Baby Momma

by Ni'chelle Genovese

  The club was gonna have to wait. Everything was gonna have to hold off a li‘l longer ’til I was done makin’ Michelle forget how much she was hurtin’. I reached ’round her and turned off the water.

  “Go lay on the bed, on your stomach.” She didn’t say a word and climbed out the shower. A nigga was ‘bout to put in some work. I glanced at the clock on the dresser to see how far off schedule I was. We had plenty of time. I waited for Michelle to lie out completely and then I covered her wet body with mine. She tried to get up on her knees first before trying to roll over and face me, but I stopped her by bearin’ my weight down and pressin’ my chest into her shoulder blades. I wanted complete control. I traced the shape of her ear with my tongue, and let her feel my dick regainin’ its stiffness pressed up against the small of her back.

  “Tell me what you want, baby.” I wanted her to say som’n dirty, ask me to do somethin’ different. She turned toward me and looked me in the eye.

  “Daddy, all I ever wanted was you.”

  For a minute I ain’t know how the fuck to respond. It always fucked with me when Chelle called me “baby” or “daddy.” A nigga done fucked up so much that she always seem guarded, like showin’ me affection or sayin’ somethin’ nice would eventually come back and bite her in the ass.

  “Baby, you got me. Stop worryin’ so much.” My niggas, this is what I like to call variety. I got one bitch gettin’ me off when she say my name, and anotha gettin’ me off when she don’t. I held Michelle’s gaze and, for a second, it felt like I could fix us. I could be faithful, treat her right. My voice caught in my throat.

  “Damn. I’m so sorry, baby,” and I really meant it. I kissed her shoulder, neck, forehead, and decided she was ready for this dick-down.

  “Spread ya ass fa daddy.” Chelle knew exactly what I meant. She reached back with a hand on the side of each cheek and parted all that ass outta my way. I supported my weight with one hand and guided my dick with the other. She started squirmin’ her ass toward me, tryin’a force me inside, so I gave her what she wanted. I couldn’t believe how long it’d been. I ain’t remember her bein’ this fuckin’ tight or gotdamn hot. My breath hissed out between my teeth. Chelle put her face in the pillow and was tellin’ me she loved me in between callin’ Jesus. Pro‘ly said she loved Jesus too. Ere time a nigga went deep she’d let go of that ass and I’d grab her hands and put ’em back, demandin’ she “hold it fa me.” The sun was comin’ through the curtains of our bedroom window and I let myself enjoy the faces she was makin’. Our sheets were some deep purple-colored shit she picked out and her caramel skin looked fuckin’ flawless up against ‘em. Most women don’t realize one important thing ’bout niggas: we visual as hell! Why the fuck you think porn stores, Web sites, hell even strip clubs make so much money? ‘Cause niggas like to see! Chelle loves it wit’ the lights off, so seein’ her like this wit’ her hair all lose, tanglin’ roun’ her face and neck, was bringin’ out my inner porn star. I just prayed we ain’ wake up Trey.

  I got into a serious rhythm and gave up on her holdin’ her ass, ’cause she wasn’t holdin’ nothin’ but the sheets between her teeth. She was gettin’ close. Her pussy was grippin’ the hell outta me and with each thrust my balls were startin’ to get that tight, full feelin’. I lay down flat against her back and circled my arm under her, grabbin’ her throat. She might not have liked bitin’, but she sure as hell ain’t mind chokin’.

  There’s somethin’ ’bout that shit, maybe it’s the control or the fear of death if a nigga squeeze too tight, I’m not sure. But that was it, I felt her body tense beneath me and her muscles tightened hard aroun’ my dick as she screamed words I couldn’t make out into the pillows and started to shake. I gave one last thrust, fightin’ hard against her grip that had me caught up like a hot velvet sleeve. I pulled out. The heat from my hand shielded me from the sudden temperature change as I closed my eyes and stroked myself, sendin’ a full, hot flood of whiteout ’cross her ass and lower back—Mi—chelle, unlike Honey, didn’t like a nigga to cum inside her. She barely tolerated it when I came anywhere on her body. I had to hop up and grab a washcloth or towel and clean it off ASAP or she’d catch an attitude. You would think that after years of bein’ together she’d try to get over that shit.

  In the time it took me to grab a washcloth, Chelle was out cold. Yep, I thought, feelin’ smug, that’s what that monsta dick do to ’em. We used up all the hot water, so ironically I took a quick cold shower and threw on some clothes. I peeked in on Trey, who was surprisingly still asleep, grabbed a sandwich and my phone, and headed to the club.

  15

  Daddy Daycare

  I’d been on the road for ‘bout twenty minutes before my phone was charged enough to turn on. I was calculatin’ in my head how much money I’d pro‘ly missed by not bein’ available. When I could finally get into my inbox there were three “9-1-1” texts from Big Baby, one from Derrick askin’ if I was at the crib yet or with Honey, and one from Honey that read, “ok, well gudnite.” Guess she finally figured out I wasn’t comin’ back. I pulled up to the club and saw D’s obvious-ass Mello Yello mobile but no one else. I suddenly remembered Danita’s deal and wondered what the hell she wanted in return for her silence, and what made her think I would compromise when it would pro’ly be cheaper to jus’ have her taken out.

  I walked into the club and went about my usual routine. I’d cleared the first three safes before I noticed a pile of coats on the floor on the side of the stage. Somebody musta been in here gettin’ some ass after hours las’ night.

  Derrick walked out of the kitchen with a plate of leftova wings from last night.

  “You know, Big Shirley was pro‘ly savin’ those for her warm-up tonight.” I was referrin’ to Shiree, one of our top earners. This bitch had the phattest ass, the thickest Coke-bottle shape, and she ate like her ass had its own mufuckin’ stomach! Playfully, I named that monster ass “Big Shirley.” She would walk by and ya boy would be like, “Hi, Shiree, how ya doin’, Big Shirley?” I done seen Shiree stab a hole in anotha bitch back wit’ a stiletto ova some damn onion rings.

  “They ain’ fa me, an’ she told me I could have ‘em. We been waitin’ for the last two hours, nigga. What happened to thirty minutes?”

  I was ‘bout to remind Derrick who the fuckin’ “captain” of this ship was but I was still stuck on “we” part of his sentence. “What the fuck you mean, ‘we’ been waitin’?” I saw movement out of the corner of my eye by the stage and was ’bout to make my way to the office for my burner.

  Derrick walked toward the stage. “Big Baby said he wandered in las’ night right after we left.”

  It wasn’t until then that I saw the li‘l scrawny kid who had apparently been sleepin’ on a pallet made from old, unclaimed coats. He cautiously approached us, crusty-eyed and still groggy. My first thought was that one of these stupid bitches left his ass in the car while they worked, but they woulda collected him by the end of the night. Someone had to be lookin’ for him. He was wearin’ Rocawear blue jeans and a Coogi polo shirt. They were a little big on him, but people who neglect their kids don’t dress ’em from head to toe in name-brand labels.

  “What the fuck, D? Why ain’ somebody take him to a shelter or the police station? What, this look like Daddy Day Care to y’all niggas? That ain’ a fuckin’ puppy, it’s a kid, now get him outta here!”

  I started to walk toward my office. I wasn’t expectin’ to hear any objections. I was shocked when Derrick walked over and blocked my path. His tone was angry and he had the nerve to grit his teeth as he spoke. Like he ain’ know a mufucka would snatch him up and straighten him the fuck out quicker than hummingbirds fuck.

  “Nigga, his momma sent him here. Danita. Nigga, she locked up an’ ain’ got no one else to watch out for him. She promisin’ she won’t talk if you’ll look out for her only son. Given y’all’s history an’ the shit she know ’bout our operation, at this point I think it’s fair to say we can’t shut her up.
If she decide to talk, too many of the blues we pay off scared to do any favors an’ we got no way of gettin’ to her, so let’s jus’ make her happy and find the li’l nigga a spot.”

  Somethin’ told me I shoulda killed that bitch. Now she was makin’ demands? I ain’ even know she had a son. I didn’t like ultimatums and I damn sure didn’t negotiate. But I was a calculatin’ mufucka. If Dee’s son was under my care, it was pretty obvious she wouldn’t dare breathe a word ’bout anything to anyone.

  “Li‘l nigga.” I walked toward the boy who was watchin’ us intently. I was sure he’d heard our convo. He knew what was up. As I approached him, I felt some of my edge soften. He had to be ’bout eight, scrawny as hell, with curly black hair. Hell, I had a son too, and he reminded me of Trey.

  “Li‘l nigga, what’s ya name an’ how old are ya?” He looked up at me and my breath caught. He had her light brown, slanted eyes, thick, dark lashes, square chin—he was his momma’s son. I almost felt ashamed of what I did to her face after seein’ it reincarnated on him. But what’s done was done.

  “So you ain’ gonna ans’a me?” He was still silent, starin’ at me blankly. I was on the verge of gettin’ pissed... .

  “Five. Sir.”

  I could barely hear his shaky reply.

  I was six four and he stood almost to my waist. I woulda sworn he was older. I felt myself calmin’ down. It was bad enough he had a ho for a momma, some trick he pro’ly ain’t even knew for a daddy, and now this.

  “D, he stays wit’ you until we figure somethin’ out, so go ahead and send word to his momma.”

  16

  All Closed Eyes Ain’t Sleep

  I’ll tell you what, a nigga’s work ain’t neva done. After Derrick left with the kid, I placed a few business calls. Looked like there wasn’t gonna be a count today. Apparently sales were down due to those bad batch scares and anotha one of my niggas was picked up afta one of the damn fiends who got a bad hit decided to drop dime on who sold it to ‘em. I put my cell down on the bar and looked aroun’ the empty club. This was my empire. I’d made a lot of money. Maybe it was time I got out while I was still on top. Not quit, jus’ retire. My phone lit up. It was Honey.

  “Hey, daddy, I miss you. I gotta work tonight? Are you gonna pick me up, ’cause I need to grab some things from the house.”

  I forgot I’d left Honey at the damn hotel. Yeah, she really needed that car, ‘cause a nigga was not feelin’ a drive ’cross town and back. I cleared my throat.

  “I got a betta idea. How ‘bout you take tonight off an’ we go shoppin’, maybe grab some food or see what kinda Jacuzzi that hotel workin’ wit’?” Jus’ then Michelle beeped in. “So, go get ready, I’ma be there in a few.” I switched over to Michelle. “Hello, sleepin’ beauty. Glad to see I ain’ put ya ass in a coma.”

  Chelle laughed and I could hear Trey in the background yellin’ for me. Suddenly all I wanted to do was be home with my family.

  “I’m cookin’ lasagna tonight. Maybe you can skip workin’ an’ come spend some time with me an’ Trey?” She sounded so hopeful.

  I had a flashback to our shower and her lyin’ on the bed in the sun. “Baby, Derrick had to go handle some biz so I’m runnin’ the club tonight. Let me jus’ get us open an’ I’ll be there soon as I can get a nigga in here to close it down for me, okay?” I could tell she was disappointed with my answer. I knew I couldn’t fuck up right now; a nigga was on probation.

  “Okay, Rasheed. I’ll just see you when you get home.”

  I hung up and called Big Baby as I started walkin’ out the door. He was gonna have to run this ship tonight. There was a car dealership that ran money for me when I needed clean bills. We also had product stashed in the door panels of a few cars for out-of-state runs and dry spells; that’s when good shit gets scarce in the area. This was gonna work out perfect. I could give Honey one of those to drive and we would be even without me eva breakin’ bread. I hit my boy Roman and let him know I was on the way.

  I pulled up at the hotel and called to let Honey know I was outside. I didn’t get an answer. While I parked the car I thought, why it feel like I’m always fuckin’ or fetchin’ somebody? I was outside Honey’s room and was ’bout to knock, but heard her on the phone.

  “I wish I could come help you too, but he on his way to get me now. We goin’ shoppin’.” She paused and giggled. “Well I guess you gon’ have to put some ice on it then, huh?”

  Who the fuck was she talkin’ to? I ain’ want anyone to walk up on me eavesdroppin’ outside her door, so I knocked and listened as she lowered her voice. “He here. Text me okay?”

  Honey opened the door, excited to see me.

  “Hey, daddy!” She jumped toward me for a hug and circled her arms aroun’ me.

  I didn’t hug her back. “I called to tell you I was outside, why ain’ you answer?” I swore on my life, if this bitch was fuckin’ anotha mufucka ...

  “Huh. Oh, I was on the phone wit’ my girl.” She walked over to the bed and started gatherin’ up her purse.

  I walked up behind her and grabbed her roughly by her shoulders. I knew I was fuckin’ up. My jealousy was gettin’ the best of me. I was showin’ too much emotion.

  “Don’t fuckin’ lie to me. Has anotha nigga been in here?” I looked at the messed-up bed, at towels on the floor, everything looked suspect.

  “I swear, Rasheed, no one was here. I’m not seein’ anyone. I told you, I love you, baby. You are the best thang that’s eva happened to me.”

  There were tears wellin’ up in her eyes and I thought, why get so upset? Calm down. I was jus’ with Michelle anyway, even if she was lyin’, fuck it. Now we even.

  I let go of her shoulders and pulled her toward me. I hugged her and inhaled, tryin’a detect cologne or anything masculine. My mind was semi at ease when all I could smell was that warm vanilla scent that was all her. Time for damage control.

  “I’m sorry, baby, I be gettin’ worked up ova nothin’. It’s jus’ hard fa me ‘cause you so fuckin’ fine an’ I’m worried one of these younga, betta-lookin’ niggas is gonna come snatch you up one day.” I leaned down and kissed her softly on the lips. She poked her bottom lip out in a cute pout and then kissed me back. I already knew where this was gonna go if I didn’t stop it, so I broke away from the kiss and placed my lips on her forehead.

  “Let’s go get this car, okay?”

  The dealership was only a ten-minute drive from the hotel. Pullin’ up, I saw a jet-black Impala with dark tint and chrome accents. It had a huge red ribbon tied ’round it. My boy Ro was good. We got outta the car and I walked Honey over to it. Her eyes were the size of saucers, and I could tell she wanted to ask me if this one was for her but didn’t wanna seem overly anxious, or like she was aimin’ too high.

  “Dawg, how you been?” Ro called out as he walked toward us. Roman was a short, midnight-black, chubby li‘l nigga. We used to call him Magilla Gorilla in school. Derrick was the one who realized he could be of use a few years back when a few major suppliers went down and it was next to impossible to move shit in or out of the area wit’out bein’ flagged. I always did all the deals and Derrick always handled the product supply once we got it. He saw one of those trucks that carries cars to the dealerships and thought of Ro. This nigga was always on our dicks in school; tryin’a help with this, or askin’ ’bout that. He’s what I called a fairy-tale hustla, and we the closest he would eva get to actually doin’ any real hustlin’. It was easy: I paid the overhead for Ro’s dealerships and, in return, if we needed to move supply, we simply loaded up a truck with hot cars and shipped ‘em over to a sister dealership where one of my boys would unload and hit the street. Nothin’ to it.

  “What up, black?” I reached out and shook his hand. “Dis is Honey, wifey.” I smiled over Honey’s head and gave Ro a wink. She was grinnin’ from ear to ear, too excited to stand still. Ro looked at Honey like he just ate an entire double chocolate cake and she was a tall, ice-cold glass of milk. She’d had
her suit dry cleaned at the hotel and was lookin’ like a million.

  “Hi, Mr. Ro, nice to meet you.” Honey reached to shake Ro’s hand and he grabbed it and placed a kiss on the backside.

  “A‘ight, Casanova, that’s enough, nigga.” I put my arm aroun’ Honey’s shoulders. “Let’s get my baby the keys so she can get a feel fa her new whip.”

  While Ro went inside to get the keys, I decided to get Honey’s opinion of the car—not that I needed it.

  “Wha’chu think, baby, is it what you had in mind or betta?”

  She had her face pressed up against the glass, lookin’ at the interior. Her phone was buzzin’ in her purse but she didn’t budge a muscle. “Daddy, I ain’ got words right now, I’m so fuckin’ happy. Oh my gosh!”

  It felt good to make her happy. My phone started vibratin’. It was Derrick.

  “Whatup, daddy daycare, you good?” I could hear a lot of noise in the background.

  “Rah, yo, this li‘l nigga trill!” Derrick was laughin’ in the phone. “He playin’ the Xbox an’ he lovin’ it. I hit the club but they said you weren’t there. I got a drop scheduled tomorrow A.M. I figure we need fresh prod’ for the streets, but I ain’ gonna be able to get it wit’ the kid.”

  I actually forgot all about the li‘l nigga. Ro was makin’ his way toward me. “D, lemme think on it an’ I’ll hit you in a few, a’ight?” I hung up jus’ as Ro handed Honey the keys. She looked at me to see if it was okay to take ’em and I nodded. That was all she needed. Honey unlocked the driver’s side door and hopped in. I looked over the roof of the car at Ro.

  “We good on that paperwork?” I was referrin’ to the fifty pounds of coke hidden throughout compartments in the car.