I tried fucking with a few bitches, but that didn’t provide much of a distraction. Not even when I was fucking. I kept thinking about how Keirah’s pussy was tighter or wetter. It was always something. Never in life had a woman affected me like this. I never even tripped this hard over Courtney.
One day, I had it so bad that I couldn’t take it no more. I had to see her one way or another, so I traded cars with Big Jeff and sat outside of her condo. Like clockwork, she pulled up at six o’clock. She must’ve had somewhere to go because she parked outside versus in the garage. She climbed out of the car and I thought that my mind was playing tricks on me. She had a round little baby bump. Her belly wasn’t huge, but it was noticeable enough and it could not be mistaken for a gut. She was even wobbling a little as she held her back.
She went into the condo and came back out twenty minutes later; I knew because I was watching the clock the entire time. Without her uniform, her belly seemed even bigger as she tried to look sexy in some tight ass jeans that were probably squeezing that baby half to death. It was the middle of February and she was walking to her car without a coat on. I wanted to get out and ask her where the hell was she going, but I had one even better. I would just follow her ass. She probably was off to see another chat line nigga.
I made sure to stay my distance as she drove down FM 1960. She eventually pulled up at Walmart. I watched her park and get out before I decided to park. I knew that if she spotted me it was over, so I let her go ahead of me. By the time I made it in the store, she wasn’t anywhere in sight, but if I knew her, her first stop was the book section. She loved reading that urban lit.
Just like I thought, she was looking at the books while a few niggas broke their necks trying to get a glimpse of that ass. Her hand rested on her belly as she skimmed through a book. I never thought that a scene like that would be so sexy to me. I was almost for sure that it was my baby that she was carrying.
I was kind of pissed that she hadn’t called me and told me shit. She was just going on with life without letting me know that I had a seed growing inside of her. Well, I knew that I hadn’t been taking her calls, but she could have sent a message or something. Shit, if that didn’t work, she could have just showed up to my house. Hell, she still had a key.
I followed her as she went from aisle to aisle. A part of me didn’t care if she realized that I was following her. At least then I could confront her stubborn ass. I watched her go to the bakery and eat two donuts. I knew that her ass wasn’t going to pay for them. Then she moved right along to the dairy section and opened a juice and started drinking. I had to laugh to myself. Sometimes that girl could be so damn ghetto.
As Keirah rounded the bread aisle, I decided to go down the next aisle so that she wouldn’t see me. As I stood on the next aisle I could hear her talking on her cell phone.
“Yeah, I’m on the bread aisle,” I heard her say. “Cause I wasn’t about to sit and wait for you,” she told somebody. She was probably meeting some nigga from the line.
I guess she hung up the phone because I didn’t hear her talking anymore. I decided to walk past the bread aisle to see what she was doing. Right when I was walking past the aisle, a tall and slim dude walked on the aisle from the opposite end.
“Keirah,” he said.
I stepped out of view, but not far enough where I couldn’t hear them.
“What’s up?” Keirah asked.
“I thought that I told you to meet me by McDonald’s?”
“I thought I told you that I wasn’t sitting over there.”
“You hard headed,” he grumbled, which I couldn’t argue with.
“And you ought to be glad that I met your ass at all,” she sassed.
I had had enough of their little back and forth game so I rounded the aisle. It was as if Keirah could feel me coming cause she turned around and our eyes met.
“Trent,” she gasped.
“What’s good?” I asked with a smile even though I wanted to break her neck. “This your friend?”
She glanced back at the dude she’d been talking to. “Umm, something like that,” she bit her lip.
“Who is this nigga, Keirah?” the dude interrupted.
“Ken, just chill out,” she threw a hand up.
I stepped around her. “Who the fuck are you?” I gritted on him. I was ready to murder the nigga. I could kind of tell that she knew him prior to this day. They seemed too familiar with each other. The thought of him possibly getting what was mine, was about to kill me.
“Keirah, you better let this hoe ass nigga know who the fuck he dealing with,” he growled.
I wasn’t a man that went back and forth. This nigga seemed like he had beef and that wasn’t something that I discussed. He never saw the slug coming. I punched him so damn hard that the nigga fell to the floor. I didn’t stop there. I grabbed him by the collar and hammered his face.
“Trent, stop!” Keirah pleaded as she tried to pull me off of her friend.
“Don’t touch me,” I growled as I pulled away from her. I looked at her little friend rolling around on the floor. He was done.
“That was uncalled for!” she screamed.
Before I could even think, I had grabbed her neck. I was never the type to lay my hands on a woman, but at that moment I wanted nothing more than to strangle the life out of her. Instead, I pushed her away and made my way to the car before somebody called the police on my ass.
I drove home pissed. It became clear to me that Keirah was never going to change. Baby Girl was never going to find a man when she wasn’t willing to bend. Every time shit didn’t go her way, she was right back on that chat line, meeting the next man. She was too scared to take a good look at things and find a resolution for her problems. I guess that she thought that the next man could heal the last nigga’s mess. I don’t think she knew that she was this sort of bag lady that brought automatic drama to the next man’s life.
* * * * *
Keirah
I still couldn’t believe that Trent had kicked Ken’s ass. Ken was always this hard nigga that acted like he was invincible. He would bust his gun at the drop of a dime and we all knew that he didn’t have a problem with laying his hands on a woman. So, I was surprised at how he let Trent kick his ass. I mean, he didn’t get one lick in.
I don’t even know why I agreed to meet Ken at Walmart. That damn Ski had given the nigga my number and he’d been calling for the past few weeks. He claimed that he had a lot on his heart and there were a few things that he wanted to say to me. I was kind of curious to know what he had to say, so I told him to meet me at Walmart. Of course, everything got crazy after Trent showed up on the scene. It was like he just came out of nowhere.
After the fight, I was surprised that Ken still wanted to have the talk. We went out and sat in his car. There he told me about the time he spent in prison. He said that he could never forget about me no matter how many other women were in his life. He claimed that he’d grown enough to now appreciate how I cared enough to try to stop him from getting in trouble. Other chicks didn’t seem too bothered by his criminal activity as long as he kept them laced. He told me about some girl running off with his thirty grand and how he knew that if he would’ve been with me, then he’d still have all his dough.
A few years back, I would have told him about how he had me second guessing myself after we broke up. Or how he left me bitter, but now I knew better. I did love Ken, I really did. But I loved him because of the way I thought that he loved me. He was the man that I felt would be there no matter what because he couldn’t do any better; not because I had the most beautiful personality or the fattest ass. No, I knew that I could always have him because he wasn’t all that hot, and I was attractive enough to do better. That edge over him made me feel secure within the relationship with him. But because I knew that he wasn’t going anywhere, I was never conscious of the way that I treated him. So, he sought the nourishment from other girls, who may not have looked as good, but who treated him
better, and made him feel like a man. And then when he started getting money, he came across chicks with the same looks as me with slightly better attitudes and it was all she wrote for me.
Ken and I both used each other as a crutch. He was once my ugly duckling that worshiped the ground I walked on, and I was the pretty girl that no one believed he could have. He was with me because I was like his little prized possession that he could show off to the world. Like, hey look at me, I might not be the hottest nigga, but look at what I got on my side. And I had him, so I didn’t have to worry about trivial shit like another girl taking my place or him not giving me whatever I asked for. There were never any challenges in it for me, so I never had to put myself completely out there. Ken was going to be with me regardless of how fucked up I was.
But now I didn’t want a man just because he wanted me. There had to be more to the story. He had to do something to me internally. I wanted a man that I couldn’t live without. I wanted a man to keep me on my toes. I wanted a man that wasn’t going to settle for whatever I gave him. I wanted a man that loved me with no strings attached. I wanted Trent.
So, instead of trying to make Ken feel bad about what he’d done in the past, I told him that there were no hard feelings. We had spent too much of our lives together to not speak every once in a while. He wanted to know about the dude that caught him with that mean left, and I told him that he was my baby’s daddy. He laughed and said that I always did have that effect on niggas.
Ken and I went our separate ways that day, and I let go of so many issues that I didn’t even realize existed until then. I had been carrying around so much baggage that I don’t know how any man tolerated me for long.
I went home and thought about Trent, aka Killah. He let that gangsta side come out that day and I hate to admit it, but it turned me on. Maybe it was the fact that I hadn’t had sex in over a month, but my body was on fire. I thought about getting myself off, but quickly dismissed the notion as I thought about the fact that I could no longer see my vagina.
It was like my belly had grown over night or maybe I was just late at noticing my body changes. I knew that I was gaining a little weight and I figured that I just had a bit of a gut. But like a couple of days after I had my first doctor’s visit, I noticed the roundness of my stomach. The doctor said that it was normal considering that I was damn near five months. I had been pregnant enough times to know pregnancy symptoms, but this one had alluded me. I was so wrapped into Trent that the signs went right over my head.
I could still remember the time when he fucked me on his shower’s wall and told me that he wanted me to have his baby. I had to laugh thinking how he had no clue that he’d already succeeded in knocking me up at that point. And it was comforting knowing that at least at one point, he did want a baby with me.
Chapter 23
Killah
A few weeks had passed since the incident at Walmart. I was in straight mash mode getting my paper. I didn’t have time to worry about bitches. I realized that women ain’t nothing but trouble, and along came this sexy chocolate broad who made me rethink my whole newly found theory.
Danielle was like a breath of fresh air. She had the authentic thickness that I loved and was a college student majoring in journalism. She had her own apartment and no kids. I loved how she exuded confidence. In fact, she approached me in the mall. She walked right up on me and slid me her number. I hit her later that night and by the next morning I was in her bed.
I liked that Danielle was not needy or any shit like that. She seemed to take everything I told her at face value or at least pretended to. She was like the exact opposite of Keirah. But deep down, I knew that different didn’t always mean better.
This new girl was trying to rush me. I told her that I had just gotten out of something heavy and that I wanted to take my time. She said that she was cool with that, but I think that she thought that her pussy would change my mind.
She wanted to fuck all day, every day, which I was usually cool with, but something inside of me was different. I didn’t feel the way I felt when I made love to Keirah. That’s what it was! I made love to Keirah, while I fucked Danielle or any other bitch. No matter how many dick sucks she performed, she couldn’t get me to forget about Keirah.
Danielle was moving so fast that she’d given me her house key in just a few short weeks. I couldn’t say that it was because she saw dollar signs, because she came from money. Her daddy was a doctor, so she lived a privileged life. She drove a Lexus and had an apartment in the upscale Uptown/Galleria area.
She really fucked me up the other night when she told me that she loved me. I mean, I might’ve halfway understood if it was during sex or some extraordinary event, but that wasn’t the case. She was lying on my chest and I was blunted out when she whispered, “I love you.” I didn’t know what to say so I pretended like I didn’t hear her. The entire situation made me uncomfortable, so I decided to put a little space between us.
A few days later, me and my nigga Big Jeff, were chilling at his spot. It had been a while since I’d really kicked it. Keirah had a nigga tied down for a minute, but now I was back in the mix. We were blowing back some serious grass.
“Say main…call some of your hoes up, nigga,” Big Jeff suggested, as he puffed on his blunt.
“Nigga, I ain’t got no hoes like that,” I told him.
“No, not you. You usually have ‘em lined up around the corner.”
“Well, you know that I was tripping for a minute playing house with that broad and shit.”
“Oh yeah,” he nodded. “You still ain’t fucking with little mama?”
“Hell, no,” I shook my head. Just thinking about her pissed me off. She still hadn’t called me to talk about that round belly she was carrying around. It had me thinking that maybe the baby wasn’t mine, but I doubted that. When we were good, I was digging in that pussy daily; leaving little opportunity for another nigga to get a whiff.
“Ay, I heard that y’all niggas be calling that chat line shit.”
“Where you heard that?” I frowned.
“Ted told me. I saw a few of the bitches that he met on there and they wasn’t too bad.”
I chuckled. There wasn’t no sense in me frontin. “Yeah, you can come across some straight hoes, but you gotta be careful cause some of those bitches like to lie about their looks.”
“Yeah? Well, give me the number, nigga.”
I ran down one of the chat line numbers to him and he called it. He set up an ad and started hollering at the bitches. He liked his hoes slim, so he was leaving his number with any broad that described themselves like that.
After ten minutes, some chick called him. When he realized where she got his number from, he put her on speaker phone, so that I could hear.
“Where you from little mama?” he asked.
“Trinity Garden,” she boasted, all ghetto-like.
“TG, huh? How old are you?”
“Twenty-one. Hold up,” she breathed into the phone. “Bitch, you know that you could have fixed me a plate,” she said to somebody in the background. “Hello. Yeah, I’m back.”
“That’s your homegirl in the background?” he asked her.
“Yeah, that’s my mean ass friend,” she giggled, teasing her girl.
“Fuck you,” I faintly heard the chick say in the background.
“She got a man? Cause I got a partner for her.”
“No, she ain’t got no man, but I doubt that she will want to talk to your boy.”
“Why not? She don’t like men?” Big Jeff asked.
“She’s pregnant, so I’m sure that she likes dick,” she sniggered.
“Don’t be talking about me,” the friend snapped in the background.
“Bitch, ain’t nobody talking about you, and get out my conversation.”
“Say, little mama…I didn’t catch your name,” Jeff said, trying to get ole girl’s attention.
“Huh? Oh, my name is Tameka.”
“Tam
eka, where your man at?” he pried.
“I’m single,” she sighed, not sounding too happy about that.
“That’s what’s up. You got any kids?”
“Nope,” she said as she popped her lips when she pronounced the P in nope.
“You still live out there in Trinity Garden?”
“No. I live on Antoine.”
“Oh yeah? That’s not too far from me. You ought to let me swing by and see you,” he suggested.
“Well, I’m not at home right now.”
“Where you at, then?” he asked.
“I’m at my best friend’s house off of 1960.”
“How long are you going to be out there?”
“Until tomorrow.”
“Shit, why don’t you get your girl to holla at my boy so that we can come and see y’all?” he pushed. I looked at him like he was crazy. Did he not hear her say that the broad was pregnant?
He must’ve read the expression on my face because he whispered, “Take one for the team, nigga.”
“I’m telling you that she ain’t gonna wanna talk to your boy. She’s stubborn like that. She ain’t over her baby daddy yet,” she explained.
“Well, why she ain’t with the nigga, then?” he questioned.
“Cause she stubborn like I just told you.”
“Tell your girl to stop being like that.”
“I did a million times already, but she don’t listen.”
“Stop talking about me,” her girl said out from a distance. “You don’t even know how that nigga look.”
“What your friend trying to say?” Big Jeff wanted to know.
“She’s saying that I’m holding this long conversation with you and I don’t even know how you look. You got a camera phone?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, well let’s exchange pictures,” she suggested.
“A’ight. You want to do it right now?”
Can I Talk to You (G Street Chronicles Presents) Page 22