Can I Talk to You (G Street Chronicles Presents)

by Nicole Jackson

  “So, what you’re saying is that you looking for a nigga with the perfect balance. You want him to have some street in him, but get his money legitimately?”

  “Exactly,” she laughed.

  “I feel you. Well, I don’t know if I’m the right man for the job, but it wouldn’t hurt you to find out.”

  “Okay. Well, I think that I’m ready to exchange pictures now.”

  “Cool…cool,” I said. After a few more words, we hung up and I sent her a modest picture of myself where I was rocking Ralph Lauren Polo from head to toe. I think that the clothes gave off a harmless appearance.

  About a minute later, her picture came in. I was impressed. She was light skinned with long sandy brown hair. She had a shapely frame and looked to weigh about one sixty or one seventy at the most. A majority of her weight was in her ass. I could definitely handle that. So after looking at her picture and finding it to my liking, I hit her back. She liked my picture, as to be expected, and we continued on with our conversation. Before we hung up for the night, we had a date set up for the following night.

  * * * * *

  My date with Karen went well. We met up at Pappadeaux’s and she looked even better in person than she did in her photo. She gave good conversation and had a nice smile. It was refreshing to chill with a chick that wasn’t focused on my status in the hood. She seemed really interested in Trent, the man, and I was digging the hell out of that.

  Before either of us knew it, midnight had come and gone and we were still out enjoying each other’s company. We went to a pool hall and played a few rounds of pool while quite a few niggas had gathered around checking out her backside. It had been a while since I’d been out with a quality chick like her.

  When it was finally time to call it a night, I followed her home in hopes of her inviting me in. There was no such luck. I ended up calling the chat line and hooking up with a nineteen-year-old freak that lived way out in the Woodlands. Her family had a little money and she was spoiled rotten. She had a nice condo that she stayed in all by herself.

  I don’t know what they’re putting in the water these days, but these young girls are getting turned out younger and younger. That girl was barely legal and was doing shit in the bedroom that not even the broads my age had gotten hip to. Not to mention, she could suck a mean dick. Needless to say, I went home with a huge smile on my face.

  Chapter 8

  Keirah

  “Baby, what do you think about these shoes?” Chantez asked me.

  “They’re cute,” I nodded as he checked out some limited edition Air Force Ones.

  We’d been out shopping for a better part of the day. Personally, I was more than ready to go home. I’d taken a Xanax and it was wearing me down. I was trying to suck it up because Slim was in a good mood and I didn’t want to do anything to change that. He could switch up on me in a hot second. The drama with him had been affecting me physically as I realized that I had to purchase all my new clothes in sizes ten and twelve. Recently, I’d discovered the reason for his constant mood swings and paranoia. He was using cocaine. I don’t know how long he’d had the habit, but it was now more apparent than ever. For a while, he kept it hidden from me; but after he whipped a pack out and did a few lines while I was on two Xanax pills, he began to feel more comfortable with his secret. After that, he didn’t give a damn if I was sitting on his dick when he took a hit. He claimed that he didn’t have a problem, but I wasn’t seeing it that way. He couldn’t even go a day without getting high.

  While Slim checked out some shoes, I walked over to the ladies section and took a look at some cute Nikes.

  “Yeah, those fit you,” a voice said from behind me.

  I turned to find a fine specimen of a man standing before me. I openly stared at him. He looked familiar, but I just couldn’t put my finger on where I’d seen him before.

  “How do you know what fits me?” I twisted my neck.

  He hunched his shoulders. “You just seem like the type to rock those kinds of shoes. I mean…look at the colors: purple, pink, and red. That fits you,” he offered, as he picked up the shoe that I’d been admiring.

  “Whatever,” I laughed. If I didn’t know any better, I would have thought that his fine ass was flirting with me. But I just knew better. I mean, I knew that I was looking cute that day…but still. My beautician had just dyed my hair blonde and put some huge Farah Faucet flips in it. My dark denim jeans were tight, accentuating my hips, but my gray t-shirt gave off the plain Jane look. So I knew there wasn’t anything extraordinary about my appearance that day to capture such a beautiful creature’s attention.

  “Why it gotta be whatever?” he asked, giving me a perfect smile.

  “I don’t know,” I shrugged as I clumsily dropped the fitted cap that I’d been holding for Slim. “Oops,” I sighed, as I attempted to kneel to get the cap at the very same time the familiar stranger did. We bumped heads.

  “My bad,” he laughed as he held his head with one hand and handed me the cap with the other.

  “That’s okay,” I snickered, as I patted my hair, making sure that it wasn’t out of place.

  “So, can I…” he began, before he was interrupted.

  “Keirah!” Chantez barked from behind me. The sound of his voice sent a chill down my spine. I could tell that he was pissed about something.

  “Huh?” I asked as I turned toward him.

  “Come here,” he commanded, as he motioned his head signaling me to walk over to him.

  I glanced back at the familiar stranger to find that he was still standing there staring at me. I then I walked over to Slim. “Huh?” I asked nervously.

  “You know that nigga or something?” he mean mugged the handsome dude.

  “No, he was just asking me about the shoes over there.”

  Chantez glared down at me. “You ain’t wearing black and white so why the fuck would he ask you about the shoes?”

  “I don’t know, Chantez,” I shrugged, hopping that he’d drop it.

  “So, why the fuck were you talking to him for so long?” he snapped.

  “I wasn’t talking for that long,” I shook my head.

  “So you calling me a liar?” he asked as he inched closer.

  “No,” I panicked. I was praying that he wasn’t about to embarrass me in a store full of people.

  “The fuck is wrong with you? You flirting with niggas right in my face?” he growled.

  “Slim, you tripping. Let’s just go,” I begged, peering around to see if anyone was looking at us. It seemed that everybody was minding their own business.

  “I’m about to pay for these shoes,” He responded, as he headed to the registers with three boxes of tennis shoes. I stood right next to him to avoid any more confusion. He pulled out a knot to pay for the two pair of Forces and the one pair of Jordans. “You want those purple, pink, and red Nikes?” he asked me sarcastically.

  I couldn’t believe that he’d somehow heard us talking. He had to have some supersonic ears. I knew that I was in for it once we made it home. “No, I don’t want anything,” I said.

  I watched as he paid for his shoes and fitted cap and then let the cashier bag everything up. At that very moment, I looked at that funny looking cashier and wished like hell that I was her. Anything was better than being me at the moment. I felt like a little kid with bad grades on report card day.

  The ride home didn’t seem long enough. It seemed like I blinked my eyes and we were home. I sat on the passenger’s side of his ‘05 Buick LaSabre ready to jump out. No matter how many ass whippings he issued out, it was something that I could never get used to. He was silent the whole ride home which meant that he was pissed.

  When we were getting out of the car, I tried to take my time. I wanted him to walk ahead of me. I walked behind him for a brief second before he spun around.

  “What the fuck are you doing walking behind me?” he snapped.

  “I…I…I was just walking. I wasn’t paying attention to who was w
alking in front of who,” I stuttered nervously.

  “Go head, man,” he dictated, as he nodded for me to walk ahead of him.

  I could feel the heat behind me as I walked up the stairs. I walked across the walkway to my apartment, contemplating just bolting the entire time. I attempted to stall, pretending to look for my keys. He simply pulled his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door.

  He stomped inside first and held the door open for me. After I walked in, he closed the door behind me and locked it. Things seemed to move in slow motion. I felt like he was locking me inside of some kind of prison. I hated even looking at our apartment because that was the place where he took out life’s frustrations on me.

  The moment the door was locked, he reached back and slapped me with what seemed like all his might. After that slap came a punch. That was the first time he ever used his fist to hit me. He knocked me off of my feet. I’d never felt fear like that as I crawled backwards away from him.

  “Bitch, you gon learn one way or another! How many times have I told you? You don’t have no business talking to some bitch ass nigga. You can’t talk to no nigga other than this nigga right here!” he roared as he pounded his chest. “I don’t give a damn if it’s my motherfuckin brother!” he yelled down at me as he grabbed me by my hair.

  “Please stop, Chantez! I’m sorry,” I pleaded with him as the tears made it impossible for me to see.

  “You sorry, huh?” he asked as he backhanded me once again. “Bitch, you ain’t sorry cause you keep doing the same shit!” he lashed.

  “Somebody help me!” I screamed as I kicked, trying to get him to release me.

  “Shut up,” he gritted as he punched me in the face. He was hitting me so hard that my brain started to hurt.

  “Chantez, stop!” I sobbed.

  Finally, after what seemed like hours, he stopped hitting me. He then told me to go to the bathroom and clean myself up. I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. There was no way that I could just clean up the damage that he’d done to me. One of my eyes was swollen shut and both my top and bottom lips were busted. I looked just like Tina after Ike beat her ass in that limousine. I never thought that I’d be is this place again. This wasn’t even Ken all over again because he was never that brutal. Chantez did shit without a conscience. I had to get away from him.

  Chantez had gotten so used to the routine of whipping my ass that he had a certain way of handling things. He would always take my cell phone right before we’d fight. He’d keep any means of communication with him until he felt that I was cooled off enough that I wouldn’t call the police. So I didn’t have a phone near me. I looked at my bedroom window. I was on the second floor and the ground was a long ways down. After weighing my options, I decided that I had no choice but to go out of the window because when Slim got in zones like this, he’d kick my ass all day long. I just knew that what I was having at the time was a small intermission before another session was to begin. So I opened the window and climbed up on the window seal. After that, I slowly pushed my lower body out the window. Once my entire body was hanging on the ledge of the window I let go.

  Through the grace of God, I landed in the grass on my feet before I fell. I didn’t damage anything and quickly hopped on my feet and ran for my life. I didn’t know how long it would be before he’d realized that I’d left, so I was trying to get as far away from my apartment as quickly as possible.

  I stopped at the first payphone that I came across. I dialed 911 and told them that I needed them there quick, fast, and in a hurry. I never thought that I’d be one to ever call the police on my man, but I was left with no choice. I had a few family members that would have been willing to kick Chantez’s ass, but that wouldn’t have helped things at that point. My family couldn’t protect me once everything was over and they went home and I was at the crib all alone. Something more drastic needed to be done.

  About ten minutes after I called the police they arrived on the scene. I took them back to my apartment and Slim was still there. He opened the door for the police and tried to play dumb when they told him that he was under arrest.

  “What’s going on officers?” he asked with a confused look on his face as they placed the handcuffs on his wrists. “What you told these people, man?” he turned and asked me.

  “You know what you did,” I hissed, as they carted his ass off to the patrol car. I watched as they shoved him in the backseat. He never took his eyes off of me and he gave me a look that could kill as he took a seat and they closed the car’s door on him. I silently prayed that it would be the last time that I’d ever have to see his face.

  * * * * *

  Chantez called me collect every day, all day; only for me to refuse the calls. I knew exactly what he wanted. He wanted me to drop those charges; which wasn’t going to happen even if I tried. There was too much physical evidence for me to convince anybody that no abuse had taken place. I also know that he was probably calling wanting me to bond him out. Right before he was arrested, he’d stashed some cash and drugs at the top of my closet. There were a couple of ounces of cocaine there and about $10,000 in cash. His bond wasn’t but twenty thousand, which meant that he didn’t have to pay but $2,000 to get out. I knew that outside of my spot, he had no money on the streets. But if it meant me having to be the one helping him get released, then his ass was stuck. For a brief second I thought about calling his mama and telling her to come and get his money, but then I quickly came to my senses. That money was now mine. I hadn’t decided what I was going to do with the coke, but I knew that that was as good as money as well.

  There was no part of me that missed Chantez because I’d been looking for an exit out of the relationship for a while. I was keeping my fingers crossed every day that I wouldn’t get the call that he’d been bonded out. I finally was able to get some peace when the DA called to tell me that he signed for six months state jail time. I was ecstatic.

  I was able to get my mind together and become more focused. I applied myself even more at work and received a promotion which gave me an extra $2 an hour. The $11 an hour may not have seemed like much, but it was a far cry from minimum wage which was $5.45 cents an hour. Shit, I was making more than my mama and it felt good. My rent wasn’t but $400 a month and had been paid in advance for the duration of the lease, and the complex was all bills paid. That meant that the only bill I paid was the rent with no lights or gas bills. So, every penny I made was mine to keep or splurge with. That was a beautiful feeling.

  After getting back adjusted to being single and shopping until I dropped, I started feeling like something was missing. I hadn’t had a good lay in over a month. I hadn’t been going out and had lost all contact with any male friends because of Chantez. So, I decided to call the chat line. It had been so long since I’d called that I had to set up an ad all over again. Just minutes after my ad was placed on the line, I started receiving tons of messages. After writing down about ten numbers, I decided to hang up. There was no way I’d be able to call back every guy that left their number.

  The first three dudes I called had dry conversation so I ended the calls quickly. The fourth guy caught my attention. He had a good sense of humor. I felt so relaxed after talking to Ted that I did something that I’d never done before; I invited him over. We’d already exchanged pictures, so we both knew how the other looked. He was light brown and could pass for a dead ringer for the rapper Warren G in his younger years. He was a cute man and had a nice little vibe about him.

  Ted arrived at my apartment at about 7:00 that evening. He walked into my apartment and looked around as I checked him out. He was dressed simply in a white-t, gray denim jeans, and some crisp white Forces. His tapered was freshly lined up and his cologne was intoxicating.

  “Hey, pretty girl,” he smiled as he took me into his arms and gave me a warm hug. Usually, I hated when men tried to hug me because I felt like they were just trying to feel my breasts next to them. But with him I didn’t mind.

&nbs
p; “Hey,” I smiled as he held on to me. The hug was lasting forever.

  Finally, he released me and I told him that he could take a seat on my couch. He did while he never stopped staring at me. I was wearing my hair in a ponytail and had on some shorts and a t-shirt. He told me that I didn’t have to get all dressed up for him and that I could stay comfortable. He kind of wanted to see my at my worse because he claimed that if my worse looked good, then he could just imagine what my best looked like.

  “I put in a movie,” I offered, as I started the DVD player.

  “Keirah, can you come sit down with me?” he asked as I stood by my television staring at the screen, as if I was trying to study it. I was trying to get my nerves together. I knew that I had taken a major risk by inviting a stranger into my house. I was praying that I wouldn’t regret my decision.

  “I guess,” I shrugged as I walked over and took a seat on the couch with him.

  “Why are you sitting so far away?” he asked.

  “Is this better?” I scooted closer to him. Our thighs were now touching.

  “Much better,” he sighed as he wrapped his arms around me.

  We sat and watched “Belly” for a few seconds before he whispered in my ear. “You know that you’ve seen this movie a million times and so have I. I would much rather watch you instead of this TV.”

  “Watch me? Do what?” I lifted a brow.

  “Take every inch of this dick inside of you,” he whispered.

  I know that I should have been offended, but his comment made my panties wet. Like I said…it had been a minute since I’d been laid and my hormones were raging.