Loyal to His Lies

by T. C. Littles

  Damn, I wish I could be so carefree and reckless and just up and leave this hood and all its bullshit, I thought as I went into the other room and pulled out my clothes for the night. “Will you be ready by the time I get out the shower?” I yelled out to Melanie.

  “That must’ve been some good dick.” She sucked her teeth, not even answering my question.

  “How you figure I was out having sex?”

  “Look who you are talking to first. Second, your hair looks like you’ve been broke and on the corner all day in a windstorm,” she cleverly observed.

  I snickered at her comment after taking a quick look in the mirror. I hadn’t even noticed I was messy as hell. “Well, yeah, it was worth it, since you so nosy!”

  “So, if you’re pissed at Nardo, who’s doing the dipping?” She rolled over, fully diverting her attention from the television. “Who blew yo’ wig back?”

  I’d been so caught up in the money and life without eviction notices and broke-down hoop rides that I had forgotten about having real friendships. Mel was so chill and was acting like we were back in middle school, laughing and joking about a little crush we had. The shit was mad relaxing, low key. For months Kimmie was the only person I had kicked it with about my problems, and she was a foreign chick, so she really couldn’t connect to the mess I was going through. She was just faking the funk.

  “Earth to Zaria . . . Hello!” Melanie screamed, bringing me out of my daydream.

  “Oh, dang gee, I was just caught up in my thoughts.”

  “On what?”

  “I would tell you something, but you might trip.”

  “What is it, girl? Tell me! Tell me!” Melanie sat up in the bed and started crunching on an overpriced bag of potato chips.

  “All right then, but calm the hell down!”

  Okay, okay, okay!” Melanie was eager for me to confide in her. “Tell me, girl. I’m listening.”

  “Well,” I slowly started off, swallowing a lump in my throat, “me and Izzi been messing around.”

  “Get the fuck out of here! You mean to tell me that you’re letting Nardo’s right hand get all up in it?” She leaped to her feet spilling chips on the carpet. “You nuts!”

  “Oh, so are you the judge-a-ho police now?”

  Naw, I’m not judging you. Guess if you fuck over your best friend, then you’ll fuck over your mans with his best friend.”

  Melanie was being sarcastic as hell, making me regret dropping my guard and telling her my damn business. But I guess I got caught up in the moment of having a “friend.”

  “Yeah, well, I guess I would.” I rolled my eyes, annoyed that we had to keep getting back on that subject.

  “So, what are we about to get into?” She sensed I was pissed. “I’m ready to hang.”

  “Some revenge, so dress down,” I growled, walking into the bathroom and shutting the door.

  I called the babysitter to check in, making sure all was well with Cidney, and then I got naked and stepped into the hot shower. The water ran down my back, and I began to feel somewhat relaxed. I meditated on everything that was going on with me. Reality hit hard. I was ashamed of myself. I’d lost control over my life. If my mother ever found out about all the things I’d done this past week and all her rules I’d broken, she’d disown me for certain.

  Get it together! Get it together!

  I let myself cry to get out some of my anger and frustration. The need to ball up in the corner of the shower and die was tempting, but I couldn’t lose my mind just yet, I had business to take care of.

  “Zaria, you all right in there?” Melanie tapped on the door, acting as if she truly gave a rat’s ass about my well-being.

  “Yeah, I’m cool. Give me a minute and I’ll be out in a few.”

  As I was drying off, I began to rub my stomach. There was a little life growing inside of me, and I had the audacity to despise its very existence. Nardo had fucked me over so much that I didn’t have any emotion over this pregnancy, which is supposed to be the happiest time in a woman’s life. As for my daughter, I was even short-changing her. What was happening? Cidney was not close to getting the mother she deserved, and Nardo’s punk ass ain’t care about shit but his own self-preservation. Well, tonight I would be done with Nardo.

  I turned the flat iron on high so I could freshen up my weave and began to apply lotion all over my body. I was going to tear some stuff up later, but there was no reason for me to look like a dirtball while I was in the process of doing so.

  “You don’t have to dress in sneakers, but don’t dress like we’re going to the club either,” I hollered into the other room to Melanie. I was trying to go out in style.

  Combing my hair, I let it fall down straight to my shoulders. Walking out into the room, I saw Melanie dressed in a pair of Luxerie denim jeans and matching T-shirt, probably from some knockoff store, and some dirty shoes. She looked so below average, but hey, I couldn’t expect anything else. She was cute in her own way, I guess, but not a showstopper like me. Unfortunately, she didn’t know how to keep her appearance up, or she lacked the funds to do so. Not only were her clothes subpar, she was just plain messy. Her hair was brushed back in a regular, old-school ponytail with a filthy scrunchie, and her eyebrows looked as if they belonged to the nearest beast at the local kennel.

  “We have to make a stop before I get to my final destination,” I informed Melanie as I finished getting dressed.

  I put on a black baby doll dress that bunched up at the bottom. I had picked it up from H&M at the mall. I accessorized with silver bangles, big silver hoop earrings, and a silver necklace with a cross encrusted with diamonds. I sprayed on a little Paris Hilton and stepped in front of the mirror to make sure everything was top notch and perfect.

  “Damn, Zaria, what magazine are you trying to be in?” Melanie sounded envious as she watched me like a hawk sizing up its prey.

  “Don’t hate. Copy if need be,” I advised, laughing, but I was dead serious. “Just don’t hate.”

  “Fuck you, Zaria.” Melanie smacked her lips and pulled out her knockoff Gucci purse and put on her cheap ninety-nine-cent lip gloss and her dollar store earrings. My ex-friend had fallen off badly. Had it been any other day or any other circumstances, I wouldn’t be caught dead rolling with something of that quality. After tonight, she and I were history.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Zaria

  I came off the Lodge Freeway onto Jefferson Avenue and popped in a mix CD I’d picked up of Ashanti. I was feeling all her tracks, especially the one called “Foolish.” I noticed Melanie, who was riding shotgun, was feeling the song too. We were even singing the lines word for word.

  See my days are cold without you, but I’m hurting while I’m with you.

  Y’all know she really hit the nail on the head with that line.

  Riding past Hart Plaza, I noticed the African World Festival was on bump. There were crowds of people everywhere, enjoying the warm night air. The more I saw cars with rims and sounds, chicks trying to floss for the dudes who were bossing, and the stores filled up with alcoholics, I got angrier and extremely bitter. These people were enjoying the world, while my life reeked of sheer nothingness. As I drove, I yearned for and could almost taste revenge for my sorrows.

  I just wanna be happy.

  Restaurant lots were on jump. Part of me wanted to stop and parking-lot pimp, but I had an agenda that couldn’t be ignored. I was on a serious mission. Living with the fact that I hadn’t had been able to hold down a decent meal in days, I changed my mind to stop. I needed some nourishment if I wanted to be at full capacity to destroy Nardo’s punk ass.

  I pulled into the Wendy’s lot partly because I was hungry, but mainly because it was on bang. I decided a girl had to have a little fun and stress relief. My nerves were on edge, and butterflies were set in my stomach, as my plan would soon be put into complete, total effect. Any consequences that occurred after this night would have to be put in the hands of the Almighty God.


  “Damn, ma, come over here for a second.” A guy who was sitting in the passenger’s side of an old-school Cutlass with an out-cold, purple flip-flop paint job said, “Let me speak to you.”

  I was not trying to pay him any attention. First, he was not the driver (I know I’m a shallow bitch, but so be it!) and second, I didn’t have time for any amateur player trying to push up on me. Melanie, on the other hand, started tapping my shoulder like she was working for him.

  “Hey, Zaria, he calling you!”

  “Chill, Mel. I ain’t deaf. Is you on his payroll or what?” I kept a straight face, walking through the door at Wendy’s. Without so much as making slight eye contact, I told him, “I’m sort of in a hurry.”

  “I can dig it, so I’ll kick it with you inside,” he insisted, getting out of the car.

  Damn! This is what I get for trying to come show off—a low-budget nigga trying to talk to me. Why didn’t I just go through the drive-up window?

  I got in line to place my food order, and out the corner of my eye, I watched him approach the door. He was tall and slender in stature. His skin was dark, rich cocoa brown in color, and the brotha rocked a pair of gold wire-framed glasses. His gear was top notch, though. Flossing a cream-and-black linen shirt, black pants, and black Cole Haan shoes, he was doing his thing. Most dudes nowadays wore iced-out chains, but this guy wore a simple gold chain with a cross pendant, a nice watch, and a platinum-and-diamond pinky ring. Observing and sizing a Negro up quick was another skill my mother had schooled me on.

  Getting a closer look at the entire package when he got directly in my face, I liked what I saw. His haircut was fresh to def, and his goatee and beard had to have been lined up with a razor, because it was so crisp. His cologne undeniably had a chick like me mesmerized. I loved his scent right off rip.

  “So, what’s your rush, girl?” He grinned, showing his perfect white teeth, finally being in close enough range to have a personal conversation.

  “Sorry, sweetie, but I have errands to run and not much time to be here parlaying and letting guys hit on me.” I shot him down even though he was fine.

  “Welcome to Wendy’s. Can I take your order?” The cashier chewed her gum like a mule.

  “Yeah, let me have two five-piece nuggets and a small Pepsi.”

  “Oh, I got it, girl.” The mystery man pulled out his wallet—not a knot of money in a rubber band, but a wallet like a grown-ass man.

  “Big spender, oooooh!” Melanie disrespectfully blurted out, trying to be all up in my mix. “If you treating like that, then you could pay for me too.”

  Dang, this chick was ignorant! This guy hadn’t paid her any attention, so she just had to make her presence felt. He immediately gave Melanie’s desperate ass a twenty and told her to order her food and keep the change if any. Then he asked me politely to step to the side and reward him with a few brief seconds of my time. Even though I had a lot on my mind, after Melanie’s smart-talking ass, I felt I owed him at least that much consideration.

  Dude’s name was Erik, and he was from Indiana. From the way he carried himself, I knew he had manners. If it would’ve been any other time, I would have been all on him. I could tell he was down for some real-type cake stuff, and he obviously could tell from my demeanor what ballpark I played in—the majors!

  “All right, call me sometime, girl. Okay?” He was smooth as he finished up the conversation and started to walk toward the door. “I’ll be waiting.”

  “Thanks for the meal, sexy,” Melanie flirted as the doors were shutting behind him.

  Dang! She was so embarrassing. By the time we got to the car, Erik and his friend had pulled off.

  I just might call him. He do look good as hell, I thought to myself as I opened the barbecue sauce and dipped my first nugget.

  As I cruised up Jefferson Avenue to get to Lafayette, I finally divulged to Melanie what the plan was. Phase one, we were going to ransack Nardo’s condo and completely destroy everything that was important to him. She was, of course, all for it. After a quick stop at CVS to purchase a Green Dot card that I would use later to fill up my gas tank, I put the pedal to the floor to get to Nardo’s. Time was running out for my baby’s daddy. With the aid of Melanie riding shotgun and Izzi down at the club, that two-timing cheater would pay!

  Nardo

  Bitch, shake yo’ ass. It’s time to throw this money! USDA’s song was banging in the titty bar. Me and Izzi was in VIP, getting lap dances, both throwing back drinks like a muthafucka. I had my eye on one young thang in particular that was working the room. You could tell she was semi new to this club, because she was somewhat timid around the other regular bitches who kept griming her. Nubian Delight, as the DJ called her when she took the center stage, was a new face and a fresh new piece of pussy, so every guy wanted her. New tail, especially untainted tail, was the best tail in the stripping game.

  “Let me get two bottles of Moët,” I commanded the waitress.

  “Anything else, honey?”

  Yeah, bring me back two shots of Patrón.” Izzi glanced upward as he was getting frisky with a dancer.

  My boy was straight out his hookup tonight. He was tipping girls twenties and shit like they were going out of style. Me, there was no way I was tipping like that unless I was getting some serious head or a dripping wet dick. I just kicked back and enjoyed watching Izzi straight clown. For a brief moment, I let my mind drift back to who I had waiting back at home—Spice. When I left here, I was going to get me some true island banging. I was going to make up with her, but I had to make sure she was in check. I’d let her get way too far out of pocket; that was my fuck-up, but bet money you wouldn’t catch me slipping twice.

  “Wanna dance?” Nubian Delight licked her lips eagerly as she approached me after coming down off the stage. “I peeped you watching me.”

  Baby doll was a coffee brown goddess with a dime-piece centerfold body that was slamming. Her wavy, long hair made her look like a mermaid, and with firm breasts and a plump behind, her appearance was perfect. She had on a peach one-piece dress thrown over her shoulder and a matching G-string on her ass. Ol’ girl looked mad sexy.

  “Get on that, cuzzo, and tip the bitch good,” Izzi shouted out over the loud music, not caring if he disrespected the female.

  She seemed to go unfazed by his remarks, because she didn’t even blink. She must’ve been used to that type of talk. Moving closer to me as sounds of Genuwine’s song “Anxious” filled the club, she rubbed on her breasts. “If you like the dance, then maybe you’ll want more of this.” She seductively licked my ear as she climbed on my lap and slowly started to grind to the beat. “You know you wanna release that big monster growing in your pants. don’t you?”

  I liked her forward style. Her moves had me on rise and ready to take things to the next level. Unlike other dances I got, copping feels seemed to excite her even more.

  “Take her freak ass into the back and show her how real Linwood boys do,” Izzi flossed, handing me two hundred-dollar bills.

  Ol’ girl didn’t even wait for me to take the money from Izzi. Instead, she snatched it out of his hands and told me to show her what he was talking about. I could tell she enjoyed the hell outta her job.

  Izzi winked his eye at her, and she blew him a kiss.

  Damn, she’s a tramp!

  As she stood up, her breasts were standing at full attention. Not bothering to cover herself while we were walking to the Black Hole, as it was nicknamed, she just smiled.

  “You must don’t know who you about to fuck with, li’l momma,” I warned her as we got into one of the private rooms.

  “A Linwood cat, I assume,” my soon-to-be private dancer replied, getting smart.

  “You got a lot of mouth.” I barely spoke before she pushed me back on the couch.

  “Yeah, I’ve been told that, but I know how to back up everything I say. And real talk, my mouth won’t get me into no type of trouble I can’t get out of.” She sucked my fingers slyly, letting me kn
ow she was down for the whole nine. “Matter of fact, I’m tired of talking.”

  “Well, maybe you should put something in that mouth of yours.”

  “Yeah, you right.” Nubian Delight stuck her tongue out so I could see the glowing ring that pierced the center.

  “Damn, it’s like that, huh?”

  “Yeah, it is, daddy. There’s no dry run here.”

  “Well, put my dick where your mouth is!” In other words, I was also tired of the talk. I wanted action.

  She dropped down on her knees and started doing her thang. I knew she would be wild, but ooooh-weee she was off the hook!

  Suck this big, black dick, ya nasty bitch! Suck it! Suck it!

  Every time I thought the show was over, she was back on me, and I never turned down pussy or head. I had to have banged the trick three or four good times before I walked out of that private room, not even knowing her government-issued name. Despite what you heard, there is definitely sex in the champagne room, especially if enough dough is involved.

  Spice

  I pulled up to Zaria’s little upscale suburban home and went to ring the doorbell. No one came to the door, and there was no vehicle in the driveway. Walking back to my car, I called Renard, and of course, no big surprise, there was no answer from him. I was irritated that I was forced to leave another message. It was probably the tenth or eleventh one that hour.

  “I’m at Zaria’s house, so I guess when you pull up, I’ll see you. I’m tired of the game, Renard. This is the final play!” I hung up, pissed off.

  Combing my freshly done braids, I gathered them with my hands into a ponytail. I wrapped a scarf around my head, greased up my face, and began to relax. I soon reclined my chair and turned Alicia Keys’ Songs in A Minor on low, so as not to wake my son, who was fast asleep in the rear seat, as I meditated.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Zaria

  Nardo stayed in a quiet subdivision of condos. He often bragged that he’d been staying over there for years without incident. Not one of his well-to-do neighbors ever questioned how he dressed and drove so flossy and never seemed to go to work. I rarely visited this place. Nardo claimed this was his place of absolute solitude, where he could go to escape the drama of the streets, so we were always at my crib.