by T. N. Baker
“Thank you,” Tucker said sarcastically.
Meanwhile, just when Tucker asked Keisha for the keys, Epiphany felt her ears had heard enough. She eased down the stairs, grabbed her bags, and decided it would be best if she sat outside in her car and waited for Keisha. She didn’t wanna be the next one to get slapped.
CHAPTER 27
C-God was slowly fading away, getting high whenever he could. Money was starting to get tight. Marisa lost her job at the grocery store and made her bills become his problem. C-God wasn’t supplying her with any more coke, so she jumped on the band wagon and started sucking on the glass pipe with him. In Marisa’s mind, it was only for a little while, just until she lost some weight, but if only she knew, dropping the weight would be the easy part. The addiction had a hell of a price to pay, and her children were the first to suffer. Why? Because getting high became more important to her than their needs. Most of the time she stayed locked up in her bedroom for hours with C-God, smoking crack while the kids’ knocks for food, help with the homework, or just some quality time went ignored. Her children hated C-God and blamed him for their mother’s neglect.
Reggie still communicated with C-God from time to time, to see how he was doing. Although he chose to roll with Ness for money purposes, he still had love for the nigga C. C-God understood that it wasn’t about him. He knew Reggie had a lot on his plate, trying to take care of his grandmother, who he loved dearly, and hustling daily through rain, sleet, and snow to get up the dough to take care of her bills and pay the live-in nurse.
Reg kept C-God informed about what was going on and the moves niggas was making in the hood. He was the eyes and ears on the street that C-God no longer had. His information was priceless.
C-God was surprised when Reg called and told him how his baby moms Latrice went out.
“Yo, son, they played Latrice,” said Reggie.
“Who?”
“That nigga Ness, man. Out in front of the projects the other day, he had her sucking on a dog’s dick for that crack. Shit, in front of everybody, too, just ’cause she was short a dollar. Yo, C, I tried to stop her, but she wanted them drugs bad.”
C-God was quiet. He flashed back to how fly Latrice used to be and that smart mouth of hers. All the ballers had tried to get at her back in the day, but she chose C-God when he ain’t have a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of, and he loved her for that; that was, until he started getting money and the gold diggers took notice. His excuse for moving on to the next chick was Latrice’s jealousy and crazed antics after giving birth to their first child.
Reminiscing made C-God think about all his baby mommas. To let him tell it, all of them were some bugged-out bitches. Latrice and Sherri had lost custody of his kids, Lori and Jasmine, because of their crack addictions. Andrea married some Wall Street cat, who adopted C-God’s seven-year-old daughter, Atria, and moved them out to the Hamptons. Kim had a good paying city job, but was always trying to hit him up for money for their son, Corey, who was seven also.
Then Yolonda’s weed-smoking, welfare-collecting ass did nothing but get her fuck on with different niggas and threatened C with child support orders every chance she got. Sad to say, out of all of them, she was the one that had C-God open. He had made her his wifey before finding out how whorish she really was, and to this day, he still questioned if he was the father of her daughters, Kameechie and Yaya.
Last, but not least, there was Tanya. She was a good girl, smart and educated. C-God never had no problems with her. She was still young, so she did what she was told, and she had a strong, supportive family. They all took good care of his son.
“Yo, C, you there?” Reggie wasn’t certain C was still on the phone. He had been silent for a minute.
“Yeah, I’m here. Anyway, fuck Latrice. Tanya’s the only one out all them bitches that I give a fuck about. That’s why I need you to check up on her from time to time and make sure she’s good, a’ight? Do that for me until I get on my feet.”
“Not a problem,” Reggie said.
“Oh, and one more thing: Any word on Epiphany, you know the chick I was fucking with?” C-God asked.
“Yeah, I know who you talking about. I hear she a’ight. As a matter of fact, her pops came through the projects a couple of times looking for you.”
“Word? I know what that’s about, but it wasn’t me. I’m glad she a’ight, though. Anyway, thanks. Good looking out, fam.”
“It’s nothing. I’ma holla at you later, a’ight?” said Reg.
“A’ight, man.”
CHAPTER 28
Shana was so upset after Epiphany and Keisha called to tell her about K.C.’s behavior at the club the other night. Keisha had the proof, but didn’t have access to a computer in order to print it out.
“What’s wrong with your computer, Keish?” Shana questioned.
“Nothing. I’m staying with Epiphany for a while,” answered Keisha.
“Shana, you can use my computer as soon as my pops gets my stuff out of storage.” Epiphany offered.
“And when is that?”
“Probably next week, once he’s done fixing up the basement for me and Keisha,” Epiphany answered.
“Shit, I can’t wait that long.”
“So, what you gonna do, huh? Tell him we told you?” asked Epiphany.
“I don’t know what I’m gonna do, but I know I ain’t gon’ be able to hold this shit in for a week,” replied Shana.
“See, that’s some bullshit. We look out for you and you gonna tell the nigga. If it was meant to go down like that, I wouldn’t have paid the cameraman fifty dollars,” Epiphany complained.
“Yo, I’ll give you your fifty dollars back. That’s not a problem,” Shana said.
“You’re right. The money ain’t the problem. It’s your fucking mouth,” said Epiphany.
“Fuck you, Epiphany. Don’t tell me shit next time,” yelled Shana.
“Fuck you, too. I won’t. Believe that.”
“Come on, you guys. This ain’t necessary—and Shana, Epiphany is right this time. It ain’t cool for you to rat us out like that and have your man hating on us,” Keisha explained.
“So what am I supposed to do, go out and buy a computer just so I can confront his ass?” Shana said sarcastically.
“No, we can go to Kinko’s and use their Internet access,” Keisha suggested.
“That’ll work, but why didn’t you suggest that in the first place?” Shana asked.
“Because I just thought about it while you and Epiphany were going at it. Now, can you two apologize, please?” said Keisha.
“I’m sorry, E,” Shana said nonchalantly.
“Whatever. Just get me my fifty bucks,” said Epiphany, still wanting to hold a grudge.
“Yo, Keish, you see what I mean? Fuck that bi—”
Before she could finish, Keisha took the phone off speaker and picked up the receiver, while Shana continued to express how she felt about Epiphany.
“Shana, just come and get me, all right? I don’t have my car,” said Keisha, changing the subject and calming Shana down.
“A’ight, I’m on my way,” said Shana.
When Shana arrived, she called Keisha on her cell to let her know she was out front.
“Hey, E, I’ll be back. Shana’s out front,” Keisha said.
“Yeah, a’ight. Get my money from that bitch, please,” Epiphany replied.
“Uh-huh.” Keisha walked out, shaking her head, not able to understand why the two of them just couldn’t get along.
Once Keisha left, Epiphany went outside and sat on the stoop of her parents’ house, which was something she hadn’t done since she was a kid. It had to be about ninety degrees out. The sun was blazing. As she watched the kids on the corner running in and out of the fire hydrant, laughing, playing, and having a good time while trying to stay cool, she remembered some things. This time, it was clear.
She could recall taking a home pregnancy test and it being positive, the pain she fel
t from all his kicks and punches, but most importantly she could remember his face.
“It was C-God,” she mumbled as her memory confirmed the beliefs of her father and Keisha.
Epiphany felt awful. It just didn’t make sense to her at all, and there was still a lot of information missing.
Why did he try to kill me? she thought. Was it because I found out I was pregnant? Or maybe it was Mali’s baby. No, Keisha said I stopped seeing Malikai months ago. So maybe I wasn’t really—
The ring of her cell phone broke her heavy train of thought. It was someone calling from a 323 area code.
Where the fuck is 323?
“Hello?” Epiphany answered.
“What up, beautiful?” said the man’s voice.
“You got the beautiful part right, but who is this?” she responded.
“Damn, ma, you forgot about me already, huh? It’s Wild. How you doing?”
“Oh, hey, I’m good. I thought you forgot about me.”
“Nah, never that. I just been tied up out here in L.A., trying to blaze some tracks, that’s all.”
“Oh, so when you coming back to NY?”
“I’m flying in tonight, late night, but I was hoping we could get together sometime tomorrow.”
“Well, call me tomorrow and I’ll let you know.” Epiphany didn’t want to seem as anxious as she really was.
“Oh, you’ll let me know, huh? Why you can’t just say yeah now?”
“Because I’m gonna be kind of busy tomorrow. I don’t wanna commit to anything now and then have to disappoint you later. You know what I’m saying? It’s called having consideration,” Epiphany said with sarcasm.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, early, so we could spend all day and night together. A’ight, shorty?” Wild disregarded her weak excuse.
His confidence turned her on and brought a smile to her face. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye”
Wild’s call had completely taken her mind off of her revelations—well, maybe not completely, but Epiphany was starting to feel like the more she remembered about her past and its horrid details, the less she wanted to remember.
Maybe it’s best to just put it all behind me. Besides, no one has seen or heard from C-God anyway.
CHAPTER 29
Once Shana dropped Keisha back off at Epiphany’s parents’ house, she went home and waited impatiently for K.C. to get his ass home. She sat on the couch, staring at the glossy Kodak print of him all over some high yellow bitch who looked like she might have been cute if she didn’t suffer from a severe case of acne. She was ticked off, but the funny thing about the whole situation was that she already had a gut feeling that he was fucking around on her. If that wasn’t enough evidence, her suffering from dick deprivation should have been another clue. It seemed like the only time he wanted to fuck her was when she wanted to argue about his bullshit behavior. Shana wasn’t happy. K.C. was obviously doing him, the bitch in the photo, and whoever else he was out there screwing, but it certainly wasn’t her.
I can’t believe I’m still paying that muthafucka Smitty. For what? To keep a dumb little secret from a nigga that don’t even want to be kept.
Just as that thought ran through Shana’s mind, she heard K.C.’s keys rattling at the door. Quickly, she laid the photo down right in front of her on the coffee table, just to see how long it would take him to notice it.
When he walked in, he wasn’t alone. Smitty trailed in right behind him. Instantly, her attitude got worse. Sucking her teeth, she snatched up the picture, not wanting Smitty all up in their business, although he most likely knew way more dirt than she could ever imagine.
“What up, Sha?” K.C. said as he placed his car keys and cell phone down on the coffee table, right in the same spot as the photo.
“I need to talk to you, but I see you got your shadow with you,” Shana said, giving K.C. the head movement and eye-rolling treatment.
“Well, hello to you to, Sha,” Smitty said to further aggravate her.
Shana just rolled her eyes again and waited for K.C.’s response.
“Yeah, so can’t it wait?” K.C. asked.
“No, it can’t fucking wait. I’m tired of being put on hold for this muthafucka,” she said, pointing at Smitty. “So either you excuse him, or I’ll say what the fuck I gotta say right in front of him.”
“Yo, Smitty, you see what the fuck I gotta deal with all the time? Yo, I’m telling you, a nigga be trying to keep from fucking a bitch up,” K.C. said, feeling like Shana was trying to punk him in front of his boy. His nose began to flare, and he balled his fist tightly, trying to compose his anger.
“Yeah, nigga, I feel you, but yo, I’m out. You need to get that shit under wraps, dawg, ’cause word up, she stay with an attitude.” Smitty added his two cents as usual.
“I’ma handle this, but just hit me later,” K.C. said.
“Who the fuck is this bitch, huh?” Shana raised her voice as soon as he shut the door behind Smitty. Waving the photo in K.C.’s face, she demanded an answer. “Yeah, muthafucka you busted.”
K.C. looked closely at the picture and laughed. “Where you get that from? I don’t know who she is, and that ain’t me.”
“You’se a lying ass. So, that’s how you gon’ go out, huh? You can’t even be a man and admit the shit you do. Who is she, K.C.?”
“Yo, I’m out, man, because you be bugging the fuck out, and I’m telling you, you gon’ make me fuck you up.” K.C. reached for his car keys on the table.
Shana made a quick dash for the keys, along with his cell phone, and hauled ass to the bedroom, locking the door behind her.
“Now, muthafucka, you wanna play games? Let’s play games. You ain’t going no-fucking-where. I got your phone and your key, so if you want your shit back, you better start confessing, nigga,” Shana yelled from the other side of the door while trying to catch her breath from that Olympic sprint she’d just made.
“Bitch, don’t fuck with me. Open the door and give me my shit,” K.C. shouted as he tried to kick down the door. “Yo, wait ’til I open this door, Shana. I’ma—” K.C. had to catch his breath. “Yo, I think you be wanting a nigga to fuck you up. You like that shit, huh? Open this fucking door!”
Shana ignored his threats and continued to question the girl’s identity, while he stood on the other side of the bedroom door, trying to figure out a way to pick the lock or bust through it. Inside, she prayed hard that the door would not give way.
“Let me see . . . Kiana. Who the fuck is Kiana? Latrell, Meeka, Valerie . . .” Shana called out each female’s name as she scrolled down and deleted them out of his phone, one by one. “Just tell me who this chick in the picture is. I see you’ve been real busy lately, but where was all these hoes at when your ass was locked up, huh? I can’t do this shit no more, K.C.!” Shana screamed.
“Ahhh, come on, Sha.” K.C. showed a little compassion for her feelings. “Listen, Sha, them bitches don’t mean shit to me, a’ight. I’ll admit, occasionally I might fuck around on you, but that shit don’t mean that I don’t love you. You just need to understand that I was married to this drug game shit, the streets, and everything in it, long before you, and on the real, those are the only things I know how to be committed to. The streets ain’t never going nowhere, and ’cause of that, a nigga like me gon’ always get paper.”
“K.C., what does all of that have to do with you fucking around on me?”
“Sha, didn’t I just say I don’t give a fuck about those bitches? They just hoes that come along with the game. I made you my wife, but you need to accept me for the nigga I am and the fucked-up shit I do, because at the end of the day, I’m coming home to you. Yeah, I fucked up the other night, but I was out all night handling business. Sha, you held me down when I was fucked up, so I ain’t gon’ never play you. Now open the door.”
“K.C., I’m not gonna open the door until you tell me who this girl is.”
“Yo, are you hearing what I said to you? She ain’t nobody, Sh
a, so stop dwelling on that ho and open the door. Come on, yo, I ain’t gonna do nothing to you. I just wanna chill with you, a’ight? Open the door.”
Shana unlocked the door and slowly backed away from it, just in case he came in swinging. Fortunately for Shana, K.C. had already gotten over being mad thirty minutes ago. Besides, the number one rule in the players manual is to always treat the one you love better than the hoes you fuck. He knew that in order to keep the peace, he had to take care of home first, and he hadn’t been holding down that part. So, for the rest of the evening, he did some serious making up, in hopes that Shana would get off his back for a while.
CHAPTER 30
“Yo, how I get to you?” Wild said as soon a Epiphany picked up her cell phone.
“Well, hello to you, too,” Epiphany said as she glanced over at the clock, which read 9:00 a.m.
“Oh, my bad. Hello, pretty. Now how do I get to you once I hit Queens?”
Epiphany smiled, liking his persistence, and gave him directions.
“A’ight, I should be there in like forty-five minutes, and bring a few things, just in case I decide to kidnap you for a couple of days.”
“Okay, I’ll see you when you get here.” After ending the call, Epiphany excitedly jumped out of bed to search through her many clothes for the right outfits to pack. She decided to wear her hot pink Roberto Cavalli sundress, along with her Prada sandals and matching purse. She packed three other cute outfits that showed expensive taste, class, and style, because by no means did she want him to think she was anything less than fabulous.
Keisha was awakened by the noise Epiphany made as she rushed to get herself together.
“Girl, where you going?” she asked.
“Oh, remember the guy that I was chillin’ with at Suede, the producer I told you about?”
“Yeah,” Keisha said.