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Crazy in Love 2

Page 26

by Yoshe


  Now Tuki was really stressed out.

  “That bitch!” she screamed.

  All of a sudden, Tuki flew into a rage and began trashing her luxury pad. She threw several wine glasses and plates onto the floor of the kitchen, flung her pricey Basquiat portraits and other expensive artifacts all over the living room. She even wrecked her walk-in closet that was filled with clothing, shoes, and bags.

  Shortly after her tantrum, Tuki managed to calm herself down. But she still felt like a fool for being so naïve and gullible. Ever since Professor Sterling broke her heart in college, she always seemed to fall for the same type of women: the bisexual, experimental type of woman who’s looking to “explore” new things. She was nothing but some science project to them and her bad choices in lovers were becoming a little too much for her to bear.

  Minutes later, Tuki walked through her condo to inspect the damage she had done. She took a deep breath and slowly started cleaning up the mess. But as she was cleaning up the broken glass, Tuki began feeling down. She needed something to minimize the pain of what she was feeling emotionally. Physical pain was her only savior.

  Tuki walked over to the knife block on the counter and pulled out a small paring knife. She stared at it for a few seconds and began slowly cutting into her left forearm with it. Tuki closed her eyes and concentrated on the pain. The sight of her blood running down her arm and dripping onto the white tiled floor made her cry.

  Then Tuki took the knife and cut deep into both of her wrists. Not too long after that, she sat on the floor of her kitchen and leaned against the cabinets. Tuki felt herself losing consciousness, as she bled out from her wrists. Tuki lay down on the cold floor and closed her eyes and just like that, she was out like a light.

  Fortunately for Tuki, one of her neighbors had overheard her screaming and trashing the place earlier. Thinking it was a domestic dispute between two people, they had taken the liberty of calling 911. Two officers from the Atlanta Police Department were standing outside in the hallway and banging on her door.

  “Miss Charles!” one of the officers yelled. “Miss Charles, open the door! It’s the police!”

  When the officers didn’t get a response, the building maintenance was called. He came upstairs and produced the spare key for Tuki’s place. When the worker opened the door, the police officers slowly walked inside with their guns drawn. While one of the officers checked both of the bedrooms, his partner walked into the living room and toward the kitchen, almost stumbling over Tuki’s motionless body. There she was, lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood.

  “Hey, Brody!” the officer called out to his partner. “In here!”

  Brody ran into the kitchen and looked down. It had only been exactly three minutes after the suicide attempt and fresh blood was still seeping from Tuki’s slit wrists. He shook his head and immediately pulled out his radio.

  “Sector 19,” he said. When the operator answered, he proceeded with the information. “We need an ambulance at 405 Peachtree Street, loft 10F! Hurry!”

  In Brooklyn, the half-naked India walked into her living room with a big smile on her face. She was still on cloud nine, after spending a wonderful evening with Kane. She was happy that they were able to put some things into perspective and hopefully, their relationship was now going to go in a different direction. As India made herself a cup of coffee, she began daydreaming about her and Kane’s future. She wanted the type of love that her sister, Asia, had with Rasheed: an unconditional, unequivocal love that no one could touch. India had spent most of her life looking for someone to sweep her off her feet, just as Rasheed had done with her twin.

  She knew that Kane had numerous women at his beck and call day and night and, unfortunately, she had no control over that. But she wanted to give it a try. She wanted him so bad that she could taste it and she wasn’t going to let anyone or anything stop her from getting with him. With Kane being twelve years her senior, that was a major turn on for her, as well. India was prepared to do whatever it took to show him that she was a grown woman, in every sense of the word.

  India decided to start her path to righteousness by calling her sister. There were some things that were said and done and she wanted to apologize for them. She took her fresh cup of coffee into the living room and picked up her cordless house phone to call Asia. She was disappointed when the call went to the voice mail.

  “Hey, Asia,” India said. “Um, listen, I know that me and you kinda left things off on a bad note and I wanted to know if—”

  Suddenly, her phone beeped. When she answered the other line, it was Asia. “What’s up, India?” Asia said, in a dismissive tone. “You just called me?”

  India swallowed, trying to find the right words to say to her twin. “Yeah, I called you.” There was brief pause. “Look, Asia, I apologize for all of the drama that I caused over the years, man. I know that I haven’t been the best sister in the world.”

  “Before you give me this speech, India, I was on the phone with Mommy right before you called.”

  India frowned. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s real funny that you asked that, India, ’cause no, everything ain’t okay.”

  “What do you mean everything ain’t okay? What’s wrong? Is Mommy sick?”

  “No, Mommy ain’t no sick!” the irritated Asia yelled into the phone. “But Tuki is! She tried to take her life this morning!”

  India almost dropped the phone. “What do you mean? She tried to kill herself?”

  “Yes, she tried to kill herself! She slit her fucking wrists, India! And you know why? It was over Sean’s wife, Milan! Tuki told her father that she was in love with Milan and that she was upset because the chick didn’t fly in to Atlanta that Saturday morning. When they checked Tuki’s cell phone, she had called that woman over thirty something times!”

  “Oh, my God! I didn’t know.”

  Asia interrupted her. “Oh, my God is right! And this is all because you don’t know how to mind your own damn business!” India was silent on the other end of the phone. “Messy shit like this is exactly why you and I can’t fuck with each other, India. You’re a miserable bitch and I don’t want or need you, or your evil, fucked-up ways around my unborn child!”

  “But, Asia, I didn’t mean—”

  “You didn’t mean to do what? Tuki is lying in some hospital right now, losing her mind over some . . . some bitch. And Uncle Rodney and them are talking about committing her to a psychiatric facility because of it! Apparently, this isn’t the first time she did this shit over a woman! And let’s talk about you now. You don’t get along with Rasheed. His son’s mother can’t stand your ass because you were screwing her husband. I mean, what’s next, India, huh? Whose life are you going to fuck up now?”

  India closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Whoa, Asia, you’re taking this too far! It’s not my fault that Tuki lost her mind over Sean’s wife!”

  “It is your fault! You should have never, ever let her go home with Sean! You knew what her motives were!”

  “You were there too, Asia! I didn’t see you stopping her!”

  “Because I didn’t know what was going on, dummy! I really thought that Tuki and Milan were friends! You never bothered to tell me what was going on. Rasheed was the one who had to tell me what happened with Tuki and Sean’s wife!” Asia paused. “You know what? You really ain’t shit, India, you know that? Just live your miserable-ass life and stay the fuck away from me!”

  All of sudden, the line went dead. India began to cry, as the onslaught of all the horrible things she’d done in her life hit her like a ton of bricks. The news of her cousin trying to commit suicide just let her know that she had truly crossed the line. Now her beloved twin sister wanted nothing to do with her because of it. It was definitely time for her to get her act straight.

  A half-naked Kane walked out of the bedroom, yawning and stretching. He walked over to India, who was sitting on the couch, softly weeping. Out of concern, he wrapped his ar
ms around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

  “What’s wrong, baby girl?” he asked. “I heard all of this yelling and whatnot. What’s going on in here?”

  India sniffed. “I just got news that my cousin, Tuki, who lives in Atlanta, tried to kill herself this morning.”

  “Damn!” Kane exclaimed. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Why did she try to kill herself?’

  India shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know,” she said, not wanting to explain what happened. “I just feel so bad for her.”

  Kane kissed India on the lips. “I know you do, mama. She’s gonna be okay, right?”

  India nodded her head. “I hope so.”

  “Aw, baby girl, it’s gonna be all right,” India continued to cry even harder. “Baby, baby!” he said, turning her face to his. “Look at me! What else is going on with you?”

  India ran her hand across his cheek. “I’m in love with you, Kane.”

  Kane didn’t reply to India’s declaration of love. Instead, he held her tight, as she buried her face in his chest and continued to cry some more.

  Chapter 30

  An hour later, Kane walked out of India’s apartment building and made a beeline for his parked vehicle. After comforting her, he had tried to find every excuse in the world to get out of there. Kane finally found one that worked.

  As Kane got into the driver’s seat of his vehicle, he was still thinking about what India said to him: she was in love with him. Kane laughed at that statement, as he pulled out of the parking spot. While he thought that India was physically beautiful, he wasn’t interested in committing to one woman. He was upset with himself for mistakenly assuming that Brandi, a woman his age, was going to be the one for him. But Kane quickly discovered that older women played games too. He had never been one to chase a bitch, something that he would always tell his friends. Women were more apt to chase him and it was going to stay that way until he chose to do different.

  When Kane got to the corner of India’s block, the traffic light was yellow. It was only a matter of seconds before the light turned red. Without a second thought, Kane did the unthinkable. He stepped on the gas and blew through the steady red light. As soon as Kane drove his 2011 BMW into the intersection, there was a collision. The loud sound of twisted metal echoed throughout the neighborhood, causing passersby and residents of the surrounding area to run to the corner to see where the deafening boom came from.

  In the middle of that intersection was Kane’s car, which had come to a complete stop. The driver of the sixteen-wheel tractor trailer climbed down out of the cabin and literally broke down in tears right in front of everybody.

  “He ran the red light! He ran the red light!” the driver yelled to a few nearby witnesses. “I tried to stop. Lord, have mercy on his soul!”

  The onlookers gasped at the sight of the totaled BMW. The tractor had T-boned Kane’s vehicle and it was almost split in half from the impact. And Kane hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, causing him to be ejected from the car. His bloody, mangled body was lying in the middle of the street.

  But Kane Porter was a fighter. When the paramedics arrived on the scene, he was still alive and his breathing was very shallow. He tried to say something to them but he was told not to speak. After putting the seriously injured Kane on the gurney and hoisting him into the ambulance, they quickly drove away from the scene. Police officers and firefighters were left to deal with the wrecked vehicle and a remorseful truck driver.

  Rasheed, the father-to-be, was losing his mind. Asia was in labor and he was running in and out of the bedroom, desperately looking for her overnight bag to take with her to hospital. Her contractions were only ten minutes apart, which meant one thing: their baby girl was on her way!

  As Rasheed looked for the overnight bag, he couldn’t stop thinking about being in the delivery room with Asia. He was in no hurry to see his girl’s vagina being stretched to the fullest capacity. Rasheed hadn’t even done that when Messiah, his four-year-old son, was born. But Asia would never forgive him if he wasn’t by her side, holding her hand and cajoling her during the childbirth process.

  Rasheed had to laugh at his own nervousness. Throughout the years, he had done time in prison, was involved in shootouts, and saw more dead bodies than he could count. But the thought of seeing his newborn daughter being born had him shaken. “Rasheed!” Asia called out to him from downstairs. She was sprawled on the sofa with her legs open, feeling like she was going to give birth right in their living room if Rasheed didn’t hurry. Rasheed finally found the bag, tucked in the corner of one of their bedroom closets. He shook his head at the oversight.

  “What is the bag doing in here?” he asked himself. “I’m coming now, baby!” he yelled back at Asia.

  In a matter of seconds, Rasheed was back down the stairs and in the living room, helping Asia off the sofa. It was a slight struggle, getting Asia down the steps of their brownstone and into his truck. He had offered to carry her but the frightened Asia would hear none of that. After making sure Asia was belted in the passenger seat, Rasheed climbed into the driver’s seat and they were on their way.

  As Rasheed sped down Malcolm X Boulevard, Asia chided him for driving like a maniac. “Don’t speed, Rah!” she yelled, holding on to her rotund belly. “I don’t want to fucking die!”

  Rasheed slowed down. “Okay, okay, baby, I’m so sorry,” he said, nervously. “It’s just that I wanna get you to the hospital in time.”

  Asia waved him off. “I’m gonna get there.” Suddenly, the pain of her contractions became very intense. “Oh, my God! Rasheeeeeed!” she screamed, writhing in the passenger seat of his Range Rover. “I can’t . . . I can’t make it to Methodist! It’s too far! Take . . . take me to the nearest hospital! Please, baby!”

  Rasheed was confused. “But, babe, I can’t—”

  Asia’s wailing prevented him from finishing his statement. He reluctantly made a left onto Brooklyn Avenue from Atlantic Avenue. She wanted to go to the nearest hospital and Rasheed had to oblige her request. He shook his head and reluctantly headed to the nearest emergency room.

  It was one o’clock on a Sunday afternoon when Brandi walked into Dollar’s hospital room. As she expected, he was fast asleep, doped up from the morphine that was running intravenously into his right arm. She crept over to his bed, giving him a soft kiss on the lips. When she did that, Dollar opened his eyes and looked around the room, as if he didn’t remember where he was. He smiled when he saw Brandi standing there.

  “Hey, babe,” Dollar whispered to her. “Am I happy to see you.”

  Brandi turned on the television for him. “I got your TV turned on and I brought you some fruit to snack on and some reading material,” she said, putting the items in the drawer next to his bed.

  “Aww, thank you, Bee,” he said, grabbing her hand. She bent down and gave him another kiss on the lips. “That’s my girl.”

  “Ugh!” she groaned. “I’m so glad that you’re okay, Dollar. If anything would have happened to you, boy . . .”

  Dollar quieted her. “Shhh,” he said. “Let’s not talk about what could have happened. It didn’t happen and I’m grateful to be alive. That’s because God has a purpose for me and you too, girl. If I wanna make you my wife, a dude had no choice but to fight for his life.”

  Brandi sat down in the chair. “Did you just say what I think that you said?”

  He reached for her hand. “I didn’t stutter! I said that I want you to be my wife someday, Brandi. I’ve been in love with your ass for years and now that I finally have you . . .”

  Brandi frowned. “But we just got with each other. Don’t you think that it’s too soon for you to be talking like that?”

  Dollar’s hand went to his neck. “Check this out. I’m a man who knows what he wants. I done been through the fucking trenches and now I’m a self-made man. I have my businesses, my money, and, thanks to you, I have my son back in my life. And I ain’t getting no younger, yo, and neither are you.” />
  Brandi had to agree with Dollar. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m a grandmother.”

  “Exactly! I know that you love me, Bee, but I’m in love with you. I always have been. I just want you to know that I don’t have no problem taking care of you and fulfilling your every need. But we’re going to do things right. As soon as I get better, I’m going ring shopping and you’re going to plan us a wedding. You hear me?”

  Brandi smiled. The idea of getting married always scared her, but for some reason she was ready for the plunge. Dollar seemed to be everything that she wanted in a man: he knew how to get money, he was handsome, the sex was phenomenal, and that was only half of his great qualities. Most importantly, Dollar seemed like he was a changed man. And Dollar loved the hell out of her. What more could a woman ask for?

  “Yes, I hear you, babe. I hear you loud and clear!”

  They both shared a laugh. “And another thing,” Dollar began. “We’re going to ask God for forgiveness, close those chapters from our past, and move on with our lives, okay?”

  Brandi nodded her head in agreement. “I concur.”

  Dollar told her to come closer to him. “You have always been a beautiful sister, Brandi, inside and out. All you ever needed was the right man to see that and trust me, I see all of that. I love you, baby.”

  Brandi got up from the chair and gave Dollar a warm hug. “I love you too,” she replied.

  But the hug was a little too tight. “Ow!” Dollar exclaimed. “The neck, babe! The neck!”

  “Oops, I’m sorry, baby!” Brandi said, while backing away from Dollar. They both shared another laugh.

  Chapter 31

  It was the middle of June and a clear Saturday afternoon. It was late spring and the streets of Bedford-Stuyvesant were filled with fully bloomed trees. From the looks of things, it wasn’t hard to tell that the summer season was near.

 

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