by Shan
Passion flipped her brown weave over her shoulder and sat forward in the bed. She allowed the covers to fall and her perky nipples to show. I licked my lips and crawled over the bed to where she was sitting. Passion's bright skin was flawless.
Her full lips always looked like she had on a coating of pink lipstick and her eyes were golden like the sun.
"Oh, I guess you wanna play some more," Passion scoffed and pushed me away.
"Stop acting…" I started to kiss on Passion's nipples but was interrupted when Justice came bursting into the room.
"Aye Jamir, Erica on her way to the door," he said before his eyes dipped to Passion's chest. I took a deep breath in and quickly blew it out. Taking another pull off my cigarette, I looked over at Passion ready to slap the shit out of her.
"Fuck is you still sitting there for?" I questioned. The tone of my voice caused her to quickly jump out of bed and grab her clothing. I immediately went to straightening up Passion's side of the bed, and then rushed to put my clothes on.
Ding dong! Ding dong!
"Shit! I knew I should've never brought your ass here," I cussed and quickly finished the buttons on my shirt. After grabbing a hold of Passion's arm, I yanked her out of the room and pushed her down the hall and said, "Go in that nigga's room man until I tell you to come out."
I went down the stairs two at a time and unlocked the door to let Erica in. Once I pulled the door open, I was face-to-face with my pregnant girlfriend of the last six years. Streaks of tears stained her face and her lip twitched before she spoke.
"What's wrong? The baby okay?" I asked and went to touch her stomach.
"The baby is fine Jamir. Somebody killed my brother last night, DeAngelo is dead," she cried. Erica gripped her bulging stomach and fell forward. I caught her in my arms and looked around before pulling her into the house and closing the door.
DeAngelo was Erica's younger brother; her only brother. He was also in the game and working for a cat named Imran over on the west side where they were from.
"What happened E? Who told you he was dead?" I inquired. I grabbed my brother's cigarettes from the table and pulled one from the pack.
"The police; they came to the house this morning and told Mommy he was dead. They found him in a dumpster...a bum found him in the dumpster. They said he was shot six times," she wailed. "Somebody shot him six times! He would never hurt a soul Jamir! Never!"
"I know baby, it's gonna be okay," I said wrapping my arms around her. "Don't worry; I'ma find out what's going on and I'll handle it, a’ight?"
"Jamir, he never hurt nobody!" Erica repeated.
As I was consoling Erica, I caught a glimpse of Justice and Passion standing at the top of the stairs. I waved them away and continued comforting Erica. She was my heart. I’d met her when I was seventeen, she was just fifteen and still in high school. Erica was what you called a good girl.
Never got into any trouble, always got good grades, and walked a straight line. She made a nigga wait a whole year before she had sex with me and even then I had to promise she would be my wife one day.
Everything about Erica was perfect. She cared about me strong and had my back through whatever. Although, I wasn't educated and had to drop out to take care of me and Justice, it never bothered her. She was sure to teach me whatever she could, I took it in and never forgot it. We've had our ups and downs and problems which most couples go through.
Passion had been the biggest problem yet.
Passion was everything that E wasn't. She was adventurous, grimy, and didn't mind taking risk for a nigga. I could roll up a blunt, get my drank on, and fuck with Passion all muthafuckin' day. She was more like a home girl slash lover and I loved spending time with her. But at the end of the day, I wasn't stupid. E was the wifey type and Passion was just a wave that I was currently riding.
When the moment was right, I took E upstairs, got her comfortable in bed, and then got Passion up out of my house.
10 ROZALYN
The moment Tamar was arrested, I went back to the hotel, packed our things, and then got the boys. I had to take a flight back to Houston to pick up Trina and Tamarion, and then board another flight to Miami. I was worn the hell out but needed to be around family. I also needed somebody to help me with the kids while I figured out what was going on.
Couldn't believe that Tamar had been arrested for murder. For some dude named Ray-Ray at that. I ran through every Ray-Ray I knew of out of Atlanta and couldn't think of who the hell he was. I wasn't with Tamar twenty-four seven but I knew about the majority of his beefs. After pulling into the lot of Club Revolver, I hurriedly jumped out of the car and went inside.
Taron was usually here a few hours before the club opened going through the books and making sure everything was setup for the night. Once I got inside, a few people were walking around working, but there were no signs of Taron. I went to the back of the club where his office was located and walked straight in.
"Oh shit! I am so sorry," I said bringing my hand over my eyes and turning to walk out. I stood outside the door and paced back and forth until Taron finally gave me the okay to enter. "I've been calling and calling you. Are you ignoring my calls for some reason?"
I ignored Latoya who stood in the corner of the room, pressing out her dress with her hands. I wasn't one to judge because I’d done some bullshit of my own. However, I thought their little rendezvous was a one-time thing. If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I probably would've never believed it was still going on.
"Why would I be ignoring your calls, lil' sis? What are you doing here anyway?" Taron asked and cleared his throat obviously embarrassed that I’d caught him cheating on his fiancé.
"You tell me. I've been calling since this morning. Tae was arrested yesterday...I called Larry and he's gonna get right on it but you need to go to Atlanta and get him out."
"Atlanta? What the hell was he doing in Atlanta? He was just here and..."
"Never mind all that. Can you go get my husband please?" I rolled my eyes and started to walk out but turned back around; "Do you have a spare key to the house?"
"To whose house?"
"To my house-well to Tamar’s house?" this time I cleared my throat. "Tamar asked me to go by and check on a few things and since I no longer live there, I don't have a key."
Taron reached into his desk and pulled out a set of keys. A few seconds later, he pulled a key off the ring and handed it to me.
"Thanks bro," I smiled and walked away. As I made it halfway through the club, I heard someone calling after me. I turned around to see Latoya coming in my direction. Stopping in my tracks, I waited for her to reach me.
"Hey, I just wanted to holla at you real quick," Toya said with a friendly smile. I nodded my head and waited for her to speak. It had been a minute since the last time we talked and honestly I missed our relationship. I had no friends and Toya used to be one of the most important people in my life.
"What's up girl? Looking good,” I said.
"So are you. I heard about what happened and I don't know if anyone delivered any of my messages but I'm glad you're okay."
"Thank you. I'm doing a lot better than I was a few months ago."
"Good. I wanted to see if we could have lunch or something. Catch up. I miss ya’ girl."
"Yeah we can do that. I miss you too."
Toya and I exchanged numbers then I left out heading to my next order of business. I had to see for myself if Tamar had really put the house up for sale or if he'd just been telling me that. I had a life here in Miami before I was forcefully dragged to Houston. My own house, my own salon, and hell my independence.
I was glad that Tamar and I were working through things but I didn't want to give up everything. Giving up my home was completely understandable but not my shop and not the education that I worked so hard for.
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It took about twenty minutes to make it to the house. Seeing the big ass FOR SALE sign on the gate confirmed all I needed to know, but it didn't stop me from going down the long driveway and going inside. Shockingly, the entire house was empty. Everything was gone. It looked as if no one had ever lived there and the emptiness of it completely broke my heart.
I didn't want to leave Miami. What about my shop and everything I’ve built here? I sat in the middle of the floor, of what used to be the living room, and sulked.
"The wife of a hustler." I scoffed.
I wanted to break down and cry but knew my tears wouldn’t accomplish anything. For some reason, it seemed I was always the one making the sacrifices. Constantly, giving in to appease my relationship but what about what I wanted? I just wanted something to call my own and not feel like I had to rely on my husband for everything.
I was too smart to sit around and look cute all day. Yes, I have kids to take care of but I wanted to do more.
Just as I was about to leave and go back to the kids, my phone rang. The number had an Atlanta area code. I was hoping it was Tamar so I quickly answered.
"Hello," I said into the receiver.
"Hi. Can I speak with Rozalyn Andrews?" the caller asked.
"Yes, this is she."
"This is Deanna with DNA Diagnostics, you asked that we call you when the results of your lab work came in."
"Oh yes," surprised the results were in so quickly, I lifted a brow.
"Based on the DNA analysis, the alleged father, Jamison Bennett has been excluded as the biological father of the child Zyir Andrews because they do not share the same genetic markers…"
"Wait a minute…this can't be right! How…are you sure that, that is correct?" I asked in complete denial.
It wasn't that I wanted J.B. to be the father of my child, but if it wasn't him then who the hell do my twins belong to? This shit just couldn't be right. I thought as I hung the phone up without waiting for anything further.
11 TARON
"Look man, I said I would have it to you by the end of the week. Stop fuckin' calling me!" I yelled into the receiver before ending the call. I tossed the cell into the middle console and pulled out a pack of Newport’s while waiting on Tamar to be released from police custody. As soon as Rozalyn gave me the news that he'd been locked up, I booked the next flight out of Miami to the ATL.
It was good to get away from all the drama that had been surrounding me lately. Dealing with Journey's alcoholism and Toya's eagerness to make me all hers was really fucking with me mentally. I rocked a certain way before I was locked up; but since getting out, doing right, and having a family was important to me.
It pained me to see the woman I loved unable to bare my kids, but that was life and I was willing to accept it. She didn't have to drink herself to death and the fact that she was doing so had me turning to another woman.
I watched as Tamar walked out of the police station looking as if he'd just weathered a hell of a storm. His clothes were disheveled and his facial hairs had grown out. I unlocked the doors to the rental, lit my cigarette, and took a couple of puffs. The vibration from my phone caused me to become a little more frustrated than I already was.
I snatched the phone out of the console and viewed the text message.
Pay up or else!
I shook my head and tossed the phone back inside the console just before Tamar entered the car. He released a huge sigh and immediately reached for one of the cancer sticks.
After placing the car in drive, I pulled away from the station and allowed a few minutes to go by before I broke the silence between us.
"Is everything good or what lil’ bruh?" I asked and flicked the remains of my square out the window.
"They let me out, didn't they?" Tamar replied with frustration.
He lit up his square and stared out of the dimly tinted window. I hated that cigarettes had become a part of our everyday struggle. Imagine that.
"Don't get no attitude with me, my nigga. I just flew all the way out here to get you out."
"Man, whatever...let me see your phone, so I can call my wife please. Muthafuckas claimed my shit got lost."
I reached in the console, took my phone out, and handed it to Tamar. I didn’t know if I should approach him about the situation I’d gotten myself into or if I should just handle the shit on my own. I called myself making what I thought would be a good investment to bring my girl and me some sure-fire money.
Regrettably, things turned out badly and now I was in the hole for a quarter million dollars. I don’t have that kind of money just lying around. After paying for all the fertility drugs and doctors, I was pretty much broke besides the lil’ bit in my savings. Of course, I knew I could get the money from Tamar but I hated to ask him to do for me.
He’d already set me up pretty nicely when I got home from prison and ensured I was making a good amount of change from the club so I’d never have to want for anything. Going to him and asking for that kind of money would raise all kinds of questions that I wasn’t prepared to answer.
One thing was for certain though, I only had a few days to come up with it or get myself another extension. I know for a fact if I don’t produce something, the outcome won’t be pretty and Tamar will be involved whether I wanted him to be or not.
“Rozalyn, what the fuck are you doing in Miami?” Tamar asked breaking my thoughts. He puffed the cigarette a little harder than the first time and his jaw muscles tensed up with anger. The day Rozalyn walked into my office like she owned the place, I knew she wasn’t supposed to be there.
But she’s a grown woman and that was none of my business. “Aye, all you had to do was call him and tell him what was going on! I asked you to stay out of Miami; and you take my fuckin’ kids out there!” Tamar yelled.
I tried to block out their conversation and focus on my own life when Tamar pointed for me to take a right at the light. I looked down at the clock in the car and then over at him with confusion written smugly across my face. We didn’t have much time before our plane would be departing back to Miami and I wasn’t trying to miss that.
I needed to get back to the club as soon as possible, plan as many big shows as I could, and gather what little money I had left in my savings. Missing the plane would only delay me further and I couldn’t afford that.
“Yo’! Where we going?” I asked, but Tamar continued his conversation with Rozalyn and directed me to take another right.
I did as I was instructed, used my right hand to grab the package of Newport’s, and took one from the pack. My nerves were bad especially when Tamar pulled my phone away from his ear, looked at it, and then told Rozalyn he would call her back.
“Somebody blowing you up, bruh, and they just sent a text message talking about you dead. What the fuck going on?” Tamar asked and tried to go through my phone but I quickly snatched it from his hand and placed it on the side of me where it was out of reach. I straightened the car up and then lit my cigarette.
“Just tell me where we going. The plane departs in two hours,” I said irritably.
“What the hell is that all about, Ron? Niggas threatening your life-over what?” Tamar asked persistently.
“Man that’s just Journey them folk acting stupid because of a fight we had. Once I get back to Miami, I’ll handle it,” I lied.
“You sure? Niggas talking ‘bout you dead-you know I don’t take kindly to threats.”
“Yeah bruh, I know, but it’s cool. We going through some things, and she likes to get a little dramatic after arguments and shit, so ain’t no telling what she told them.”
Tamar shook his head, directed for me to take a left into a neighborhood, and then he had me pull down to the end of the street before he got out of the car and headed up the sidewalk of a house. He looked around a few times before he knoc
ked on the door. There was a brief delay before someone came to the door, handed Tamar a bag, and closed the door just as quickly as they opened it.
Tamar looked down to check the contents of the bag then came back to the car. I knew he wasn’t foolish enough to carry any type of drugs or paraphernalia onto the plane, but I was more than curious as to what was in the bag.
“What’s in the bag?” I asked, but was not given an answer. I swear sometimes I felt like I was the younger brother rather than the older one. At one point, Tamar used to look up to me with the utmost respect and treated me as if I were his father. I guess doing all that time in prison combined with his position in the streets has completely changed that.
I loved my little brother with everything in me but it was evident the streets had played a huge role in making his heart cold and unbreakable. He didn’t fear anyone, showed no love where he felt it wasn’t deserved, and would kill a nigga in a heartbeat-even his own damn family.
That was why I couldn’t mention the bind I’d gotten myself into unless I was prepared to answer all the questions that came with it and also possibly be looked at as a traitor.
“Yo! Turn down this street right here and pull over at the last house on the left,” Tamar instructed. He pulled a pistol out of the bag followed by a sharp knife and a couple of stacks of cash.
“Man, what the hell you about to do?” I pulled in front of the house. Tamar looked at me with an evil smirk written across his face. He grabbed a hoodie from the bag, placed it over his body, and then pulled the hood firmly over his head before he stepped out of the car.
I watched as he cocked the pistol, placed it in the back of his pants, and headed up the sidewalk with the knife lingering by his side. I halfway knew what to expect, but didn’t know if I should turn my head and pretend as if I didn’t see anything or if I should get out of the car and try to talk some sense into him.
It was the middle of the day. There were cars filed up and the down the street; I’m sure somebody’s nosey ass was peeking out of their window, eager to see what was about to happen. I decided to pull the car forward and turn it around, so Tamar could easily get in. Just as I made the u-turn in the middle of the road, I looked up and saw J.B. being stabbed numerous times by Tamar in the middle of the damn doorway.