“Meka, come on,” I snapped, as I stuck my head out of the window.
“Okay,” she huffed, and then hugged that nigga. She then came and got into the car with a big smile. “Bitch, you in trouble?” she asked as I backed out.
“No, but you gon be if you don’t stop fucking with that AIDS packing nigga.”
* * * * *
Killah
“Baby, can you pull over? I feel sick,” Keirah uttered as she sat on the passenger side of my Lac. It was a nice clear Sunday and I pulled out the slab to cruise the streets. We had rolled through a few block parties two-deep, and now she was threatening to throw up all over my wood grain and buck.
“You alright?” I asked her as I pulled into a Mobil on MLK.
“Nooo. Pu-acth,” she got out as she pushed the door open and threw up all over the pavement. She was throwing up damn near every day now. I was beginning to suspect that it was more to her sudden sicknesses.
“Ewe, I hate this shit,” she complained as she opened my glove compartment and grabbed some napkins. She looked in the mirror as she wiped her mouth. I just sat and stared. Finally she realized that I was staring. “What?” she turned and asked.
“Are you pregnant?” I came right out and asked. I didn’t have time to beat around the bush, especially given her history. She could be plotting to get rid of it if it was a baby.
“What?” she frowned as if that was dumbest question on earth.
“You heard me. Are you pregnant?”
“No,” she said too quickly.
“How do you know? You took a test?”
“No. I just know,” she rolled her eyes. “I ain’t thinking about no damn baby,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing,” she waved me off.
I had to just look at her. She was so damn difficult at times that I just wanted to strangle her ass, but she was my Boo. Even if she was fucked up.
I threw my car in gear so that I could head back out the lot. “Uh, do you mind going into the gas station and grabbing me some crackers. It’ll help me with my nausea,” she whined.
I cut my eyes at her. “Naw, you can go get it yourself.”
She rolled her eyes as I pulled directly in front of the store. “Whatever,” she spat as she hopped out. I was regretting letting her get out the car as I watched her ass in those short shorts she was wearing. Every nigga standing around turned their heads and few even followed her in the store with their mouths wide open. I had asked her not to wear that shit, but it was kind of hot, so I let her make it. I wasn’t tripping because we were together, but this was her first time getting out of the car.
One minute passed by and it seemed like hours. I wasn’t particularly jealous, but when it came to Keirah, I could lose my mind. You see…that there was mine, and every nigga around needed to know that. So, I killed the engine of my car and jumped out. I walked into the store to find some tall nigga towering over my woman. Without a moment’s hesitation, I walked over to them.
“What the fuck is taking you so long?” I asked her as I glared at the nigga. It only took me a millisecond to recognize his face. He was her ex.
“Say, homeboy, I know you see us talking,” the black ass nigga spat.
I pushed Keirah back.
“Trent, let’s just go,” she tried to pull me away.
I ignored her.
“Ay, you don’t know me, man. And you definitely don’t want to see me. I’m telling you,” I let him know as I looked into his eyes like a real nigga should.
I think he realized that we’d seen each other before. He squinted. “You dirty, bitch. You been fucking this nigga all along?!” he belted causing the entire store to stop and stare.
“Chantez, you are crazy,” Keirah said from behind me.
“I’m crazy?” he pointed at his chest. “You ran off with my money and was fucking another nigga in our apartment and I’m crazy?”
“Oh, don’t make it sound like that. You got what you deserved. And that was my apartment!”
“Your apartment? I paid the bills, bitch!” he roared.
Bam! I hit that nigga dead in the jaw. “Call her another bitch, nigga!” I spewed as he threw blow after blow.
“Baby, stop,” she cried as she tried to pull me off of her bitch ass ex-boyfriend.
“Talk that shit now, muthafucka! Hit a real man! You can hit women, hit me!” I lashed as connected my fist with his mouth. Half of the issues I had with Keirah would be none existent if it wasn’t for that nigga.
“Killah, stop!” Keirah begged as she sobbed.
Finally, I stepped away from the nigga. I knew that I had to get the fuck out of there before the laws showed up, so I pulled Keirah to the car and we peeled out.
I had made it to the freeway and she was still crying like she’d lost her best friend. It was pissing me off. “What the fuck are you crying for?! You still love that nigga?”
She looked at me. “You sound so fucking stupid.”
“Answer my question!” I barked and caused her to flinch.
“No!”
“Well, why the fuck are you crying?”
“I don’t know!” she screamed. “I’m emotional. You got my damn nerves bad fighting in the store and shit. Your ass could’ve ended up in jail.”
“So, I got a little money. I can beat the case.” I shrugged nonchalantly.
She shook her head. “You are acting real stupid right now. This ain’t the Trent that I know.”
“Well, if I’m acting crazy it’s your fault.”
“My fault?” she scrounged.
“Yeah, your fault.” I nodded.
“How so?”
“You know, it be like that sometimes. When you love somebody you can do shit that’s out of character. You got that power.”
She gave me a look of disgust. “Stop saying that shit. I ain’t got no damn power over you.”
“Why you don’t? You don’t know how you make me feel.”
“I know that shit ain’t that deep.”
I grew frustrated. “How the fuck are you going to tell me how I feel? You act so fucking stupid! You got me. I’m here with you day and night. Then you gon turn around and tell me that shit ain’t that deep. You gotta be fucking kidding me. If you don’t do shit else in your life give me the benefit of the doubt, man. Got damn, I mean…what a nigga gotta do to get through to you?”
For a few seconds the car was filled with silence until she spoke up. She lowered her head in shame. “I’m sorry. I’m trying, Trent. You gotta know that. You just scare me, that’s all.”
“Well, you better face your fucking fears cause I ain’t gon keep putting up with this insecure shit.”
“I know,” she sobbed.
Damn. She was crying every time I raised my voice. When did she become so sensitive? She had to be pregnant. I looked at her. I just didn’t know. She was going to make me lose my sanity.
I exited the freeway and pulled into another gas station. “Baby, stop that,” I whispered as I pulled her into my arms. “I didn’t mean to upset you, okay. I love you.”
She nodded her head as I kissed her forehead. “Please don’t leave me.”
I sucked my teeth. “That’s the last thing you gotta worry about. I couldn’t leave if I wanted to.”
Man, she really had a hold on me. I knew she had a shit load of issues, but somehow she’d become my heart. I wasn’t going anywhere.
Chapter 21
Killah
“I hope the food is ready, because I am starving,” Keirah babbled, as I drove to her grandma’s house.
Her family was having a gathering for somebody’s birthday. Several people had called trying to get Keirah to show her face. She hadn’t seen her family much since I’d been in the picture, so I thought that it would be a good idea if we both went. She wasn’t really interested in going until the menu was revealed to her. They were having crawfish etouffee, fried fish, and potato salad. She couldn’t resist, which further enh
anced my suspicion of her being pregnant. Her appetite had really picked up.
I shook my head. “That’s all you worried about.”
“And what’s that?” she asked.
“Food.”
“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “Make a right, right here,” she instructed.
“Okay.”
“You can pull in here.”
I pulled my Benz in front of a simple white house. There were several other vehicles already there. People were hanging in the yard and we caught everyone’s attention as we exited my ride.
“Ke-Ke, is that you?” some older woman asked.
“Yeah, it’s me Ant Bell,” she spoke. “Is the food ready?”
“Damn, is that all you can think about?” her cousin asked. I recognized him because he was the same dude that brought her ex to her crib.
“Shut up, boy,” she chided.
“Keirah, who’s your friend that you got with you,” some chick asked as she sat on the porch.
“This is Trent,” she pointed at me.
“How you doing, Trent?” the girl asked with obvious flirtation.
“I’m okay. How about you?” I asked with a smile.
“Fine,” she grinned, batting her eyes. I shook my head as her thirsty ass. She was the type of girl that I wouldn’t call unless I wanted my dick sucked.
“Come on,” Keirah pulled me into the house.
Folks were everywhere and had already begun eating.
“Hey y’all,” Keirah spoke.
“Ay,” the whole house spoke simultaneously.
“Hello,” I waved and everybody spoke back.
“Who is this, Keirah?” a lady asked that looked almost identical to her. The only difference was that the woman seemed just slightly older, darker, shorter, and her ass was much bigger.
“Oh, this is Trent,” she introduced us. “Trent, this is my mama.”
I was a little shocked because this lady didn’t look old enough to be Keirah’s mama. She was still shapely and had youthfulness about herself. In fact, she was kind of fine.
“Nice to meet you,” her mama smiled.
“Likewise,” I nodded.
It wasn’t long before we were both eating. I had to admit that the food was on point. Her family could definitely throw down.
I couldn’t see why Keirah didn’t seem to get along with her family, because they all seemed real cool. I was thinking that baby was a little throwed off until her mama asked, “Whose Benz is that outside?”
“Oh, that’s mine,” I spoke up.
“Really?” her mama asked with a raised brow.
“Yeah,” I nodded.
A wicked smirk covered her face. “Did my daughter help you get that?”
“Mama,” Keirah frowned. “Why would you ask him something like that in front of everybody?”
“Oh, Keirah, please,” she waved her off. “I was just asking a question. It ain’t that serious, okay.”
“Whatever,” Keirah rolled her eyes.
I was a little thrown off by her mama’s line of questioning, but the conversation soon took another direction. They were all gossiping about some local broad letting her baby daddy, who was their family member, drive her car all the time. They were basically saying that the younger chicks these days didn’t know their worth and had to take care of sorry ass niggas. I was just sitting back and listening because none of that bullshit applied to me.
Every so often, Keirah would laugh at a comment. Then her mama posed the question. “Keirah, why do y’all take care of niggas these days?”
“What are you talking about…girls my age? I don’t take care of no man.”
“Yeah, right, honey. We all know that you’re the type that do for your man, and there’s nothing wrong with that to a certain extent, but buying these niggas, clothes, cars, and giving them money is too much.”
Keirah sat up in her seat. “And exactly who does that?”
“Oh come on, Keirah. You don’t do things for him?” she pointed at me.
“Yeah, I do. But that is hardly tricking.”
“Okay, can somebody change the subject?” Keirah’s cousin asked, sensing that the conversation was headed in the wrong direction.
From that point on, the women started cackling about some chick that didn’t have no hustle in her. “I mean, she got a nice shape, so I don’t know why she can’t find a man to help her and those kids,” Keirah’s mama said. Man, this lady was sounding more ignorant by the second.
“What does her looks have to do with anything?” Keirah asked.
“Shit, every man wants something to look at. As long as you got a nice body, somebody will always be willing to do for you. Maybe that’s something that you don’t know about,” her mama laughed.
“What? Well, I guess that your body is shot to shit, because you sure as hell don’t have somebody doing shit for you.”
“Okay, okay, hold it up, y’all,” another cousin interjected.
“Where is all this animosity coming from?” Keirah’s mama asked.
“From you.”
“Oh no, baby, it’s you. What’s the problem? I hit a soft spot? We were just talking…and if the shoe fits, wear it.”
Keirah stood up. “Come on, Trent, let’s go,” she told me. “You know what, mama? Misery loves company and you are one pathetic and miserable broad. You go out of your way to make me feel like shit. You have some real fucking issues. Don’t hold no grudges with me because the men you chose couldn’t seem to respect you enough to keep their hands off of me. No matter how big your ass is…you still find yourself alone and that should tell you something. All the body in the world can’t cover up how ugly you are on the inside. But from now on, I’ma stay away from all this ugliness.”
We left that house and that was the day that I understood my gal a little bit better.
* * * * *
Keirah
Trent had been gone out of town for the past three days and I was missing him like crazy. He had to fly to Miami to handle some things, and of course I had to work. I knew that he was out there surrounded around beautiful women while I walked with my ankles swollen delivering mail. I’d get sick to my stomach every time I’d think about him with another girl.
The first day that Trent was gone, he called me throughout the day which helped ease some of my worries; but by the next day my calls were going unanswered. At first I thought that maybe he had just missed my calls and would call me back; but at the end of the day, I started to smell foul play. I wanted to hop my ass on the first plane to Miami and strangle him.
I had never felt like this in all my life. I mean…yeah, I cared about other dudes, but not to this extent. I was jealous and going delirious trying to imagine all the things he could be doing. I know that he was telling me to trust him, but it was much harder than I ever imagined. He was too damn fine to be faithful. He had another bitch somewhere. I just knew it.
I needed to vent, but I didn’t feel comfortable calling any of my two-faced friends who would surely use the incident against me later, so I picked up the phone and called the chat line. It felt funny for me to call, this time. With all the other men, I would call sometimes and never felt anything. I kind of felt like Killah could somehow see me. Still, I went ahead and called. I figured that he was somewhere with his dick between some bitch’s lips. I might as well entertain myself. I had like fifty new messages and I wasn’t about to sort through all of that, so I called the fifth guy I came across.
Me and the dude talked for hours. He was real arrogant and we mostly debated about everything under the sun. He was very opinionated just like me. We hadn’t exchanged pictures so neither of us knew how the other looked. It wasn’t really a priority because I wasn’t concerned with seeing him in person. I just needed something to distract me. Otherwise, I would have been sitting around holding a quiet phone in my hand, waiting to hear from Trent.
“You talk too much shit, you know that?” he asked me.
�
�And I was just about to say the same thing about you,” I laughed.
“Man. Do you know that it’s seven in the damn morning and I’m still on the phone with your ugly ass,” he teased.
“Ain’t shit ugly over here, nigga.”
“Oh yeah? Well, prove it.”
“You ain’t said shit. You want me to send you a picture?” I asked him.
“No. How about we just meet in person?”
“Oh, you think that you’re slick. You think that you’re about to come and get some early morning booty, huh?” I snickered.
“Girl, please. For all I know you are a big whale. I don’t fuck with just anything. We can meet in a public place,” he suggested.
“Where?” I asked to see where he was going with things.
“We can meet at Denny’s and you can fill that big stomach of yours up.”
“You got jokes,” I laughed.
“So, are you going to meet me, or are you going to hide behind the phone? I know how you big girls are.”
“Really? Well then, you should know that a big girl never turns down free food. You buying?”
“I guess.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that if your ass pulls up looking like a bearilla, I’m leaving your ass in the dust.”
“Well, let me send you a picture first.”
“Hell, no. I don’t want a picture of your fine ass cousin. Yeah, I’m hip to y’all games.”
“You know what? You got issues,” I tittered, while knowing that deep down he was dead ass serious. Women did lie about their looks and would even go so far as to send someone else’s picture. I’d heard it all before. The thing is, men did the same shit. The games were universal and didn’t have a gender. What was crazy is that a lot of the men had the nerve to have preferences when most of them weren’t up to par. They could have the done-lap disease, but didn’t want a woman with a gut. It was all crazy, but I never got any complaints. Not even when I was thirty pounds heavier. The niggas usually loved me.
“So, are you game? I’ll buy some cake. You know big girls love cake.”
“Shit, the only kind of cake I love is the kind you hold in your wallet.”
Before I could even think about it, I threw on some clothes and headed to the Denny’s on I-45. I didn’t bother dressing up for once because it wasn’t like I had plans to make dude my man. Still, I knew that I was looking fabulous. My beautician had just done my hair the day before. My long bob with a Chinese bang was on point. Since it was cold out, I had on a half leather jacket with skin tight black jeans and thigh high boots. Okay, so maybe I was done up a little, but I wanted that arrogant ass nigga that called himself Footie to see how fly I was.
Can I Talk to You (G Street Chronicles Presents) Page 20