,” I lied.
His face lit up like Christmas lights. “Oh yeah? Damn babe, you ’bout to hit the jackpot. Shit, take your time and get that paper off that fool.”
“Thanks babe. I appreciate you doing this for me, for us, and for our son.”
“Aiight Shorty. Lemme use the bathroom.”
I watched as he walked to the bathroom. I let out a long breath.
“What the fuck is this nigga on?” I mumbled under my breath.
“Corey, I don’t mean to rush you, but I got some things to do before Josiah gets home.”
“Okay, okay, no sweat. Just hit me up when you’re free and keep that pussy tight fo’ me.”
“I got you,” I smiled at him.
Soon as he walked out the door, I made sure I locked it and leaned against it. God, what am I going to do? I thought. You a boss bitch, don’t panic, a voice in my head answered. I made sure the door was locked again, picked my clothes up off the floor and put them in the dirty bin. Then I stormed off to the shower—had to wash this nigga’s cum out of my pussy. God, why couldn’t he just stay away? There was no way I could tell Hassan that Josiah was not his son. That would mess up everything. I meant everything! Tears started flowing down my face. There was no way I was going back to being broke. I knew if Hassan found out I wouldn’t get the house and he would cut me and my son off.
Hassan Clarke
I was beyond pissed. How could I have been so freaking stupid as to leave the receipt for Destiny to find? And as always, she showed up and showed her ass in front of my clients. That bitch made the worst mistake of her life. It was one thing to confront me, but when she started fucking with my money, it was a new ball game.
I decided to call it a day after a few hours. I was too upset to handle any kind of business. Going home was out of the question, because I might’ve beat that bitch up if she came at me with any more drama. I decided to drop by to see Imani and my son. She left work in a rush today; I knew it had something to do with Destiny showing her ass earlier. I had so much on my mind. My mind was racing and I wanted it all to end. I planned to go see a divorce lawyer tomorrow. It was time to get this miserable-ass bitch out of my life for good.
As I pulled onto Imani’s street and close to her address, I saw her car pull in, and another car pulled up beside her. I watched as she got out and a dude in the other car also exited his vehicle. They walked together, she opened the door, and they went inside.
I tried to call her phone, but I got no response. I wondered who the fuck that nigga was? I wanted to knock on her door, but the lawyer in me told me not to. I waited for about twenty minutes before the nigga came out the house. As he walked toward his car, I noticed his face looked familiar. When he got close enough, I realized I did know him; it was my right-hand man Corey. I was really thrown off. . . What was Corey doing coming out of Imani’s house? If I recalled correctly, he never liked her. As a matter of fact, he used to tell me how she was a freak and she couldn’t keep her legs closed. I sat there wondering when they had become friends.
I was tempted to jump out and beat his ass, but that nigga might’ve been strapped. Instead, I waited for him to pull off, then I walked to the door and rang the doorbell.
“Hey babe,” she looked surprised.
“Hey yourself. Listen, this is strange: I could have sworn I seen my old partner pulling out of the parking space.”
“Really? That is strange,” she said.
“Bitch, why you lying?” I slapped her in the face.
“What the hell you just hit me for?” She lunged toward me.
I pushed her down on the sofa.
“I’ma ask again. What was Corey doing up in here?”
“Baby, I don’t know what you talking about. I swear,” she cried.
I knew that bitch was standing in front of me lying; she must’ve thought I was a fool.
I walked up to her, grabbed her by the throat and applied pressure.
“Get off my moms,” Josiah’s voice echoed.
I was so caught up in the moment I hadn’t even heard when he entered the house. I looked at him and noticed he had his fist balled up. I then looked back at his mother. It was a no way out situation for me, so I let go and pushed her away from me.
“You want me to call 911 for you?”
“No baby, just go to your room.”
I looked at that bitch lying on the sofa holding her face. I walked up to her and looked her dead in the eyes.
“You fucking dead to me. All the shit I did for you and you had that fuck nigga up in here. Bitch, fuck you.” I spit dead on that bitch.
“Baby, I swear, I don’t know where he was coming from. I swear on my dead mama’s grave. . . .”I walked out before her ass finished her sentence. I hurriedly walked to my car because I wasn’t sure that bitch wouldn’t call the police.
I hit my steering wheel as I backed out of the parking space and raced down the street. There was nowhere for me to go, since I didn’t plan on going to the house.
* * *
I decided to stop at the liquor store at 241st Street and Wakefield Avenue and grab me a bottle of Crown Royal. I needed something strong to drown out this pain I was feeling inside.
My mind traveled back years ago. There had been a rumor going around that Imani and Corey fucked around, but I didn’t pay that shit no mind. I wondered how long they’d been fucking around. That nigga and that bitch were lucky that I left the streets alone. Back in the day, I would’ve murked that nigga for violating me, but now I got too much money and a life ahead of me to fuck up over one piece of pussy. I wasn’t goin’ lie though; that bitch had my mind all the way fucked up.
I paid for a room at the Days Inn on Baychester Avenue. I took the bottle to the head; I was fuming with anger and rage. No other bitch had ever tried me like this and the one bitch that I loved was a fucking whore.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Destiny Clarke
I’ve learned early on not to trust men. After getting raped as a child, I knew men were monsters and they could not be trusted. Finally, I found this one dude that I thought would do right by me, because I stood by him through thick and thin, good or bad. I soaked it up and played my position. I was the one that helped this bum make something of himself and this was how he repaid me. I shook my head. I was disgusted.
I was on my way to see the private investigator. He called last night asking me to meet him at his office this morning. I stayed up all night; my mind was racing. I wanted to know what Hassan had been up to, but at the same time I wasn’t ready to face the music. I rang the doorbell and he buzzed me in.
“Good morning Mrs. Clarke. You look beautiful as usual.”
“Thank you.”
I sat across from him and the anticipation was definitely killing me.
“Okay, I’m not going to keep you waiting, but I must tell you that some of the things I’m about to share with you are deep. Your husband has been a very busy man.”
“Like I told you before, I’m grown. I can handle whatever it is that you found out,” I said in a serious tone.
I sat quietly as he read a list of things he found out. The main thing that grabbed my attention was when he mentioned Hassan had a fourteen-year-old son. The same fucking age as Amaiya. I sat in my seat frozen as the tears started to flow.
“Mrs. Clarke, are you okay? I can stop if you want me to.”
I took a few minutes to get my emotions unde
r control and then I spoke: “No, I’m fine. Please continue, sir.”
He placed a stack of pictures in front of me. I paused. I was scared of what I was about to see. I swallowed hard and reached over to grab the pictures. In front of me was my husband... With his secretary? Yes, the fucking office bitch that I had a bad feeling about. The other pictures were of him and that little bitch he brought to the house. There were pictures of him and random women. All these pictures were taken within a two-week time frame. More tears fell as I sat there staring at the pictures.
“Mr. Spencer, how much do I owe you? And please put all the evidence in one envelope for me; I have to find a divorce lawyer ASAP.”
“Sure, I understand. My fee is thirty-five hundred dollars and I have a colleague who is a great divorce lawyer. Trust me: call him and he’ll take good care of you. Please do me one favor, though.”
“And what is that?” I asked, as I wrote the check.
“Don’t do anything stupid. Let the courts handle it.”
I smiled at him, handed him the check, and grabbed the envelope. “Thank you, Mr. Spencer.” I put my glasses on and walked out of his office.
I sat in my car with my head resting on my steering wheel. I felt like someone had taken something sharp and stabbed into my chest. I screamed out as the pain became unbearable. “Lord, give me the strength. I know I’ve done some things in my life, but God, I didn’t deserve this,” I whispered.
After sitting there feeling sorry for myself, I regained a little bit of courage. I started the car and drove off.
* * *
I didn’t feel like cooking so I ordered pizza and hot wings for Amaiya. I didn’t have an appetite, so I made me a cup of herbal tea and called it a night, even though it was only seven p.m.
Now that I had all the information I needed, it was time for me to do something about it. I would call the lawyer tomorrow. It was time to get this bum ass nigga out of my life, once and for all.
Imani Gibson
I done gotten my ass into some shit I had no idea how to get out of. I didn’t know Hassan would show up so early. He surprised me when he asked about Corey. My ass had to think fast. There was no way I was going to confess to him, hell no. I was taking that shit to my grave.
That nigga crossed the line when he put his hands on me. This was the man that I loved. How could he do me like that? And to disrespect me by spitting in my face? That shit hurt my soul.
After he left, my son ran to me. “Ma, you all right? I don’t know why you even deal with him,” he said to me with an attitude.
“I’m fine and don’t talk like that. He is your father.”
“Father? Ma, all he do is drop off money. He ’ont spend no time with me.”
“Josiah, shut your mouth. He your daddy and he loves you. Don’t you talk like that.”
“Aiight Ma,” he said, before he stormed off to his room.
I got up off the couch and went to the bathroom to wash the spit off my face. I looked in the mirror and that’s when I busted out crying. How he could treat me like this, after all I’ve been through with him? I thought. I slowly knelt down by the tub, crying my heart out. The intensity of the pain ripped through my broken soul.
I cried until the tears stop flowing; I was all cried out. I got up and stumbled to my room, too distraught to take off my clothes, so I just lay across the bed. My mind wandered around. I twisted and turned, too restless to close my eyes. I got up, went to the kitchen, poured me a glass of wine, and drank it in one big gulp, and then I walked back into my room.
“Damn you, Hassan,” I screamed out. I lay there sobbing until I dozed off.
* * *
I was up bright and early the next morning. I was still hurting from the incident last night, but I was in a different frame of mind. I got up and made breakfast for Josiah before he left for school. My apartment looked a hot mess, so I decided to clean up. Ever since I was a little girl, whenever I got upset I would start cleaning. I turned on the stereo, put in Melanie Fiona’s CD, and pressed repeat. “Oh yeah. I’ve got trouble with my friends, trouble in my life. Problems when you don’t come home at night, but when you do you always start a fight.” I sang the song over and over. Something about the words gave me a bit of a boost. I dried my eyes and smiled. “Hassan, you’re going to regret fucking me over,” I uttered to myself.
* * *
I hadn’t been feeling well lately. I thought it was food poisoning until I went to the emergency room. After taking a pregnancy test, the doctor told me I was pregnant.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes ma’am. Congratulations.”
I sat there with my head hung low. Now it made sense; the headaches and the nausea were because I was knocked up.
“Are you okay?” the doctor asked.
“Yes. Just a little surprised is all.” I smiled at her.
Soon as she left the room, I put on my clothes in a rush and left behind her. I didn’t wait to sign my release paper or anything; shit they already had my insurance information.
I was not only surprised, but also devastated. Soon as the bitch mentioned pregnant, my mind rushed back to two weeks ago when I had sex with Corey and he bust inside of me. Not again God, I thought. Things were already bad enough, and now this bullshit. I tried to recall the last time I had sex with Hassan, and I believed it was the day before Corey and I fucked. A broad smile came over my face as a thought popped in my head. “Gotcha,” I said as I drove down White Plains Road.
Soon as I got home, I dialed Hassan’s number. He had it turned off because it kept on going to voicemail and I kept pressing redial. My happiness quickly turned to anger. He barely turned his phone off, so I knew he was on some bullshit. What if something was wrong with me and his child? Since he didn’t pick up, I dialed his bitch’s number. Yes, I had the new number. After Charmaine told me she changed her number, I searched Hassan’s phone and got the new number. Each time she picked up, I just held the phone and breathed hard. The last time she picked up, the bitch got bold. “Listen to me little bitch, whoever you are: stop calling my fucking phone. If you’re looking for Hassan, call his fucking phone,” the bitch yelled in my ear and then hung up.
I was heated as hell because I didn’t get any words in, so I dialed her number again, but she didn’t pick up. I decided to shoot her a text:
Bitch please, just because you’re married to him on paper doesn’t mean you own him. He is mine, believe that.:
Who the hell is this? She texted back.
Your worst fucking nightmare bitch. He don’t love you, he’s only there because you got the money.
Ha-ha, you must be the whore that he’s been fucking. I know who the fuck you are, you that piece of shit, so-called secretary. Listen to me, you earth disturbing bitch, you can never be me; just because he is fucking you, don’t think you’re special. Trust me; his cock is community property. Now leave me the hell alone before I get your ass for harassment.
I was so mad my blood pressure rose. She had no idea that I would trample her ass. I guess I’d have to her show her ass how Bronx bitches got down.
These hoes always screamed that they were the wives, but what they didn’t understand was just because you were married to him on paper, didn’t mean you owned him. Hassan was my man and I swear this bitch would find out soon enough.
* * *
Soon as Josiah got into the bed, I jumped up and got dressed in an all-black velour suit. I tied my hair up with my black scarf and then grabbed the biggest knife in the kitchen and the small hammer that I kept under the sink. I pulled up at their residence and looked around. There was no one outside, so I parked at the side and snuck up the driveway. His car was the first one I tackled, shattering his window and slashing his tires. I then made my move to that bitch’s car. Each time I broke her window, I imagined breaking that ho’s neck. All it took was about five minutes to wreak havoc on the motherfuckers who had caused me pain. After I was finished, I ran down the driveway, jump
ed into my car, and sped off. I laughed my ass off as I drove down the street. I wish I could’ve been present when they realized their shit was fucked up.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Destiny Clarke
After I spoke to the lawyer that Mr. Spencer gave me, I felt much better. I gave him all the evidence that I had on Hassan. The lawyer told me we needed to find out everything about him and his finances, so he suggested hiring a forensic accountant to dig deep into Hassan’s finances. That was great because whatever money he was hiding would be found.
* * *
When I got home from the lawyer’s office, I noticed Hassan’s car was parked in the driveway.
“What are you doing in my house?”
“I live here, you know that right?” he asked.
“I don’t give a damn about that anymore. I want you out,” I yelled.
“Like I said, I’m not going anywhere. You’re my fucking wife, so act like you know it.”
“Ha-ha, you’re a cheater and a liar. I wonder what I saw in you.” I spat.
He stepped aggressively toward me, and I took two steps back.
“You know what, Hassan? That bitch should have killed your ass when she was pregnant with you,” I snapped.
“Watch your mouth, B.” He continued coming closer to me.
I backed into the kitchen and took a quick glance of my surroundings.
“Like I told you, I’m done with you. I want you out of my life for good.”
“Bitch and I told your ass, I ain’t going nowhere. You heard me clearly,” he yelled and lunged toward me.
I backed into the cupboard and grabbed my butcher knife.
“You better back the hell up, before I slice you into pieces.”
“Bitch, fuck you. I don’t care nothing about that.”
“Try me, you bum. Try me!” I pointed the knife at him.
He stood there looking like a savage animal, trying to attack his prey. He must have noticed that I wasn’t backing down so he looked at me and smiled.
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