Chapter Eight
Destiny Clarke
The divorce papers were filed, and my lawyer informed me that Hassan was going to be served this week. We had so much evidence on him from the pictures that Spencer gave me to the evidence that the forensic accountant found. That bastard had money stashed away in different accounts in different countries. I couldn’t believe that after I helped him to get on his feet, he would hide some money from me, and how dumb was I for thinking that he was playing fair. Now, it all made sense. I used to wonder where all the money he made from the firm went. Now, I had the evidence in front of me. I was going to court with full ammunition against him. My lawyer was asking for half of everything he got while we were married. Also, he asked for alimony. It’s only fair that I get what belongs to me. After all, it was my money that helped him.
After I left the lawyer’s office, I stopped at the fish market and grabbed some fresh whiting. I hadn’t cooked in a while, and Amaiya called me out on that earlier. To be honest, I used to love cooking for Hassan, but now that we’re done, I hated to even go into the kitchen. My daughter brought me back to reality, though. She was more important, and even though she often fixed her own meals, once in a while, Mommy got to throw down in the kitchen for her.
It was a warm day outside, so after I finished cooking, I decided to do some spring cleaning. I started with my room. I was ready to turn over a new leaf, so getting rid of everything that belonged to him was first on my list. I decided to play some music while I cleaned. I was really feeling upbeat. After all, this saga was about to come to an end, and a new chapter with Amaiya and Spencer was about to begin.
I was tired of the dull comforter that was on the bed, so I went into my closet and pulled out my lavender comforter. Then I pulled off the dirty sheets and threw them on the floor. I was about to put a fitted sheet on the mattress... when a small pink item caught my attention. I moved closer and picked it up. It was a pink rhinestone earring. I brought it to my face and closely examined it.
“You bastard,” I yelled out as I dropped it.
I don’t wear that cheap shit, so I knew off the top that it wasn’t mine. I bought all Amaiya’s jewelry, so it definitely wasn’t hers. Unless my husband was a faggot, it sure as hell wasn’t his. The only other scenario is this bastard had a bitch up in my bed. I got sick to my stomach, just imagining him and one of his whores in my bed, which I fucking bought.
Quickly, I grabbed my cell phone and called him. He pressed ignore on me, but I called right back.
“I’m in the middle of something. What the hell do you want?” he yelled.
“I don’t give a fuck about what you’re doing—you dirty, low-down bastard. You had your whore in my fucking bed,” I screamed.
“Destiny, baby, you’re really losing it. I didn’t have anyone in your bed. You need to quit with all these accusations,” he calmly stated.
“Hassan, fuck you. I’m holding your bitch’s earring in my hand, so I got fucking proof. Trust me—I’ll be sure to give it to my attorney.” I clicked end on him.
I sat on the bed, still staring at the earring. Why was I so shocked? I knew for years that he was cheating, but I turned a blind eye, hoping and praying that he would change. He didn’t. Instead, it only got worse. At the moment, I wasn’t feeling too strong, and I started to cry. I knew he was cheating, but this earring confirmed that he was not only cheating, but he had that whore in my house and in my fucking bed.
“Mama, what’s wrong?” Amaiya rushed over to me.
“Hey, baby.” I quickly dried my eyes.
“Ma, why you sitting here crying, and whose earring is this?” She snatched the cheap piece of metal out of my hand.
“I have no idea.”
I was tired of lying and making excuses for this bastard.
“Mama, listen to me. You need to file them divorce papers so you can move on. You’re so much better than him, and you deserve better. I know you worry about me and how I’m going to take it. Don’t worry, Mama. I know how badly Daddy treated you, and you deserve to be happy. I’m a big girl. I can handle it,” she said as she squeezed my hand.
I had no words after what she said. I gave her a long hug and rubbed her back. That was all the confirmation I needed. I really felt guilty that we were splitting up because I wanted my daughter to have both of her parents. I could see now that she was stronger than I thought. I was ready to see what the future held for us.
“Ma, I love you.”
“I love you too, babe. Now, go ahead and wash up. I cooked your favorite fish.” I smiled at her.
“All right, Ma, I’m starving.” She dropped the earring on the bed and walked out of the room.
I picked up the earring and wrapped it in a piece of tissue, then stuffed it into my drawer. After making my bed, I vacuumed the floor. I love the smell of clean linen. If only Spencer were around to share the bed with me, I thought as I walked downstairs to fix my daughter’s plate.
Hassan Clarke
“Mr. Clarke, there’s a person by the name of Johnson here to see you.”
“Thank you, Shari. Does he have an appointment? I don’t recall having him on my schedule.”
“No, sir, but he said it’s urgent, and he needs to talk to you.”
“Thank you. I’ll be out shortly.”
Johnson... This must be a new client or something, I thought.
I got up from behind the desk and walked out to the front. I saw the stranger but didn’t recognize him.
“Hello, I’m Attorney-at-law Hassan Clarke.”
“Hello, I’m Johnson. Please consider yourself served.” He handed me an envelope, turned around, and walked away.
I turned and saw Shari looking at me. Quickly, I clenched the envelope and walked into my office.
I sat down and ripped the envelope open. “Bitch!” I yelled. Destiny was divorcing me and asking for half of my earnings and alimony. Over my dead fucking body! She could get the little change that’s in the bank account, but that’s all that bitch was going to get her measly hands on.
I was in the middle of contacting a divorce attorney when this bitch beeped in on my line. I pressed the ignore button, but she called right back. I was in no mood to talk to this ho, but she caught my attention when she mentioned something about an earring. I tried to play it off, but I knew the earring belonged to Tanya. She was the only woman that I had in her bed. The funny thing is that I don’t recall her earring coming off. I held the phone away from my ear. There was nothing that bitch was saying that I wanted to hear. After she finished bitching, she hung up the phone.
I dialed Tanya’s number. I knew she did that, being on some spiteful shit.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Aye, B, the other night when you were over at the house, did you lose an earring?”
“Nah, why?”
“’Cause Destiny just called me, talking about I had a bitch in her bed.”
“And, so what if you did?”
“What the fuck you mean? I told you I was about to get a divorce, and I couldn’t afford for it to get out there that I was cheating.”
“Well, that sounds like a personal problem. Don’t you dare call me, checking me about another bitch.”
“Tanya, you’re starting to piss me the fuck off. I told your hardheaded ass to chill out. I have enough fucking problems in my life,” I yelled into the phone.
“I don’t know who you yelling at, but you need to lower your voice. I’m sick and fucking tired of the way you treat me. You treat those black bitches like they are queens, and because I’m white, you treat me like I’m a doormat. I’m done dealing with this bullshit. I guess I’ll see your ass in child support court. I don’t care who you fucking, because you will take damn good care of my baby.”
I then removed the phone from my ear. I was sick of all the fucking bickering. After about five minutes, I clicked end. I had no idea if she was still on the line. Truthfully, I didn’t give a fuck.
“Ow
eiii. . . . What a fucking day,” I uttered to myself.
I sat back in my chair, and for the first time in my life, I felt despair. I’ve always known how to get myself out of situations, but this time, I felt like I was drowning. None of these bitches had any idea that I’d beat their motherfucking ass.
I grabbed my phone and briefcase. I had a 2:30 p.m. meeting with my lawyer. I wished this shit would just go away, but for now, I had to deal with it. That bitch Imani fucked up by getting me locked up, and with that, she fucked up my life. This charge was serious. I’m an attorney, so I knew damn well this shit might not turn out good for me.
I parked and walked into Baxter & Associates. I knew the brother because we worked on a case together. I knew firsthand that he was a beast in the courthouse. I hate to brag, but I was that nigga, and these other lawyers were no competition when it came down to handling a case. Shit, I may come off better defending myself, I thought, but I quickly dismissed that idea.
“Hello, may I help you?” the cute little Puerto Rican broad said.
“Yes, I have an appointment with Jamal Baxter.”
“Sure, please have a seat. Mr. Baxter will be out shortly.”
Within a few minutes, Jamal walked out into the waiting area.
“Hassan, my man, come on in.” We exchanged daps, and I followed him into his office.
“I’m sorry that we had to meet under these circumstances. I was reviewing your case and was kind of curious about why you didn’t use your partner for it. Your firm is well known to be one of the best,” he chuckled.
“Well, I decided not to involve the firm in my personal affairs. Furthermore, you’re a beast in the courthouse, and I need someone with that experience,” I lied.
“Sure, I understand. OK, so I need you to tell me everything that went down. You know that’s the only way I can effectively provide counsel. I am not charging you anything, ’cause I consider you family. All I ask is that if I ever need any kind of help that you extend yourself the same way I did.”
“Damn, bro, that’s what I’m talking about. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. I got you.”
I sat in the chair, and this time, I told the story exactly the way it went down. I trusted him, and I knew he would do his best to get me off these charges.
“Have you spoken to Miss Gibson since the incident?”
“Nah, I’m done with that bitch. Excuse my language.”
“Well, it might be a good idea to go talk with her to see if she’ll drop the charges.”
“Man, this bitch got me locked up. I ain’t got shit to say to her, dawg.”
“Listen, bro, get out of your feelings. I need you to think like an attorney right now. This advice that I’m giving you is the same advice you would give to me if the roles were switched. This is a domestic violence case, and most times, the so-called victim recants their story. The DA will drop the case because it’s so much harder to win a case without a complainant. Think about it.”
He was making sense. I had plenty of cases dismissed because the women dropped the case or didn’t want to cooperate with the authorities. What bothered me was the fact that I had to talk to that bitch. After I got locked up, I vowed one night while I was in that cell that I would never see or talk to that bitch ever again. I had no feelings, and my heart was as cold as ice whenever I thought about her and her fucking bastard.
“Man, I swear I had no intention of ever speaking to her again,” I said as I sank in the chair.
“I understand that, but it ain’t like I’m asking you to fall in love with her. You’re a smooth talker, so finesse her a little and get her to drop the charges. Man, your career—and your freedom—depends on this.”
The word “freedom” rang out in my head, and I quickly understood what he was trying to say to me. I knew I had no other choice but to make up with her.
“I got you. I’m on it ASAP,” I confirmed.
We talked a little longer about what strategy he was going to take if Imani didn’t drop the charges. It felt strange because I was on the other side of the table this time. But I knew that I had to humble myself because I was not the lawyer in this case. I was the client.
I got up to leave, but Jamal spoke. “Aye, bro, please don’t do anything stupid while you’re out on bond. I don’t want this to blow up bigger than it is.”
“I got you, bro.” I opened his door and walked out, thinking about how I was going to get at Imani. I knew that bitch had a slick mouth and might come at me sideways. I knew I’d have to use everything in me not to beat her ass for getting me locked up in the first place. I stepped out in the humid weather, straightened my tie, and walked to my car.
I am Hassan Clarke. I can do this, I thought.
Chapter Nine
Destiny Clarke
Today wasn’t a good day for me. I woke up this morning feeling sick with flulike symptoms. I thought it was the flu, but I didn’t have a cold. I did have a bad headache, a mild fever, and a runny nose. My body felt weak, and when I went to use used the bathroom, I noticed I had a big bump with blisters on my pussy. That’s when it dawned on me. I was having an outbreak from herpes. I sat on the toilet seat and cried. I knew I had it, but reality finally hit me in the face. I was hurt, but I was also angry. I couldn’t get the wicked thoughts that I had for Hassan out of my head. I wanted him to feel everything I was going through... all the pain and the embarrassment.
I took a hot shower and some of my pills. The rest of the day was spent in bed going over my account and making a note of everything that I needed to do. I also called a realtor. I decided to sell the house and move into something much smaller. In another year, Amaiya will be going off to college, and then it would only be me.
Spencer wanted me to spend the night with him, but I declined. I just wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone, especially when I knew I couldn’t sleep with him. I knew if I explained it to him, he would’ve understood, but I chose not to. I felt ashamed and decided to tough it out. I recalled the doctor telling me that stress could trigger an outbreak, and I believe it because lately, I’ve been stressed out to the max. Hassan has put so much strain on me mentally and now physically. Some days, I wanted to throw in the towel and say fuck it, but I knew I deserved better. I didn’t want to be with a liar, a cheater, and an abuser. That man had put me through too much shit, and I would never allow him to even breathe on my pussy—ever again.
* * *
I got a phone call early in the morning. It was Hassan’s bitch, Imani. She sounded like she was drinking or smoking some shit. Whatever it was, that whore sounded desperate. She wanted her money. Even though I couldn’t fully understand what she was saying, I managed to make out that she was ready to meet with me. I sat up in bed with all kinds of thoughts running through my head. I thought about telling her that I didn’t want what she had, because, honestly, I didn’t trust that bitch. Besides, fifty grand was a lot of money to give away to a person. Hmm.... Whatever she had, I needed proof before I handed over my hard earned cash to that two-dollar whore.
I got out of bed and talked to Spencer for a little while. I told him that I had to meet with Imani, and being the protector that he is, he told me not to go. I wanted to listen, but I also needed the video of Hassan. I refused to let him walk away with a firm that I helped build and money that I put into his pocket.
I grabbed my purse and my keys, but I turned back and walked into Hassan’s room. I needed to grab something.
Imani Gibson
After I left Corey’s funeral, I couldn’t forget what he said to me the day I visited him in the hospital. He believed Hassan was the one who got him shot. Then his sister insinuated that I knew something about it. I knew one thing... I didn’t know anything about no murder. I wondered if Hassan could say the same thing.
I was tempted to call and ask him. Shit, I wanted to see why he was not at his childhood best friend’s funeral. I remembered how close they were, and his absence made me question if there were any tru
th to what Corey said. Did Hassan get that boy killed?
“Oh my God,” I yelled out. If Hassan did this, he did it because I lied to him about Josiah, and he found out about Corey and me. Guilt swept over me. I hoped this boy didn’t lose his life over a bitch that would never love him.
“God help us all,” I mumbled.
I watched as my son walked into the living room. I never really looked at him the way I did today, and I saw the resemblance to his dad, his real dad. I think I was in denial for so long that I had convinced myself that he resembled Hassan. I was so wrong. The older he got, the more he started looking exactly like Corey. I kind of felt guilty, but then again, a bitch had to do what a bitch had to do. Josiah didn’t appreciate what I did for him, but in the end, he would thank me. We lived a great life off Hassan’s dime, and Josiah never went without.
* * *
I was in the grocery store on White Plains Road, picking up some milk and cereal, which was all I could afford these days. I swear, I needed to get my hands on some money fast. Either that or find me a dope boy who I can throw this bum pussy on, suck the black off his dick, and lock him in. Shit, he ’ont even have to love me. Just him paying these damn bills would be good enough for me.
My phone started to ring. At first, I ignored it, but it kept ringing. I dug down into my purse and grabbed it.
“Hello,” I yelled in frustration.
“Mani, it’s Hassan. Please don’t hang up.”
I froze in the aisle.... Then I looked around to see if he were behind me.
I cleared my throat. “Umm, what the fuck you want? I have nothing to say to you,” I lied.
I was beaming with happiness inside. I thought I would never hear his voice again. I thought he was done with me, but I guess I was wrong.
“Babe, listen to me. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you. I swear, I didn’t mean to. It’s just that I snapped after I found out you cheated on me,” he cried.
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