by Jade Jones
As the two men talked business, Shayla’s mind wandered to Kimberlyn and how her night ended with ol’ boy. That bitch ain’t even call me to see if I made it home okay. She’s gonna hear about that shit too, Shayla told herself.
“Right here we have the 2014 Mercedes-Benz C250. It’s an automatic 7-speed and only has 9,000 miles on it.”
Romeo turned to Shayla for her opinion. “How you feel about this?” he asked.
Looking the four-door sedan over, Shayla nodded her head in approval. “I like it…But you took me as someone who liked faster cars.”
Romeo and the salesman laughed in unison.
“I ain’t da one that’s gon’ be driving it.” Pointing to Shayla, he said. “You are.”
Shayla’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Wait—what? You’re trying to buy this for—no, no. Romeo, I can’t let you do that.” She then turned to the salesman. “It’s a no go—”
“Shayla…,” Romeo interrupted. Placed his hands on her small shoulders, he tried his best to calm her. Her humility was so adorable. “Look, I love where ya head and heart’s at…but learn to accept when a real nigga wanna do somethin’ nice for you.”
Shayla opened her mouth to respond but closed it after realizing she didn’t have anything to say. No man had ever gone the extra mile for her—not even Dex.
Taking her silence for acceptance, Romeo turned to face the awaiting salesman. “We’ll take it.”
13
A few men turned their heads to admire Shayla as she headed towards the bar. Every Saturday afternoon she met up with Kimberlyn for wings and hookah at Cloud 9. It was a weekly ritual the girls had been doing for nearly three years.
With all the “male drama” in their lives, it was vital they get together once in a while to dish their dirt. Shayla looked beautiful that day in a denim pencil skirt, white crop top, and studded open toe white booties. Her ass sat up nicely in her attire, commanding attention from every fella in the room. For once, there was in confidence Shayla’s stride—and it had a lot to do with the mysterious Romeo.
“Bitch, I know I ain’t just see you pull up in the foreign though,” Kimberlyn greeted. Unlike Shayla, she was a dressed a bit more casually in jeans and a black sleeveless turtleneck. Her long hair was pulled high in a ponytail, and she wore minimal makeup. That definitely wasn’t like Kim, but the niggas had her all out her element.
Shayla slid into the empty barstool beside her friend and flagged down the bartender. “Girl, yes. I’ve had quite the morning—”
“Wait, before you tell me, why did I just find out Cool might be getting an early release?”
Shayla gasped in shock after hearing the news. His sentence had been firm the day of the trial, so she couldn’t imagine what brought about the change. Usually, guys who faced Cool’s charges weren’t anywhere near as lucky to see an appeal.
“What are you gonna do if he gets out early?” Shayla asked.
“What the hell you think? I’ma keep living,” Kimberlyn said matter-of-factly.
“I mean are you done with him…or…”
“I’m over that life, Shay. And at the end of the day he has no choice but to respect it,” Kimberlyn said. “That chapter in my life is done. I’m through with exposing my son to that shit. And I’m through with being a part of it.”
At that moment, the bartender rushed over and inquired about their beverages. And it was just in time too, considering the tension. Only Cool could get Kimberlyn so worked up.
Shayla went ahead and ordered her usual, Peach vodka, and Kimberlyn an Apple martini. Once their first round arrived, Kim went on to explain her long night and early morning with Desmond. She also spared no details when it came to the run-in with his baby mama.
“What is up with you and these low lives you attract?” Shayla asked, shaking her head. Kimberlyn sure could pick them.
“That’s just the thing,” Kimberlyn said. “I never remembered Desmond being that type. When we first met, he was upfront about her—about everything...I’m not proud of it, but I made the decision to roll with the punches anyway. I don’t see why he would lie about the shit now.”
“Seasons change and so do people,” Shayla reminded her.
“True,” Kim agreed. “But Desmond wasn’t like that. From Cool I could expect it…but Dez…He isn’t anything like Cool.” There was a faraway look in Kimberlyn’s eyes as she reflected on the passionate night they shared. She longed for many more, but it was obvious Dana wasn’t having it. And Kim had never been one to willingly share.
Shayla snorted, interrupting her thoughts. “That I could believe. Cool is irredeemable filth,” she said. “I would hope it couldn’t get much worse than that.”
Kimberlyn was just about to respond before she saw a familiar face walk in the lounge. “Oh, shit. Don’t look now.”
Doing the exact opposite, Shayla turned in her seat and literally froze at the sight of him. Headed straight their way was none other than her ex-boyfriend, Dexter. Even with everything they’d been through Shayla couldn’t deny how attractive he looked. A few months felt like forever since the last time she’d seen him.
Dressed in a $325 Maison Kitsuné hoodie, black jeans, and classic black Timberland boots, Dexter always had been the trendy type. His lineup was crisp and his deep chocolate skin had a natural glow. Dexter was fine as all hell…but he was also a liar and a cheater—and Shayla would never forget that.
“Damn, we gotta change up our habits,” she told Kim. Her ex was the last person she expected to pop in on her.
Dexter’s Clive Christian cologne reached them well before he did. “What’s up, Kimmy?” he greeted. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked over at Shayla. “Can I talk to you for a second, Shay?”
There was an awkward period of silence amongst the three of them before Shayla finally responded. “I’m politicking with my girl,” she said, hoping he’d take the hint.
Dexter looked over at Kimberlyn and asked, “Do you mind?”
Holding her hands up in mock surrender, she said, “Not at all. Do you.”
If Shayla were the violent type, she would’ve slapped the shit out of Kimberlyn. I shouldn’t even be entertaining him at this very moment, she told herself. But I guess the least I can do is hear him out. Besides, it’s not like I didn’t ignore his phone calls for the last couple months.
“Fine,” Shayla said, climbing out her seat.
Together they walked out the front door so they could talk in privacy, without the background music. Once they were alone, in the comforts of themselves, Dexter began. “First, I wanna tell you I miss the hell outta you, Shay. You lookin’ real good today too, I see you.”
Unimpressed, Shayla folded her arms and tried to pretend his words didn’t affect her.
“To be honest, a nigga been sittin’ out here the last thirty minutes waitin’ for you to come. I know you and ya girl frequent this place like clockwork,” he said. “Anyway, I saw you pull up in ya new whip. I started to go in after you right away, but had to get my choice of words together.”
Shayla remained silent as she listened. This was their first time talking civilly since their breakup, and it felt strange. His act of betrayal was one that couldn’t be forgiven or forgotten easily.
“So…when you get da new ride?” Dexter asked, looking over at her shiny Mercedes. Truthfully, he just wanted to take the focus off himself.
Romeo had gotten the car washed and waxed before they pulled off the lot. The tires even gleamed with polish. It’d been nearly eight years since Shayla had her very own car, and Romeo put her in one without batting an eyelash. They barely knew each other, and he’d already done something for her no man had ever.
“Ironically today,” Shayla finally spoke up. “And I didn’t buy it. A friend did.” She refused to take credit for Romeo’s blessing—especially if it made Dexter jealous.
The look of envy in his eyes immediately let her know he was. “A friend?” Dexter repeated skeptically. “We onl
y been apart a few months and you already got niggas buyin’ you cars? Hell, if I ain’t know any better I’d say dat friend been around, if you catch my drift.”
Shayla instantly propped her hands on her curvy hips. “Are you insinuating that I cheated on you while we were together?” She was morbidly offended considering the actual circumstances. Shayla was as loyal as they came, and Dexter knew it.
“Aye, if the shoe fits,” he retorted.
Tossing her hands in the air, Shayla prepared to walk off. “You know what? I don’t have time for this.”
Suddenly, Dexter latched onto her forearm. “Hold up. Damn, I ain’t mean all dat. Shit, what you expect from me, Shay? I been missin’ you like crazy. A mufucka barely can sleep at night, and come to find out you already got suitors…Mufuckas puttin’ you in cars and shit. Somethin’ I ain’t ever been able to do. How the hell you think that’s supposed to make me feel as a man?”
“I honestly don’t care,” Shayla told him. “This conversation is over. Now let go of my arm. You’re hurting me.”
Instead of granting her wish, Dexter’s grip tightened. Apart from being a cheater, he was also known to have a temper. Although he had never gotten overly violent with Shayla, he did have a tendency to get a bit rough when he didn’t get his way. Raised with a silver spoon in his mouth, Dexter despised being told no.
“Come on now. Why you actin’ like this, Shay? All I wanna do is talk. Damn, why you givin’ me hell?”
“Did you hear me? I said let go of me.”
“Is there a problem?” Kimberlyn asked, stepping outside. There was a genuine look of concern on her face as she waited for a response. If in fact some shit were to pop off, she had no problem going in her purse. Kim definitely didn’t play when it came to her girls.
Dexter finally released Shayla’s arm, leaving a nasty purple handprint behind. “Aight then. I’ma get up wit’chu later. ‘Cuz this ain’t over, Shay,” he said, walking to his parked BMW. “You got da right one. Believe dat. I ain’t ever finna sit back and let a nigga take what’s mine.”
In silence, Shayla and Kimberlyn watched him pull off, burning rubber in the process. Something told her that wasn’t going to be their last run in.
14
It was ten minutes to six when Desmond and Romeo arrived at their newly purchased warehouse in Old Fourth Ward district. The two obtained the building merely to store large quantities of marijuana coming in from Cali by the metric ton.
As a front, they also bought out a truck company to transport product straight from L.A. Keeping suspicions down was the name of the game, and Romeo and Desmond played it with full expertise.
Prior to moving down, they’d purchased the property and were finally taking the time out for a walkthrough.
The old industrial building reeked of old age, but it had an awesome structure and expansive space. With a little tender, loving, care the place would be ship-shape for proper usage in no time.
“How you feel about it?” Desmond asked, walking around the main area. Once things got a bit more organized he planned on bringing in more workers to manufacture three times as much product. Ava was against the idea of course, not wanting to reveal her tactics to strangers; but Desmond was sure with a little persuading she’d eventually give in. Growing out of his house was getting old; they were in the big leagues now. Besides, more product meant more revenue, and Ava ultimately couldn’t argue with that.
“Shit, I’m fuckin’ with it,” Romeo answered half-heartedly. Truth be told, his mind was on Shayla. For some strange reason, he couldn’t get her out his head—which was out of the norm for a nigga like him.
“So I seen you creep off with ole girl from da club last night,” Desmond said, changing the subject. “Were you able to redeem yaself?”
Romeo chuckled and ran a hand over his fresh cut. “Nah, homie. We ain’t ‘een go there last night,” he told him. “But I did make up for it dis mornin’. Took her to da dealership and put her in somethin’ nice.”
“Wait a second, bruh. Da chick you met last night? Da one you just said you ain’t go there with.” Desmond burst out laughing hysterically. “Oh, shit. So you buyin’ bitches cars now, huh? Dat’s what’s hot in da streets, my nigga?” he teased.
Romeo joined him in laughter. His antics amused even him sometimes. “Aye, fuck you. I get it back, fool. Easy.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, Desmond could only admire his friend’s injudicious attitude. Romeo didn’t flinch when it came to spending money on hoes. He’d even sent one chick through law school. Desmond only hoped Shayla was worth his paper and time. “Fool, you always was a trick ass nigga,” he laughed. “Anyway, tell me why my baby moms came up to da crib wildin’?”
Romeo’s eyes shot open in shock. “Bruh…?!”
“Dawg, I had to pull da bitch off Kim.”
Romeo couldn’t stop himself from laughing at his boy’s misfortune. “See, homie. I done told ya ass ‘bout wifin’ these hood hoes. Da pussy ain’t worth da headache.”
“Shit, tell me about it,” Desmond agreed. Romeo was all too familiar with Dana’s antics. And now that she was here in Atlanta, things were only about to get worse.
***
Parked across the street from the warehouse in her rental was Dana. Desmond had no idea she’d been clocking his every move since her arrival.
Dana wouldn’t hesitate to blackmail his ass if need be. At the end of the day, she knew too much about him and his operation to go down without a fight.
“This nigga can play with me if he want to,” Dana said. “I will fuck up his whole shit.”
***
Later on that evening, Romeo and Shayla met up for dinner at The Capital Grille in Buckhead. Normally, he didn’t like entertaining chicks that didn’t put out on the first night—but Shayla was different. Being around her felt like a breath of fresh air, and though she was unlike what he was used to, Romeo welcomed the challenge.
As they were seated at their table, Shayla tried her best not to notice the lustful looks from the waitress. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who found Romeo attractive.
He looked handsome and flashy in a blue camouflage Versace shirt, white jeans, and spiked blue sneakers with the bloody bottoms. Draped around his neck was a sparkling gold Mercedes chain.
Shayla was more than curious to know what he did for a living; but felt it was too early to ask. Maybe he’ll tell me when he thinks the time is right.
Shayla damn near lost her appetite when Romeo shot the young waitress an innocent wink. I am so not used to this type of guy, she thought to herself. Romeo was an open flirt, and she’d always been the jealous type. I don’t know how this could ever work.
Relax, Shayla scolded herself. We’re just on a date. It’s not like the man asked me to walk down the aisle. Stop thinking about what could go wrong, and start thinking about what could go right. Besides, he’s not my man.
“Can I get you two started with some drinks? Our featured wine today is the Markham Merlot. Its bright cherry and blueberry flavors are meld with plump tannins. I can promise you, it’s very sweet to the taste,” she said, looking specifically at Romeo.
“I bet it is,” he said. “We’ll take two of those…and make one of ‘em extra light,” Romeo added, giving Shayla the side eye.
Shayla’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. She could only imagine how foolish she must’ve looked tipsy last night.
After the waitress scribbled down their beverages and walked off, Romeo decided to make light conversation.
“So…Am I winning you over yet, Miss Shayla?”
Smiling, she looked down at her manicured hands. “I don’t know. It’s only day two...and you started off kinda rocky.”
Romeo leaned forward and interlocked his fingers. His stare was so intense that it made Shayla too nervous to keep eye contact. “You don’t know. Really?” he chuckled. “Come on now. Cut ya boy some slack.”
“I mean, you seem like a nice guy and all…Bu
t I can tell you’re used to a different breed,” Shayla explained. “You don’t have to try so hard with me, Romeo. And you certainly don’t have to go out your way financially.”
“Is that right?”
“Up until recently, I’ve always been pretty independent.”
Romeo was shocked by her humbleness. Most females he fucked with loved the spoiled treatment whereas Shayla was too proud to accept it.
“And what changed that?” Romeo asked, suddenly peaked by her life.
Shayla hesitated for a second. “Truthfully…a breakup…”
“Damn…I’m sorry to hear that,” Romeo told her. “But I kinda figured.”
Shayla’s perfectly arched brows rose in surprise. “How so?” she asked curiously.
“I don’t know. I just notice lil’ shit about you,” he said. “You lowkey uptight. And you quick to snap on a nigga at da drop of a dime. It’s obvious some mufucka left a bad taste in ya mouth.”
“I didn’t snap on you when you were eye-humping the waitress,” she challenged.
Romeo scoffed and shook his head in amusement. Shayla was feistier than he imagined, but that only made shit more interesting.
“I’ll take you bein’ jealous as a good sign,” he smiled, reaching for her hand. All of a sudden, he noticed the dark purplish bruise on her forearm and became alarmed. “How dat happen?”
Shayla quickly covered the bruise with her hand, too embarrassed to tell him the truth. “It’s nothing. Really...”
There was a short period of silence between them before Romeo spoke. “Look, I know we just met each other and shit, but if I’ma fuck with you, I need you to be a hunnid wit’ me,” he said. “Lemme know if I gotta check a nigga.”
Where Romeo was from, niggas who put their hands on women were treated like the bitches they were. And now that he was digging Shayla, he refused to let anyone hurt her.
“My ex…Dexter,” she began. “We had an exchange of words, he got a little physical—but it was nothing serious.”