I started to cry and we both stood there hugging each other tight. I wish I hadn’t put her through this, but it was already happening and all I could do was try to change it.
“Mama, I’m ready.” Amaiya walked in.
I let Mama go and quickly wiped my tears. I hated for Amaiya to see us going through this.
“All right, we’re about to go. Love you. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Bye Nana. Love you.”
I held my daughter’s hand and we walked out of the house and into my car. The entire ride home was completely silent. My mind was still on Imani and not knowing if she’d gone to the police or not.
“Mama, you okay? You keep looking in your rearview mirror.”
“Uh, yeah I’m fine, baby. It’s just a bad habit,” I lied.
She had no idea how nervous her mama really was. The thought of getting cuffed in front of my child really scared me.
Imani Gibson
Everybody I knew had a whole bunch of questions as to where I’d been for the past few days. I couldn’t really tell them the crazy shit that Hassan’s bitch kidnapped me and held me hostage in her basement. This was the kind of thing you’d see on Law and Order or Criminal Minds, on TV shows.
I was happy to be back home with my son. I didn’t care what I was going through in life; I never wanted to be without him. Tears filled my eyes as I rubbed my stomach. Hatred filled my soul as I remembered losing my baby. The funny thing about it was that I still loved Hassan. Even after all that he had done to me.
Most would call me stupid because I took the ten grand from Destiny. But I begged to differ. If that bitch had that kind of loot sitting around, shit, why shouldn’t I take it? After all the stress she done put me through, the bitch owed me. I lay in bed contemplating if I should go to the police and have her arrested. Shit, that would get her out of the picture for good and then maybe Hassan and I could live happily ever after. Right, I thought, but there was the white bitch Tanya; I had to get rid of her ass, too.
“You dog,” I yelled out.
* * *
I woke up in an upbeat mood. I was happy that I was finally back in my own space. I got my ride from the pound and closely inspected it—there were no visible scratches on my baby. I checked my cell phone and noticed I had a million and one messages. There were a ton of messages from Corey, some from Hassan, and from the police department. I didn’t bother to listen to Corey’s messages. Whatever that nigga had to say was of no interest to me. I was done with him; I was caught up in all this shit with Hassan because of him. Next, I listened to Hassan’s messages. Truth be told, they were not the regular mean messages; these ones were kind and warm. He even mentioned that he loved and missed me. I smiled as I listened to his voice through the phone. It was strange though since just the other day he wanted to kill me, but I now that I’d been gone for a few days he suddenly loved and missed me. I almost fell for that shit too, until I remembered that he spat in my face.
* * *
Hassan’s mother left me a message saying that she wanted to see me and Josiah. I knew she must’ve been worried out of her mind. I decided to roll over there to see how they were doing. I pulled up and parked on the side. I rang the doorbell and no one answered. I looked back and saw Charmaine’s car parked on the opposite side so I knew they were home. I rang the doorbell again. This time Ms. Paulette yelled, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, Imani,” I happily said.
The door opened and his mother stood in the doorway with an angry look plastered across her face, but I didn’t think anything about it.“Hey Ms. Paulette.” I stepped past her.
“Who the hell is that Ma?” Charmaine hollered from upstairs.
“Girl, it’s me,” I said, walking toward the step.
Charmaine ran down the stairs and got into my face. “Bitch, I can’t believe you have the nerve to show yo’ face ’round here.”
“Bitch, what you talking ’bout? I just needed a little time to myself, you know?”
“I ’ont care about yo ass disappearing and shit. I’m talking ’bout how you lie that Josiah was my brother’s baby and all along you knew it was that lame-ass nigga Corey’s baby.” She uppercut me.
I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed that bitch’s weave and pulled her down to the ground.
“Get off my child. You won’t come up in here putting your hand on my damn baby,” Ms. Paulette said as she started punching me.
I tried to fight back, but Hassan’s mama was a big bitch and was good at throwing those big ass hands. I continued pulling Charmaine’s hair and tried to throw a few punches at the same time. I was determined not to get beat down so I scratched as hard as I could.
“You stupid bitch, get off of me.” I dug my nails into that bitch’s face. I was wanted to draw blood.
Somehow, we managed to separate. I was out of breath and my head was hurting; one of these stupid bitches had pulled out my freshly glued-in Remy weave. I looked on the ground and saw a patch of my hair on the carpet. I was furious and even though I was tired, I wanted to go another round.
“Get out of my motherfucking house you lying-ass bitch. I fucking defended you all these years and cussed my brother out over you when all along you was fucking playing. Get out!” Charmaine screamed.
I wanted to say, “Nah bitch, put me out,” but instead I straightened my clothes and limped out of the house.
I got into my ride feeling hurt as fuck. These people were like family to me and in a split second they turned against me, attacking me like I was a bitch in the streets. I couldn’t fucking understand it and I was pissed to the max. I wondered who the hell told them Josiah was not Hassan’s child. Only three of us knew about this, and I know damn well I didn’t tell anyone. The only two people left were Corey and Hassan.
* * *
My body was aching from the pressure of that bitch’s humongous body. I looked in my mirror and noticed my lip was busted. I took another look at the house and pulled off. I made a mental note to catch each one of them bitches by themselves.
I ran upstairs and quickly opened the door. I knew I looked a hot mess and didn’t want anyone of these nosy bitches to see me like that.
“Mama, you aiight?” Josiah startled me.
I turned around, “Yes baby, I’m good.”
“W-h-a-t, wrong wit’ you face? Did that nigga hit you again?”
“Boy no, and what I tell you ’bout talking ’bout yo’ daddy like that? Show him some respect.” I was annoyed.
My head was thumping and I was mad as fuck, now wasn’t the time for this.
“Josiah, listen I’m not feeling good and I don’t feel like fighting.”
“Ma, why are you always defending this nigga? I swear if I find out he’s the one that hit you, I put this on my life, I’m going to murk his ass.”
I slapped his face hard.
“Don’t you ever raise your voice at me and stay out of grown folks business. You hear me?”
“Yea, until his ass kill you. I can’t believe you.” He looked at me with pity in his eyes. Without saying another word, he walked away.
I ran into my room and up under my covers. Fuck my life, I thought.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Hassan Clarke
Mama called me to tell me how Imani came over there and jumped on her. I had mixed feelings. I was mad—she put her hands on my Moms—but I was also happy that they found her. I couldn’t get her off my mind and I had feared the worst. I told her I would handle Imani, which was true, but I had questions of my own. I wanted to know where the hell she’d been hiding.
I picked up my cell and dialed her number.
“Hello,” she barely answered.
“Aye yo, what’s good?”
“Ain’t nothing good.”
There was a long pause. I wanted to confront her about the shit that happened between her and Mama, but I knew this might not be the best route to take. It wasn’t like we’d been on good terms and I didn’t want to push
it too soon. In due time, I would make sure she knew it was a no-no. I didn’t play that shit. I didn’t care what the fuck my Moms did, I didn’t want a nigga or a bitch to ever raise their hands to her.
“How you been? I’m happy to know you’re back.”
“I’m good. And you?”
Hmm, her attitude kind of threw me off. I expected her to be upset and cussing me out. I recalled that the last time I saw her was when I beat her up.
“I’m straight, ma. I was wondering if we could have lunch or something.”
“I ’ont know ’bout all that. Let me get back to you.”
“I understand. Well, you got my number. Hit my line and let me know what you decide.”
“Okay, sure will.” She hung the phone up.
I had no idea why I was still trying to see her ass. Truth was the bitch played me in the worst way, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I missed fucking her and I had so many questions that I needed answers to. I just did. She kind of pissed me off; I wanted to see her now, and not whenever she wanted to see me.
* * *
After work, I decided to stop by her apartment. I decided not to call her. I wanted to see why she had to wait to see me. I knocked on her door.
“Who is it?” She yelled.
“It’s me, Hassan.”
She opened the door and stood there, staring me down.
“You not goin’ invite me in?”
“I thought I told you that I would get back to you?” she screwed her face up at me.
“Imani, come on bae. I just need to see you. I miss you, yo.”
I looked back to make sure no one was around. I was a G and I couldn’t risk anyone hearing me beg a female.
“Come on, this is me. I just want to talk,” I pleaded.
“Man, come in, but the minute you start any kind of shit, I’m putting you out.”
I had no idea who she was checking like that. But I was a patient man who knew how to play his cards right. I didn’t say a word. I stepped in and closed the door behind me.
Out of nowhere, Josiah walked from the back. “What this nigga doing here?”
“Watch your mouth, dude. This your mom’s crib and she invited me. You got that, young nigga?”
“Hassan, shut up. Josiah, I just want to talk to him.”
“You the grown up, you ’ont have to explain shit to him.” This nigga was beginning to become a nuisance.
“You invited him here after what he did to you? You dumber than I thought.” He hissed his teeth and walked out the door.
“What’s his problem? You need to get him in check, the little nigga getting out of control.
“Really, Hassan? And you don’t think you had anything to do with it?”
“Babe, listen, you right I have a lot to do with it. I know I fucked up, Imani.”
“Fucked up? You caused me to lose my baby. That’s more than fucking up.”
“I agree and I’m sorry for e’erything that I put you through. I swear, Imani, I snapped after what that nigga Corey said about Josiah being his son. I was crushed, B. Fuck, I’m still hurting. Do you get that?”
I know I can pull this off, I assured myself. I blinked a few times and eventually I got a few teardrops. That was enough to get myself crying. This wasn’t anything new; I learned early on women were suckers for a nigga crying. Let’s see how good I really am.It didn’t take long for her to fall for the foolery. In no time, she was professing her love for me. I really missed fucking her, so I made up by tearing that pussy up right in the middle of the living room. She wasn’t too worried about her son walking in on us and I definitely didn’t give a fuck about him. If you asked me, I would have loved for him to see me burning his mama’s ass up. Maybe then he’d learn to shut the fuck up.
After having sex, I knew I had her where I wanted her. “Sit down, B, lemme rap wit’ you. Yo, how long you and Corey been fucking around?”
“I thought you let that go. What was all that crying and you telling me you love me? Was all that a lie to get some pussy?”
“Imani, chill out. You of all people should know I ain’t hard up for pussy. Now answer my question. In order for us to move on, I need to know the truth. You understand?” I looked her in the eyes.
Before she could respond, her son walked in. The tension was on the rise and I felt like it would only get worse. I decided it was best for me to bounce.
“Yo, B. We will finish this at a different time. I’m out.” I got up, unlocked the door and walked out.
I was furious that I didn’t get the answers that I needed. I pulled out my phone to hit up Big Dre. His phone went directly to voicemail. I was careful not to leave any messages. I let out a long sigh. What’s next? I thought.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Imani Gibson
Hassan had been weighing on my mind heavily. I was angry with him; I didn’t understand why he had to bring our business to his mama and them. My son was the innocent party in all of this chaos and they were the only family he knew. God, Hassan made my ass itch, but I still loved him.
I know I was being a fool, but when he called, my heart skipped a few beats. I played it off, like I didn’t want to see him. To say I was surprised when he knocked on my door was an understatement.
I was happy to see him; there was something about this man that triggered some sort of excitement whenever he got close to me. I wanted to tell him about e’erything that I’d been through. I wanted to lay in his arms and have him tell me everything was gonna be all right. That wasn’t going to happen though. I still felt anger toward him for all the shit he put me through, from burning my pussy to cheating and beating on me, which resulted in me losing my child.
I admit, as strong as my mind was my heart was still weak for him. I felt bad for him when he started to cry; I’d never seen Hassan in a fragile state before. It hurt my heart to see him hurting like that, and if I didn’t know before, I knew now that his love for me was genuine. He started kissing on me and I quickly fell for it. My pussy tongue was thumping and my drawers were getting wet. I wanted him inside of me bad. I knew if I put it on him, I could get him back where I wanted him. So I did just that: I sucked his dick and threw this pussy back on him. I kept looking at the door because I was scared that Josiah might bust in. The last thing I needed was for my son to see me getting fucked. Lord, let him hurry up, I thought as I threw my pussy on him.
I thought after we had sex the drama would end, but the nigga surprised me and started to ask me a million and one questions. Fuck, I was not trying to go there with him, I already got my ass whooped by this shit and I’d be damned if I was going to take another beating for the same shit.
I was happy when Josiah bust in the door. That angered Hassan a little and he stormed out the door. Even though I didn’t want him to leave, I welcomed him leaving then because I didn’t want my answers to trigger him in any way. God knew I was tired of being a damn punching bag. A bitch like me deserved better. I jumped in the shower and while I washed up my mind ran to Destiny. As much as I hated that bitch for the shit she did to me and for coming between Hassan and me, I think she was my only chance to get some good money so I could get me and my son out of all this bullshit.
Earlier when Hassan was fucking me, I was so close to confessing everything to him. I wanted to let him know that his precious wife had some shit up her sleeve, but something inside convinced me not to do that. The thing was, Hassan knew Josiah was not his seed, so that meaned my money was cut off and I was dead-ass broke. So my decision was pretty simple.
After I got out the shower, I picked up the phone and dialed her number.
“Hello,” she answered.
“I know who it is. I take it you called me with good news?”
I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath. I hated the sound of this bitch’s voice, but a boss bitch will do what she has to do until she can do better.
“Yeah, well, you ’ont leave me with much of a choice,” I replied sarcastically.
>
“We need to meet tomorrow and we can discuss what I need from you. We can meet over at Cross County. There’re a few restaurants over there. We can have lunch. Please be careful. Not sure if you’re still talking to Hassan, but he’s smarter than you think. Twelve p.m. is good for me. Call me when you’re leaving out.”
“Nah, I ain’t talk to him and I’ll be there.” I hung up.
This ho thought she was slick with her comment about Hassan. That was a low-key way of trying to find out if Hassan and I have been talking. Her ass should’ve known I wasn’t a fool; I would never let her know what I was doing with my man.
* * *
Destiny Clarke
I thought about what Mama said about getting a gun. I wasn’t a killer and I didn’t want to be one, but I was at a point where I didn’t trust Hassan and things were getting sticky between us.
I googled gun stores and a few popped up. I picked the one closest to the house. I got up and got dressed in a pair of Levi’s jeans and a nice blouse. The weather was changing; spring was definitely in the air. I could finally show off my little petite shape. After I got dressed, I put on a pair of Michael Kors sandals and grabbed my purse and walked out into the fresh air. I didn’t know what it was, but I was feeling myself, both physically and mentally.
I parked in the space that was available and walked into the store. I was kind of nervous because I didn’t like guns, but then again, I didn’t like a lot of things, but I had to live with them.
“Good morning. Welcome to Olinville Arms, how may I help you?” A voice startled me.
I stopped dead in my tracks and turned back toward the door. I didn’t belong here. I should leave, I thought.
“Were you interested in looking at our firearms?”
“Good morning.” I turned around to face the tall, stalky Indian man. “Uh, oh yes, please.” I nervously said.
“Do you have an idea of what you want? We carry all different makes and models.”
“No, I just need something small.”
I walked over to the counter. There were a bunch of cute little guns in the display counter.
My Husband's Mistress Page 17