With his back to Desirae, the word bitch slipped out of his lips, but silently. At that moment, Tron realized that Desirae had to probably be the most uncooperative woman in the world. The only good thing about her was her body at this point, seeing as her face was bruised and scratched pretty badly. It wasn’t as bad as on Saturday, when Tron watched the shamed and humiliated woman run into the house. However, it was very clear to the outside world that whoever beat Desirae’s ass did a good and thorough job. Tron looked at her face and knew that he needed to say something to make the situation a little better. Now holding Titan in his arms, he placed him back down into his basinet.
“I’mma be the bigger person here and actually say sorry,” Tron said, looking over at Desirae. He couldn’t help but notice how her thighs were pushing together so hard they pushed one another further up into the air.
With folded arms, Desirae snapped her neck. “What you mean you sorry?” she asked. “What the fuck you sorry for, Tron?”
“Saturday,” Tron said, trying to sound as supportive as possible. “I been thinkin’ bout that shit a lot over the last couple days.”
“Oh, really?” Desirae said. She then rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You ain’t gotta go rubbin’ it in, Tron.”
“I ain’t try’na rub it in,” Tron said. “I was just lettin’ you know that you were right.”
Right? Desirae thought. For once, is this nigga respecting me? For once, is this nigga actually trying to come around and see my point of view? Desirae was astonished. Before she could really process his apology of sorts, she had begun to wonder about Tron’s true intentions. “No, it’s okay,” Desirae said. “It wasn’t your fight, obviously.”
“Yes, it was,” Tron said, looking dead into Desirae’s eyes. “It was. Like you said, you the mother of my children. At first, I really didn’t realize what was going on, but when I saw that chick coming up into your yard, followed by the people comin’ up the block, I shoulda got out and made sure that everything was okay. I can’t believe I just sat there like I ain’t see shit goin’ on.”
“You can’t believe it?” Desirae asked. “You can’t believe it?” She snickered. “I was the one out there gettin’ my ass beat in my birthday suit. And now you wanna say that you can’t believe that you ain’t do nothin’.”
“Look, Desirae,” Tron said, holding his hands up in the surrender motion. “I know how you feelin’ and…”
“Don’t tell me you know how the fuck I’m feelin’, Tron,” Desirae said, now sounding a bit angry. “I’m the one who gotta walk around with my face ass fucked up and shit. You shoulda seen the way my mama looked at me and the people at the library and my cousin, Tiffany. I ain’t even leave the house for like three days after that.”
Tron looked at Desirae’s face. Not wanting to add any salt to the already open wound in her pride, he turned and looked back at Titan and James. “Yeah,” he said. “Well, I just thought that I would say that.”
“Well, thanks,” Desirae said, clearly forcing a smile. “It’s good that you thought you would say that.”
Tron paused, his nostrils flaring. “What is your problem?” he asked angrily. “Every time I come over here and try to keep the peace, you always got some chip on your shoulder.”
Desirae shook her head and said, “I ain’t got no damn chip on my shoulder. I just…it just ain’t worth my time anymore to try to get you to even see and respect me.”
“Who said I don’t respect you?” Tron asked.
“Ain’t you the one who told me that I was just somethin’ to fuck?” Desirae asked.
Tron stepped closer to Desirae, wishing that he’d never made such a comment. He could tell, already, that this particular comment was going to be one that Desirae would probably never forget.
“I know, I know,” Tron said, smiling. “I know I shouldn’t have said that to you. I’m sorry. You know I was mad and didn’t really mean it.”
Desirae looked into Tron’s eyes, remembering how those very same eyes used to get her panties off when she lived over on the south side.
“Yeah, yeah,” Desirae said. “I’m over it now.”
Tron nodded, looking down at Desirae’s chest then body. She turned away and walked toward the kitchen. “You want something to drink?” she asked. “I’m goin’ in there to get somethin’, anyway.”
“Yeah, I’ll take whatever you got,” Tron responded. “A nigga don’t care like that.”
Just as Tron was turning back around to spend a little more time with his sons, he made sure that he watched Desirae walk into the kitchen. Damn that ass is phat, he thought. Tron watched the light jiggle in Desirae’s backside as she disappeared into the kitchen. Before Desirae could walk back into the room with two glasses of whatever to drink, Tron stepped into the kitchen.
“I really do mean that,” Tron said. “I really am sorry. I was talkin’ to my boy, Tyrese, about how I was feelin’ about Saturday. And he even told me that I shoulda got out the truck and made sure that you was okay since you gotta take care of my sons.”
Desirae looked up from the refrigerator, her ass sticking out in the air as she’d been kneeling over to grab a jug of cranberry juice.
“Hmm, hmm,” she said. “It’s all over with now.”
“Who was the chick anyway?” Tron asked, thinking back to when he’d seen her rush up the walkway and toward the front door.
“Nobody,” Desirae said.
At this point, Desirae had already grown tired of Tron talking about Saturday. Each time he’d brought it up, she could only think of how much her face hurt when she looked up at Veronica; the way her head hit the grass when Veronica had knocked her to the ground; the chilled fall wind hitting her naked body when the robe had been pulled off and thrown to the side.
“We ain’t gotta keep talkin’ bout it, Tron,” Desirae said, a tear rolling down the side of her face.
Tron noticed that Desirae was getting emotional from him talking about Saturday. He decided to back off the topic. He grabbed a paper towel from the roll setting in the middle of the kitchen table and walked over to Desirae. When he handed the paper towel to Desirae, who was now pouring two glasses of cranberry juice at the kitchen counter, he pushed up on her as soon as she turned around.
“What you doin’, nigga?” Desirae asked, snapping her neck back.
Tron, whose eyes had been angled down toward the massiveness that was Desirae’s ass, smiled. “You know,” he said. “I know just what that ass need.”
Quickly, Desirae sat the jug of cranberry juice down onto the counter. She turned around, pushing Tron away from her. “Naw,” she said, shaking her head. “Don’t come over here after everything we’ve been through and even think that you bout to get up in this pussy.”
Tron shook his head. “Stop playin’, Desirae,” he said. “You know that ass need some of this dick, so I don’t even know why you playin’. I ain’t try’na start nothin’ up with you. I just know that you prolly in need with how you feelin’.”
“Need of what?” Desirae asked, wanting to laugh. “More drama and shit, or more disrespect from you? Guess you came over here and saw this ass and just couldn’t help yourself.”
As much as Tron didn’t want to admit it, Desirae’s ass was indeed the motivation behind his actions within the last couple of minutes. Even from the front, Tron could see it. It poked out from behind her and called his name, reminding him of how he would drop by her place on the south side and drop several inches of dick into her insides.
“C’mon, Desirae,” Tron said. “You know you want some of this dick.” Tron stepped closer to Desirae, positioning himself as if he were about to slide his hands around to the back of her then down to her ass cheeks. “Why you gotta play?”
“Stop, Tron,” Desirae said. “I don’t want you no more. Just like you don’t want me no more.”
“That don’t mean you not try’na fuck,” Tron said, sounding a little snappy. “I can see the look in your face that you just
need a good dick down.”
Desirae paused for a moment, noticing that Tron was getting hard under his pants. She turned around and continued preparing the two glasses of cranberry juice. “Boy, that ship has sailed,” she said. “I don’t even know why you try’in. Guess you can’t get no pussy nowhere else.” She shook her head, thinking, Niggas will do anything to get with a chick when they see she got a ass like this. She smiled, gloating in the fact that regardless of how messed up her face was at the moment, she still had what it took to make a man lose his mind.
When Desirae turned around to hand Tron his glass of cranberry juice, she was surprised as what she’d seen. Tron was quickly undoing his pants then his zipper. Seconds passed and his semi-hard dick was hanging out of his fly, dangling back and forth against the front of his pants.
“See,” Tron said, noticing how Desirae had stopped dead in her tracks, in silence. “You be try’na play with a nigga and shit, but you know you need some of this dick.”
Desirae shook her head, trying to look away from Tron’s dangling manhood. It was so hard, especially since the last man (Greg) that she’d had inside of her was probably no bigger than six inches in length. As good as Tron’s manhood looked to Desirae – and it definitely looked good, she was not going to deny that – she just could not let him think that she was just a vagina he could use when he got to feeling lonely, especially after all these months.
“What the fuck is you doin’, Tron?” Desirae asked, still looking down at his penis. “Now, after all these months…after you see that some otha nigga was up in here try’na get with this…you wanna try to get back with me when you ignored me for all these months. Damn, I know my ass got bigger from the weight I gained from carrying the twins, but I ain’t think it was like that.”
Tron looked down at Desirae’s hips. Slowly but surely his dick was rising to the point where it was nearly sticking straight out from his body. “Yeah,” he said, smiling. “That shit is huge now.”
Desirae, looking down at Tron’s rock hard manhood as it pointed out from his body, shook her head. “You really think I’m just a hoe, don’t you?”
“Huh?” Tron asked, looking confused. “What you mean? I don’t think you no hoe. I just know what you need and when you need it. I don’t even know why you gotta go actin’ like this.” Tron stepped closer to Desirae. The head of his dick pressed against her stomach, an action which he’d done purposely to remind her of what she was missing, and how deep into her pussy he used to dig before they’d fallen out with one another. “Stop,” Tron said, softly and suavely. “Why don’t you let a nigga get some of that pussy, and we’ll all be good?”
Desirae shook her head, not believing what was going on. Instead of coming up with a response to Tron’s comments, she tossed the glass of cranberry juice onto his face. Surprised, Tron quickly closed his eyes as his body shuddered lightly under the feeling of cold liquid suddenly hitting his body and rolling down the front of his shirt.
“What the fuck you do that for?” Tron asked.
Desirae pushed past Tron, sipping her cranberry juice and smirking. “You looked a little hot and bothered,” she responded. “I thought you just might want something to cool yourself off and stuff. That’s all, Tron.”
Tron shook his head as he watched Desirae sashay out of the kitchen and back into the dining room. Now going soft, he stuffed his manhood back into his pants and put himself back together. He walked into the dining room and saw how Desirae was bent over the basinet and talking to Titan. Even though she’d just thrown a glass of cranberry juice in his face, he still couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted to dick Desirae down as if she’d stolen something from him. He knew that she was just teasing him with how she’d put an extra bit of an arch into her back when she bent over, and it was driving him crazy.
“Plus, I don’t know why you try’na get with me anyway,” Desirae said. “Ain’t like you ain’t got a chick already.”
“I ain’t got no chick,” Tron protested. “I don’t even know what the fuck you talkin’ bout.”
“Nigga, you know what the fuck I’m talkin’ bout,” Desirae said, remembering the one card she had up her sleeve that she could play. “I rolled by your place not too long again, and you won’t believe what I saw.”
Instantly, Tron became a little nervous. His mind went right to Reese as he tried to think of where Desirae could be going with this conversation. However, Tron also figured that it wasn’t likely that Desirae had seen Reese’s car in the community parking lot. She always made sure, as far as Tron knew, to park on the other side of the parking lot where there were generally more cars.
“What are you talkin’ about, Desirae?” Tron asked. “What the fuck is you talkin’ about?”
“Nigga, you know what the fuck I’m talkin’ about,” Desirae said. She turned around and looked across the dining room table at Tron. He was still standing in the kitchen doorway. “Nigga, I know what I saw. Tell me the truth when I ask you this one question. Is you still fuckin’ my old friend Reese?”
Tron could have broken into a sweat at that moment. He’d been so sure that what he and Reese had going was on the low that he wondered how Desirae just so happened to ride through his community and see that Reese’s car was somewhere out in the massive parking lot. He’d even made sure that when he and Reese had gone places together, they always went to a mall, restaurant, or store that was in a part of town the two of them were not likely to run into anyone they knew.
Desirae noticed that Tron was having a hard time answering the question. She shook her head, thinking about how some men just were no good. “Exactly,” she said. “I saw her car when I rolled through there one day. I know it was her car because she still got that raggedy ass air freshener hanging in the window. Dumb bitch. Make sure you tell her that when I run into her flat chest, no ass havin’ self again, I’mma beat that ass again. I don’t care what nobody say.”
Tron walked over to Desirae. “Look…” he said, trying to think of what to say.
Before Tron could continue his sentence, Desirae reached out and slapped his still-damp face. Tron turned his head, feeling the sting as he had to refrain himself from treating Desirae as if she were a man.
“Why you slap me like that, Desirae?” Tron asked.
“Why you fuckin’ around with my best friend still?” Desirae snapped back. “Then, you try’ta come over here and get in this ass like it belong to you or somethin’. Guess some things don’t change, huh? That bitch Reese still can’t keep no man’s attention longer than two seconds. Guess you realized you needed someone with a ass like mine to take all that dick.” She shook her head. “You made that bed, so you lay in it.”
***
Tron visited with Titan and James for about thirty minutes more before leaving Desirae’s mother’s house. Most of the time, the two remained silent. Tron was mad that Desirae had gone to extremes by not only throwing a glass of cranberry juice in his face but also by slapping him as hard as she could. When he walked out the door, he walked down the walkway in silence – a silence that was filled with anger and frustration. Desirae watched from the door, as the back of Tron got further and further away from her until he got to his car. She shut the door and burst into laughter.
“Now he want me,” Desirae said, shaking her head. “Now that nigga want me. That shit just don’t make no damn sense.”
Desirae then realized that even with everything she’d gone through on Saturday, the end result was still the same: Tron saw that some other dude was trying to get with her and now he wanted to reclaim his territory.
Desirae closed the front door, knowing that she’d make good on her promise to catch up with Reese sooner or later. Just as she was stepping up to the basinets in the dining room to look at James and Titan, her phone vibrated on the dining room table. She picked it up and answered, not even taking a second to see who was calling her.
“Hello?”
“Damn, girl. Long time no see.”
“Well, duh, girl,” Nalique said. “Who you think it was? Girl, where you been?”
“Girl, I can’t work up there no more,” Desirae said, thinking quickly. “I just can’t do it.”
“Why?” Nalique asked. “A bitch over here wonderin’ what happened to you and shit. I asked Greg and he always actin’ like he too busy to talk about it when I ask him. That’s how I knew somethin’ was up.”
“Girl,” Desirae said, pulling a dining room chair out so she could get more comfortable, “you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Hmm, hmm,” Nalique said. The skepticism was clearly at the base of her voice. “Well, anyway, girl. I was just callin’ to tell you that the checks came in if you wanna come up in here and get yours. I can try to slip it out of Greg’s office when he goes on break or somethin’, if you don’t wanna see him.”
Desirae gripped her forehead as she looked across the dining room and into the mirror on the wall. She couldn’t wait until the scratches and bruises healed so that she could go back to being her beautiful self. With how she was looking right now, the very last thing in the entire world she ever wanted to do was to have that walk of shame into the Family Dollar. She was quite sure that humiliation would be in every step she took. Sitting at her mother’s dining room table, she didn’t need to expend much energy to imagine how she’d feel with the eyes of her former coworkers looking at her when she walked into the store.
“Girl, I don’t know,” Desirae said, hesitantly. “I can come up there in a little bit, but would there be any way you could bring my shit out to me real quick? Girl, I really don’t wanna see Greg when I come up there. I really don’t.”
“Girl, I can’t make no promises,” Nalique said. “I mean, I can try to get it out of his office for you, but you gotta make sure that you tell me when you comin’ up here. That way I can try to have it ready instead of just you poppin’ up whenever.”
The Diary of a Side Chick 6 (SCD) Page 10