Married to a Balla

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Married to a Balla Page 15

by Jackie D.


  “The place needs some work though,” Dre said to himself.

  Seconds later, Stephanie walked up to him and eyed him up and down.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I’m Deuce’s brother,” Dre responded.

  “Deuce? Ain’t nobody around here named Deuce. How did you get in here? I’m calling the police. Don’t…”

  Before she could continue, Justice suddenly appeared in the hallway.

  His smile was as wide as Texas. “Calm down, Stephanie. He’s my brother,” Justice said. He walked up and gave Dre a strong, manly hug.

  Dre was standoffish and didn’t hug him back. He knew he shouldn’t let a bitch come between his blood, but he couldn’t believe his brother would do him like that and not even bother to mention it to him when he called from jail once a month.

  Stephanie quietly walked away when she realized everything was okay.

  “Damn bro. You look like you’ve been pumping a ton of iron in there.” Justice said as he looked at Dre. “Come on…follow me into my office.”

  Once the two walked inside, Justice closed the door behind them.

  “So, why didn’t you tell me that you were getting out? How did you get here?” Justice questioned.

  “All of that is a long story bro.”

  Justice stared at his baby brother. “That answer sounds shady. Are you into some shit already?”

  Dre shook his head. “No…not at all.”

  “I still can’t believe how much weight you’ve gained. Remember how skinny you used to be back in the day?” Justice teased.

  “Yeah, all ‘dat runnin’ and stayin’ up all night on ‘dem street corners had a nigga stressed. All that shit is behind me now though.”

  “We’ll see, lil’ bro,” Justice replied with doubt.

  “So, what kind of place is ‘dis? Some type of drug rehab?” Dre changed the subject before he went the hell off on his still negative-ass brother.

  “No, it’s a battered women’s shelter. I decided to open it in honor of our mother.”

  “That’s what’s up, Deuce. I gotta give it to you, your ass is always into somethin’. You know how to make a damn dollar,” Dre admitted. “I need to get into some legit shit like ‘dis.”

  Justice shook his head. “Don’t call me that. I don’t really go by that anymore.”

  “Since when, Nigga I been callin’ you Deuce forever. What’s the big deal now? What…you don’t gamble anymore? When’s the last time you lost all your dough in Vegas, nigga?” Dre eyed his brother’s crisp Armani sweater. “I see you still dressin’ nice.”

  Dre smiled, but Justice didn’t find anything amusing.

  “I don’t do any of that shit anymore. I took my money and opened this shelter. Speaking of the shelter, Mercedes was one of the first women to stay here. After getting the counseling she needed, she decided to take a full time position.”

  Dre figured that was probably how their affair got started. He wondered how long his brother was going to sit there before he told him he’d fucked his ex girl.

  Dre continued to listen about the shelter when suddenly a light bulb went off in his head, maybe Justice can help me find Sandino’s wife, he thought.

  “So, do you have information on all the women who check into battered shelters in the state of Georgia?” Dre questioned.

  “Yes. Actually the database I can log onto covers the entire country.”

  “Really. So, can anybody get into ‘dat database?”

  “No, not at all. Not if you don’t have a password. All the files are confidential.”

  “So, let me ask you ‘dis…has a woman named Skye Washington been here by any chance? She has long hair, green eyes and…”

  Justice quickly interrupted. “No, that name doesn’t sound familiar. Why are asking?”

  Dre shrugged his shoulders. “Just curious.”

  Justice looked at his brother a little suspicious, but decided to leave it alone.

  After talking for a few more minutes Justice asked Dre to lunch, but he declined the offer.

  “No, I got some shit to handle,” he said, realizing he had to get to work on trying to find Sandino’s wife.

  “What you gotta do, go sell some drugs and get into trouble again?”

  Dre smirked at his brother. “Thanks for the trust and positive thoughts, but I no longer sell drugs.”

  “That’s great news. I just have your best interest at heart, always have. I want you to learn from your mistakes,” Justice scolded.

  Dre got pissed off and stood up.

  “You got the nerve to try and give me some damn advice. Wit’ all the shit you did in your past. You didn’t have a problem wit’ me sellin’ drugs when I was supplyin’ your ass wit’ ‘dat money for all your gamblin’ and get rich quick schemes that never worked. You’re such a fuckin’ hypocrite. You not even man enough to tell me you been sleepin’ wit’ Mercedes!”

  Justice lowered his head. “That was a mistake. It only happened one time and I’ve felt like shit ever since.”

  “Well, that’s not what Mercedes said. I just left her house and she said y’all were in love and getting’ married. She even showed me her weddin’ dress.”

  Justice couldn’t help but laugh. “Get the fuck outta here, she told you what? Man that broad is crazy. I’m not with her. I had to fire her ass cause after that one night she’s been bugging out ever since. You really need to stay away from her… that bitch needs to be evaluated.”

  Dre couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I was tryin’ to figure out how you were gonna marry her when you’re not even divorced yet. Does Felicia know you had an affair?”

  Justice stopped smiling. He felt uncomfortable every time that name was mentioned. “Felicia and I are separated. She left me right after you got locked up.”

  “For what?”

  “We just couldn’t see eye to eye when it came to our finances,” Justice admitted.

  Dre smiled. “So, basically she left your ass because you kept losin’ all your money, right?”

  Justice smiled back. “Yeah.”

  “So, have you filed for divorce?” Dre inquired.

  “Not yet. I’m working on that though.”

  “Shit, you crazy as hell because Felicia’s ass was paid. How could you let a plastic surgeon leave you?”

  Justice shook his head. I miss that money too, he thought.

  “I just don’t understand why Mercedes would lie like ‘dat knowin’ I would find out the truth,” Dre said.

  Justice felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket. When he recognized Mercedes number he told his brother, “Here go the crazy broad calling now. Hopefully you’ll believe me after this call,” he said, putting the phone on speaker. “Hello.”

  “Justice, why the hell are you avoiding my calls?” Mercedes asked.

  “Mercedes how many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone? Stop stalking me. When are you gonna understand that I don’t want you.”

  “You don’t mean that. You’re just confused right now, that bitch has gotten in your head. We will be together!”

  “No, the hell we won’t, Mercedes.”

  “Yes, we will!”

  As Dre listened, he was convinced that Mercedes had lost it. Justice ended the call by just hanging up in her face.

  “You see what the fuck I have to deal with every day? That’s why I had to fire her ass.”

  Dre laughed. He loved Mercedes, but obviously her mental state had altered a little bit since he’d been locked up.

  “This shit ain’t funny. That’s your girl, you should’ve taken her crazy-ass with you and maybe none of this would’ve happened,” Justice joked. “But I’m sorry for stepping over the line. That shit will never happen again.”

  “Apology accepted, bros before hoes,” Dre responded.

  Dre got up, gave his brother some dap, then said he’d call him later. After walking out of the office, his eyes lit up like sunshine when he accidentally bumpe
d into the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

  “I’m so sorry,” he uttered.

  Skye smiled. “It’s okay. I’ll live.”

  “What’s your name?” Dre asked as he looked her up and down.

  Skye wondered who he was. “Uh, you don’t need to know all that,” she shot back.

  “Well, can I at least take you to dinner?”

  “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

  “Why not?” Dre hated to be so persistent, but he didn’t want a gorgeous woman like that to get away.

  “Because she’s my girl,” Justice responded as he came out of his office. He walked straight over to Skye and planted a big kiss on her lips.

  “Janelle baby, I want you to meet my brother, Dre,” Justice introduced.

  Skye extended her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

  Dre displayed an embarrassing grin. “My bad, Deuce. I had no idea.”

  Justice gave his brother a crazy look after hearing the nickname. “No problem.”

  “Well, let me get out of here. I’ll call you later, bro,” Dre said then made his way toward the door.

  Damn she was bad. I wouldn’t want Mercedes crazy-ass either if I had her, he thought just before jumping into his car.

  Chapter 21

  Sandino and Black sat in the small VIP section with the intoxicating mix of people partying at the popular hot spot, Club Lux in Miami Beach. Sandino’s boy Chris who played for his former team was celebrating his new contract, so the place was jammed packed. At the advice of his agent and lawyer, Sandino had been laying low since he got out of jail. He was starting to feel down that no teams had expressed interest in him, so after receiving the call from Chris to come hang out, he didn’t hesitate getting out of the house.

  Shooing away several thirsty, groupie bitches who wanted free drinks, Sandino reached over and grabbed the bottle of Moet Rose off the table just as the DJ played the old song Knuck If You Buck by Crime Mob. The crowd immediately started yelling. Some of the people in the cramped VIP section next to Sandino’s got a little too excited and started jumping and stumbling into his side. Sandino became pissed when one of them stepped on his five-hundred dollar Louis Vuitton loafers.

  “Watch where the fuck yo’ broke-ass steppin’, nigga,” Sandino said pushing the guy.

  “Who the fuck you calling broke?” the ice grilled dude fired back. He grabbed a wad of money out his pocket and flashed it. “You don’t even play in the league no more nigga!”

  “Get your fake ballin’ ass back on your side before I fuck you and your lil crew up!” Sandino yelled over the music.

  Feeling brave, the dude all of a sudden threw a blow that landed right on Sandino’s face. All hell broke loose after that. Chairs and bottles were being thrown as people screamed and scattered for safety. Black and Sandino were out-numbered…four against two, but you would’ve never known by the way they were rumbling. That is until one of the dudes snuck up and hit Black over the head with a bottle. Sandino turned around and tossed the dude on the floor. Before he could finish handling his business, surprisingly he looked up and saw Cruze run over and instantly start stomping the dude several times. Dazed but still standing Black watched as Sandino and Cruze took each of the dudes down.

  A few minutes later, security came over and broke the fight up. Normally when club goers started commotions, everyone got put out, but in this case only the rowdy group was escorted to the door. Because Sandino and his boys always spent tons of money they were allowed to stay. Money always talked in Miami.

  Once things calmed down, Sandino looked over at Cruze. “Damn, look what the muthafuckin’ cat drug in,” he joked.

  “What up nigga?” Cruze said, hitting Sandino on the shoulder.

  Black stood back and watched. He was jealous of how Sandino seemed to treat Cruze better than him. He wondered if Sandino had any plans to let Cruze back in the click that easy after the way he’d been missing over the past few months. He was the one who’d stayed around and had his back.

  Black walked over to hear what they were talking about.

  “What up, Black?” Cruze greeted.

  “You tell me, where the fuck you been?” Black asked.

  “I been chilling, sound like y’all nigga’s missed me or something,” Cruze replied.

  “Yeah right, nigga. Let me holla at you for a minute,” Sandino chimed in.

  The two walked away from the crowded VIP area.

  “Man, I never got a chance to apologize to you for how shit went down at that diner. You know these pills have me buggin’ out sometimes. You been my man since forever and I should’ve never disrespected you like that. That nigga Black don’t hold me down like you do, and I recognize that now,” Sandino admitted.

  Cruze wanted to say that it was cool, but it wasn’t.

  “Hopefully we can move past this. Why don’t you come back and work for me,” Sandino added.

  “Unlike some people in your crew, I’m not interested in just working for you. I’m your friend, nigga. I was there for you way before you became a fucking football player.”

  “I know man, and that’s why I’m apologizin’ once again. I fucked up.”

  Cruze looked at Sandino. He’d lost so much weight since the last time they saw each other. He also wondered if Sandino was getting soft because he’d never heard his longtime friend apologize to anyone. Not even Skye. It was just something he didn’t do. He felt sorry for Sandino even though the shit he did was still foul.

  “Apology accepted my nigga. I knew you couldn’t live without me,” Cruze joked.

  The two stood and talked for awhile until Reka, a chic Cruze was at the club with, walked up.

  “Damn Cruze, I been walking around looking for your ass. Where you been?” she asked with an attitude.

  “I’m sorry baby, go back and have a seat at the bar. I’ll be right over,” Cruze instructed. With all the commotion, he’d totally forgotten about Reka’s fine ass.

  When she walked away, Cruze and Sandino both watched her huge ass shaking in her short, BCBG freakum dress.

  “Damn, who is that?” Sandino asked, drooling from the mouth.

  “Somebody off limits to you playa,” Cruze said laughing and walking away.

  “Well, I suggest you get her outta here, cause Sandino Washington will get them draws,” he responded with a loud laugh.

  When Cruze walked away, Sandino headed back over to VIP.

  About an hour later, Cruze and Reka were drunk and having sex in one of the men’s bathroom stalls. Reka was on her knees sucking Cruze’s dick when Sandino and Black walked inside.

  “I’m glad you finally snapped out of it and decided to leave the fucking house,” Black said.

  “Yeah, I’m startin’ to lose it. Skye needs to bring her fuckin’ ass home so I can see my kids.”

  “Well, at least we know it’ll only be a matter of time before Dre finds out their whereabouts in Atlanta,” Black reassured.

  “He better,” Sandino said, walking over to one of the urinals. “Man, why every time we come to the fuckin’ club, nigga’s have to test us?”

  “Yeah, you right, but we went toe to toe with them young heads. I thought Cruze was a punk, but he came though for our ass tonight!” Black replied. “I gotta give his ass props.”

  “Fuck that nigga Cruze, especially since he wanted to go missin’ in action and didn’t even bother to come see me while I was locked up. That’s why his dumb-ass fell for that apology. I’m gonna use his ass until I know for sure that nigga is loyal again. As a matter of fact, if Dre doesn’t do a good job, I might send his ass to Atlanta, too.”

  “Yeah that was foul how he just up and disappeared on you like that that. He knew you were going through some shit,” Black co-signed as usual.

  Cruze stood in the stall listening to Sandino shit on him once again. He waited for them to exit the bathroom then pushed Reka off him and zipped up his pants.

  I’m going to show Sandino’s ass wha
t loyalty is really about, Cruze thought.

  ****

  Wearing a t-shirt and a pair of cut off shorts, Mercedes went into the refrigerator and grabbed her bottle of Kendall Jackson Chardonnay instead of the orange juice. It was nine o’clock in the morning and after pouring her a nice, tall glass, she sat back down at her computer, lit another cigarette and sipped. Seemed like all she did was drink lately. The situation with Justice had completely stressed her out, not to mention the shit going on with her sons. Surfing the web, she looked for a new job since her February rent was due in two weeks. With only three hundred dollars to her name, Mercedes wasn’t much of a saver, never had been…especially since she’d hoped that Justice would’ve asked her and the kids to move in with him by now.

  Mercedes glanced at the caller ID on her house phone when it rang. Seeing the words, Marietta Detention Ctr, pop up on the screen, she didn’t bother to answer it. She couldn’t bear to hear either of her sons complaining to her about getting out. Until she found a job, Mercedes had to figure out how to keep a roof over her head and food on the table. Unfortunately, bail money just wasn’t a priority at the moment. For now, the boys had made their bed so they were going to have to lay in it.

  “Shit, where’s the damn money at anyway if they were selling fucking drugs,” she said, blowing out some smoke.

  She picked up her T-Mobile, myTouch phone and dialed Justice’s cell number. She knew he wasn’t going to answer, which was perfectly fine since that wasn’t the purpose of her call. As soon as his voicemail came on, she quickly hit the star button to activate his voicemail. After she figured out that the passcode was his birth date, Mercedes checked his voice mail at least three times a day. It was like an obsession, she had to see who’d been calling her man.

  When Mercedes realized he had a new message, she turned down the TV with her remote. A frown appeared on her face within seconds as soon as she heard Skye’s voice. She listened as Skye told Justice how much she enjoyed the night they’d spent together. Skye then went on to say, she couldn’t wait until their date that night. Furious, Mercedes immediately deleted the message and threw her phone across the room.

 

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