Seems Like You're Ready: BWWM Romance

by Heather Rae

  When dusk took over, they were joined by the males tryna get their hustle on; the nickel baggers and the low-key playas just doin’ what they gotta to survive day to day. J-Dub had the best weed, and the cheapest. T-Boogie could get you any pill you wanted…uppers, downers, and X. Then there was B. Brandon, Dre’s older brother had connections if you wanted to go straight for the big guns. With the darkness came the sounds of the streets; sirens and shots sounded as the moon hung in the midnight sky.

  I thanked God every day that no one really knew who I was, or who my people were. If word got out that I was the daughter of the chief of police, I’d probably be found dead in a gutter somewhere early one morning. Folks in the hood didn’t take too kindly to the po-po.

  It was late, nearly one o’clock in the morning. There had been all kinds of nonsense going on outside since about noon. I had been home alone with KD since Dre had left out early that morning. I overheard kids had been getting scolded all day, their frustrated parents giving up and just cussing at them. One particular woman had gotten into three different fights with three different women. The police had been called to several apartments. There was constant door slamming, screaming and yelling, barking dogs, and even a few domestic violence calls. Now I was listening to gunfire for the third time; I'd had enough.

  Dre had found me sitting in the scarred wooden rocker with KD sound asleep in the crook of my arm. A large mug of tea sat on the edge of the dresser and a small iridescent pearl handled pistol sat next to it. Dre paused at the doorway.

  “Baby.”

  “Do you believe two people should work together in a relationship, Dre?” I asked, voice just barely above a whisper.

  “Um, yeah.” He didn’t move and his eyes never left mine.

  “With or without you, I’m getting out of this godforsaken place. Two months tops,” I said and rose to my feet.

  I placed Kiandre into her bed, covered her with the light blanket and tucked her favorite stuffed puppy in next to her. I gave her a soft kiss then turned away. I motioned for the door, grabbed my tea and pistol and left out the room.

  Dre followed me into the bedroom we shared. I set the cup on the nightstand then sank down onto the soft saggy mattress. I stared up at Dre through teary eyes.

  “All I’ve listened to today was fighting, music blaring, police sirens and now guns poppin’! I’m sick of this shit, Dre!” I swiped at the tears that fell in rivers down my cheeks.

  “I know, baby. I’m trying to put some things together.” The mattress shifted as Dre sat down next to me. “You gotta give me a little bit of time. It’s hard out there for a brotha!”

  “Yeah, I know it is. It’s hard out there for EVERY damn body. And I’m giving you time, Dre - two months. I’d rather leave out of here with you but either way, I’m getting outta HELL,” I said and sniffed. “I want to take my baby outside to play, dammit!”

  “I got you, boo…”

  Dre flashed me that bright smile, his hazel eyes warm. As his fingers slid into my messy head of curls, his mouth attempted to make me forget.

  The next morning I awoke to the delicious aroma of sausage cooking. I went downstairs to the kitchen. KD was busy with a highchair covered with cheerios while Dre was busy at the stove. He turned around and grinned.

  “Sit, baby. I have something I wanna talk to you about.”

  “It’s never a good conversation if it begins like that,” I said, but dragged the old chair out from under the small table.

  Dre plated our food, fixed me a cup of tea and served up a pretty delicious breakfast. Sausage, cheese grits, scrambled eggs, toast, and a short stack of pancakes we shared. Kiandre took turns sampling from us, ignoring her Os.

  “So, you know I’ve been talking with B about some things.” Dre said as he dug into his eggs.

  “Dre!”

  My fork clattered on the table top. Oh hell no. This was definitely what I had in mind. It was not the route I wanted Dre to take. This could only be bad.

  “Listen to me, baby, it isn’t what you’re thinking.”

  “Anything mentioned with your brother’s name is trouble, Dre. You know it and so do I.” I reached for me tea.

  “He has a job lined up for me. It doesn’t require much when you think about it; I just gotta make a drive,” Dre shrugged.

  “Say what? Say who? And you’re okay with this?! Really?!” My face showed nothing but surprise.

  I could tell though that Dre was 100% serious about working with his brother. Everything in me screamed that this was a bad idea and no good could come of it. But at the same time, I was desperate to get out of Hell’s Hood. I kept telling my brain this was only for a short time. Brandon was giving Dre an opportunity to make some quick money to benefit the family.

  I didn’t want to know the details, and when Dre tried to give me an in-depth explanation, I wanted no parts of it. I threw my hand up in his face.

  “Don’t tell me shit, Dre!”

  “I just want you to understand, Nikkia!”

  “I don’t want to understand! I don’t want to know!” I shouted then glanced at our daughter. “Kiandre deserves better, Dre.”

  “I know she does, and so do you! That’s the only reason why I said I’d do this!”

  I shook my head at him sadly. It was clear to me that he had already made his mind up; talking about it with me was just an afterthought. I finished up my breakfast then began to clean up the dishes.

  “I’ll do them, baby. Why don’t you just fix another cup of tea and relax?” he suggested.

  “Fine. I’ll just go bathe KD.”

  I scooped her out of the highchair, Cheerios scattering across the linoleum floor. I ignored them as I toted her up the stairs. I sat on the toilet while the tub filled and stripped off the pink pajamas covered in tiny hearts. I refused to cry. No, not gonna do it. I was built tough. Two months was plenty of time to figure things out.

  Dre was going to be out of town with Brandon for three days. When he had attempted to tell me where they were going, I stopped him before the words escaped his lips. I kissed him softly on the cheek.

  “It’s better if I don’t know. Just be careful,” I said, sending him on his way.

  The days he were gone, I did nothing but worry. I packed up Kiandre’s diaper bag, strapped her into the stroller and locked the apartment door behind me. I spent most of the day time hours at the library, losing myself and my thoughts in whatever book caught my attention. It kept my mind busy and allowed for me to focus on something other than Dre’s safety.

  Every night that he was gone I was lulled to sleep by the sounds of Hell’s Hood. The distant sirens provided the sad melody. The staccato of gunfire and cries for help was the chorus; the lyrical lullaby of the ghetto. I closed my eyes to the flashing red and blue illuminating my bedroom walls. It was then that I decided I did not care what we had to do to escape this madness.

  Dre returned safe and in one piece. I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly to me. He laughed and told me I had been worried for nothing. We peeked in on Kiandre napping in her bed, unknowing of all the terrible things surrounding her. Innocent, I thought, and willed myself not to cry.

  “Come here, I have something for you,” Dre said, tugging me from the baby’s room.

  Alone in our room, he tossed a large manila envelope on the center of the bed.

  “Take all of it. Handle whatever needs to be handled,” he said and went to stand at the windows.

  “Dre.” I spoke his name as I sank down on the mattress.

  “I did a lot of thinking, Nikkia, and you were right. My girls deserve better.” He glanced over his shoulder at me, his hazel eyes cloudy. “We ain’t gotta talk about it, but know that I promise I’m going to get y’all outta here.”

  “Okay, Dre.”

  “Four G’s are there. I’m sure you can make some things happen with that.”

  “Yeah, I can work well with it,” I answered.

  “When I disappear for a few day
s…” his voice trailed off as he looked back out the windows.

  A couple maybe a few years older than we were, was in the midst of an argument. The young woman was screaming accusations at the male and he responded by punching her so hard she ended up on the pavement. Dre shook his head and turned back to me.

  “Everything I do, I do it for you and Kiandre.”

  “Okay, Dre,” I sighed. “Come here, baby.”

  He sat down on the edge of the bed. His shoulders slumped forward as if they were burdened by the weight of the world. I guess they were in a sense. I scooted closer to him and began to knead the tight muscles.

  “I love you, Dre.”

  “I love you too, baby. Just a few times until we get right, I promise.”

  Right. Just a few. But it didn’t stop. Not even when we moved from Hell’s Hood and into the small 3 bedroom starter home over on Euclid Avenue. I had come across the ad in the Sunday paper the week after Dre’s first run. It was a charming little stone house just outside the city and walking distance to a big shopping plaza. Not only was it cheap at $400 a month, but is also had a great yard that Kiandre could play in. I used half the money to pay for a few months ahead, not knowing where our finances would lead us. In doing so, the owners were kind enough to waive background and security deposits. I felt much relief in knowing that we were able to move prior to my 2 month deadline.

  Dre’s deliveries became more frequent. While it bothered me, I had no qualms in taking half the money. I saved the majority of it, always keeping the thought in my head that one never knew what could happen. I didn’t want to instigate arguments with Dre, I really didn’t; but he didn’t seem to want to stop.

  “Dre, enough is enough already!”

  “Nikkia, I need for you to worry about the damn baby and not what I’m doing! I do this shit for you!”

  “No you don’t! You do this for the thrill!”

  “Shut the hell up, Nik! You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

  But I did. The fast easy money was a bonus. It was the rush that had hooked Dre. Do a run and hope to Jesus you don’t get caught. The adrenaline, the natural high; it was thrilling and exciting.

  The drug game was a sexy bitch. She would give you a taste only to have you craving more. She would whisper seductively into your ear, offering all of your wishes and dreams before unsuspectingly poisoning you with her talons. One kiss from her lips would leave you salivating and intoxicated. Drink her nectar, experience the sweetest euphoria, and fall in love; that is what she had done to Dre. She became his mistress and I despised her for it.

  Everything in moderation, right? The thing with drugs is they tend to have this highly addictive quality to them. From the first sample tasted, it takes hold of you. Once is never enough. Where’s my fix? Gotta have more. Dre became addicted to the game, more so than if he had snorted that shit straight to his brain.

  The deliveries had us sitting pretty, but he wouldn’t stop there. I stood in the doorway of the basement, watched both in shock and awe, as he cut the brick of drugs with another subtle substance and put it to a press. He ended up flipping the finished for double what he paid; he admitted this later after I demanded answers from him. I had visions of Dre sinking deeper and deeper.

  Brandon didn’t help matters either. He wanted Dre as his right hand, and urged him to climb. He quickly went from running to manufacturing and distributing product. As the money continued to come hand over foot, Dre moved us at the end of our six-month lease. A beautiful two-story brick home which sat on an acre of lush green property was deeded to me. The large brass key felt warm in my hand as I turned it in the lock for the very first time.

  Hot tears burned my face as I stood in the tiled foyer.

  “Dre?” I choked out his name.

  “It’s all you, baby,” he grinned. “I told you one day I would give you what you deserved.”

  The evening we moved into the house, Kiandre spent the night with Sylvia. After a bottle of wine, Dre and I acted like the past few years had never taken place. We laughed, watched movies and proceeded to break our new house in…every inch of it. We both reverted back to the happy time in our lives and because we had a simple routine, I had the silly notion that everything was alright between us.

  ~~4~~

  Dre handled everything. He made sure the bills were paid, the mortgage was up to date, the lawn was neat and trim and the cars were serviced. Every Thursday he and I went into town for a spa day. We both were primped and pampered before doing a little light shopping, then on to dinner. Each month he placed a stack of bills in my hand to do whatever I wanted, in addition to grocery money. All I had to do was tend to home and Kiandre. While I loved Dre with all my heart and prayed daily he would let this bitch go, I always skimmed a little money.

  “Just in case…” I whispered as I added five one-hundred dollars bills to the banded stack, and slammed the microbiology text book closed.

  Funny thing about love is you tend to go blind; blind to the other person’s faults, and their indiscretions. You are sure of the lies, but you let it slide. Even when nights turn late and another woman’s scent is lingering on his clothing, you are hesitant to believe such a thing could happen. But for me, it was.

  More money, more problems just like the song says. And I guess more temptation thrown in your face. Unknown calls plagued my home telephone and Dre was home less and less. I woke up one morning having an epiphany of sorts; I had become dependent upon Dre. In a sense, I was a kept woman. The thought alone did not sit well with me.

  The same afternoon I ran into my mother in the grocery store. I approached her just to let her know that I thought of her daily, loved her and that she had been right. But she only stared down her nose at me, refused to acknowledge me as her child and launched into a rant on lost souls. I left behind my cart in the middle of the aisle, strode out of the automatic doors and drove home, crying all the way. Her words had hurt, burned, and left me raw...because they were true.

  As Dre’s business with Brandon continued to grow, I made several attempts to convince him to stop and get out. I used myself and Kiandre as leverage, pleading that he could lose us both. He insisted that I was being ridiculous.

  “Lighten up, Nik. Enjoy the good life. I know plenty that would love to be in your shoes right now,” he laughed as he left out with his brother.

  Yeah, I took that hit personal.

  Dre didn’t come home for three days and there were no phone calls to check in on me and the baby. I hadn’t bothered calling him, either because I knew he wouldn’t have answered. When he finally came home, I had gone beyond the point of being angry. A calm fury settled over me. I was seated on the couch, waiting.

  “Baby! Where you at?!” he bellowed as he made his way through the house.

  “I’m right here,” I answered from my perch on the extra-long couch.

  I picked up the remote to the TV and flipped it off. I reached for my mug and sipped the black tea I had brewed earlier.

  “Where’s KD?” he asked, glancing around the empty room.

  “She’s fine,” I replied, nonchalantly and shrugged. “You ain’t been worried about her or me.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Hmm…” I shrugged and sipped again. “Nothing, Dre.”

  “Dammit, I don’t need no shit from you too, Nikkia!” His voice rose.

  “Trouble in paradise with one of your hoochies, eh?” I joked, but was so serious.

  “Fuck yeah so I don’t need any from you too!!”

  The ceramic mug slipped from my hand and shattered on the hardwood floor. Tea flew everywhere as I stared at him in disbelief. I hadn’t expected Dre to admit to anything, and he was just as surprised by his confession as I.

  “Nik…”

  But I had already got to my feet and rushed out of the room. Dre had always been fast though. His hand shot out and caught a fistful of my hair at the bottom of the stairs.

 
“Stop, dammit!” he shouted and tugged on the mass of curls entwined in his fingers.

  “Dre! Let go!” I screamed as tears stung my eyes.

  “You gonna listen?” He muscled my head from front to back, refusing to relinquish his hold on me.

  “You’re hurting me, Dre!” I cried.

  “Are you gonna listen to me?” he repeated.

  I could feel his fingers tightening amidst my hair. I closed my eyes and allowed the tears to drain out as I bowed my head.

  “Yes…” I whispered.

  “I can’t hear you, Nikkia.”

  “Yes, Dre,” I spoke, voice unsteady.

  He let go of me with such force I lost my balance. As my socks held no grip to the tiled floor, I pitched forward. My forehead slammed into the last step of the staircase as I tried to catch myself.

  “I’m tired of you naggin’ me, Nikkia,” he said tightly.

  I felt his hand wrap around my upper arm. He hauled me to my feet then stepped in front of me. He stared down at me with cold eyes…they used to be so warm.

  “I’m sorry, Dre.”

  “Go clean yourself up.”

  I refrained from saying anything as I slowly climbed the stairs, dripping blood as I went. Upstairs in the luxurious bathroom I stared at my reflection, disgusted. I reached for a washcloth, ran it under the cold water then held it to the gash across my forehead. I used another to wash the blood that had covered my face.

  “Wounds to the head always bleed a lot,” Dre said from the doorway. “Here, it’s Motrin.”

  I took the four tablets from him, tossed them into my mouth like candy, than took a long drink from the glass of water he offered. I muttered a thank you but refused to look at him.

  “I’m sorry, Nikkia. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  “It’s fine, Dre,” I said and concentrated on my face. “I’m fine.”