Still thicker than water

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Still thicker than water Page 2

by Takerra, Allen


  You like that?

  Yes…

  Show me.

  She moaned sultrily the way Chauncey liked it, and even said the dirty words lightly that he loved to hear.

  Yes, right there daddy. Eat your pussy…this is your pussy.

  That’s my girl.

  She could hear him. She could feel him. And she wondered if whatever he was doing in his cell right now, could he taste her?

  She could feel herself building up to an orgasm as she moved her fingers faster and faster.

  “Oh Chauncey, oh yes…oh my god, yes,” she cried in passion. Her face grew hot and her left leg began to shake as her hair lay against her wet forehead that was now sweating.

  “Yes…yes…”

  “Sasha!” Mike yelled, interrupting her one on one party, and cutting her orgasm short.

  “Hu-huh?” She stammered, hoping that he hadn’t heard her.

  “You alright down there… You coming to bed?”

  She took a deep breath to regain her composure, and pulled her nightie back down to her thighs. She was cumming, but now she figured that she was just coming…back to bed.

  “Yes…yes I’m fine,” she stuttered. “I’ll be right up.”

  She could hear his heavy footsteps retreat from the stairs slowly back to the bedroom, and she wondered how she had missed hearing them in the first place. She also wondered how Mike had managed to keep her dissatisfied, even when he wasn’t involved in the encounter.

  Damn, she thought, standing up and making her way back to her bedroom. Back to reality.

  Chapter 2 - Truth

  The past couple of years have been so crazy. I never knew we would end up like this.

  For starters, my best friend Sasha, and her baby’s father Chauncey, are apart now. And they were like the hood’s Bonnie and Clyde, Newark’s own Beyonce and Jay. She’s married now, to some square dude, Mike, living down in Atlanta, and Chauncey’s locked down doing a bid. And it’s such a shame.

  Chauncey was like a big brother to me, he grew up with my own brother Chris, and they even worked for the same man…for my man, Respect. Or Ree, as I like to call him.

  See Ree, he’s like the alpha man, he’s got it all; swagger, boss status, intellect…and my heart. But, my brother got caught up and snitched on him and Ree had to go on the run. Now, my brother’s dead. And Kim’s dead... Kim, our sister, our girl, damn.

  See she was the life of the party, and I miss her so much. Sometimes I even miss Neli…Nah, maybe I just miss the way the four of us used to be.

  Neli, she was our other friend, and she’s in the damn crazy house now, but really, she deserves more. I don’t care if she don’t have it all, the way she set it all up, fucking Chauncey behind Sasha’s back, trying to get Sasha killed, and even having Kim murdered, I could never forgive her! I’m kinda glad Chauncey beat her the way that he did, even though that’s what got him locked up.

  Damn, see what I mean, it’s been crazy for everyone. And me, now here I am…But where am I?

  “Where am I?” Tatum questioned aloud. She stared at the cursor on the computer screen for a couple of seconds before she became frustrated and slammed the laptop closed. This was the third time this week that she had attempted to put her thoughts on paper, hoping that it would help get her book started. After all of the drama that occurred two summers ago, writing her dream book went from being a fantasy to a checkpoint on her must do list. In addition to forgetting him.

  Tatum had way too much shit on her mind.

  She got up from her computer desk and walked over to her bed, picking up a throw blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders. As she made her way to the thermostat to turn the heat up, she wondered what the weather was like in Jamaica.

  “It damn sure aint 48 degrees,” she whispered, turning her heat up to the max.

  She never did have the courage to pick up and follow Ree to Jamaica, even though she had contemplated heavy on it. She hadn’t heard from him, or even had a sign of him, since he had sent the mysterious postcard in the summer of ‘08.

  Now, here it was, a year and a half later, and he was still in her thoughts.

  It gets better every day though. I get over him a little more every day.

  Tatum felt like she had made the best decision, not wanting to live her life on the run, and bank her whole future on a postcard. I don’t care what Sasha says, sending a postcard does not equal, ‘I love you, come to Jamaica, and spend the rest of your life with me.’

  But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, she knew that he had wanted her to come.

  Had? But would he still? Tatum wondered, laying her head back against the wall, getting lost in her thoughts.

  Just then, her phone began vibrating on her computer desk as she walked over and answered, not recognizing the number.

  “Hello,” Tatum greeted, sounding more like a question.

  “Heyyy bitch, what it do?”

  Tatum smirked.

  “What it do? Okay, Atlanta overload…Whose number is this?”

  Sasha paused briefly before answering.

  “Oh… it’s mine. We got a new house number.”

  Tatum laughed.

  “Oh I see, you mean Chauncey been blowing yall shit up so much that Mike finally decided stop playing ‘yes m’am’ to you, put his foot down, and change that bitch up.”

  “Yeah, well, something like that,” Sasha chuckled, watching Mike drink orange juice straight from the carton as it spilled onto his shirt. It was the little things that disgusted Sasha.

  “Oh…he’s around,” Tatum guessed, noticing Sasha’s short replies.

  “Yeah…but about the other thing, I don’t get it?” Sasha spoke in code.

  “What you mean?” Tatum asked, slipping on some cozy socks. Her apartment still wasn’t heating up.

  Sasha watched as Mike made his way out of the kitchen, wiping his shirt with his hand, and out onto the deck where his photo studio was located. It was a hobby that he had recently taken up and Sasha was not allowed in it, not that she cared anyway. Once he closed the sliding door, Sasha continued.

  “Okay, he’s gone now. But yeah, I don’t get it,” she whispered. “How can he get mad about Chauncey calling here, Aubrey is Chauncey’s daughter too. He has a right to talk to her… I don’t get how he can be mad at that.”

  Tatum rolled her eyes at Sasha’s naivety.

  “I can. Shit, Chauncey be buggin’, calling all day, all night. And all times of the night at that. Aubrey doesn’t even be up…how does he do that anyway?” Tatum pondered, wondering how Chauncey managed all of these special privileges in jail.

  “You know what it is,” Sasha drawled in her country accent, thinking of how many connections Chauncey had. “But I guess you’re right. That’s why I let Mike change it. We were arguing so much about it, he kept bitching so I told him to just do it. Chaunc gon’ have to just hit the cell when he wanna talk to Aubrey.”

  “They can do that?” Tatum questioned.

  “Chauncey can,” was Sasha’s simple answer.

  There was a brief silence as Tatum thought of how evident Sasha’s love for Chauncey was. If Mike couldn’t see it, it meant he just didn’t want to.

  Tatum had to change the subject though, talking about Chauncey made Tatum think of Ree, being that they were so close. Chauncey was Ree’s number one, the next in line when Ree was still heavy in Jersey’s drug game. Tatum changed the topic.

  “Wait, why didn’t you call the house?”

  “Oh, it was off,” Sasha responded, sounding distant.

  Shit, Tatum thought. I gotta pay that bill. She wanted to change the subject again before Sasha offered her any money. She wasn’t doing badly to where she needed any handouts. Yeah, money was tight without her brother helping with the rent, but her hair clients kept her able to pay her bills and still manage to be fly. Things still, were just not as easy as they used to be and she found it now more difficult to stay on top of everything.

&nb
sp; Damn, when Ree was around. That’s all she could think. She didn’t want for anything with him. But his wealth wasn’t even what attracted her. She was in love with him. Oh well.

  Tatum now knew she had to get off of the phone matter.

  “Well, I know Chauncey’s gonna be pissed when he tries to call.”

  It seemed that Sasha perked at the mention of Chauncey.

  “Yeah, I know…” Sasha paused and then continued. “You know Tatum, I think I wanna visit you.”

  Tatum smirked, and twisted her mouth to the side.

  “You wanna come see me, huh? When?”

  “Tomorrow!” Sasha exclaimed. “I’m gonna come see you tomorrow, if I can get a flight.”

  Tatum shook her head from side to side and laughed to herself. She knew that Sasha wanted to visit Chauncey ASAP because he would be hot when he tried to call the house and it was disconnected.

  “Yeah well, you know you’re welcome, but don’t expect a party bitch. This visit’s short notice as hell and I got shit to do,” Tatum joked.

  “Oh please Tay, I’m taking you for a spa treatment. We’re gonna get facials and massages, and you get to see your goddaughter, and…we can bring you your extra special, crazy huge Christmas gift. You know you need a facial too, you probably look like shit,” Sasha laughed.

  Tatum sucked her teeth and went to the mirror, wondering what this gift was that Sasha was doting over. Tatum studied her long black curly hair and mocha complexion in the reflection. She looked gorgeous, but felt she could use a treatment.

  “Fuck you girl, I look good,” she murmured. “But wait, Christmas is weeks away...and you got this big gift already for me? You mean Miss Procrastinator did her Christmas shopping already?”

  Sasha rolled her eyes playfully and giggled.

  “Haha, but it’s Mrs. Procrastinator now, I’m a married woman, remember?” She remarked sarcastically. “And yes, that’s what good, suburban families do.” She and Tatum shared a laugh.

  “Whatever!” Tatum exclaimed, getting excited about seeing her friend. “Just call me when you get your flight info.”

  Sasha agreed, and the girls ended their conversation. Tatum decided to lie down and rest her eyes for a moment.

  A couple of hours later, a loud knock at the door awoke Tatum from her nap. She reached over and looked at the clock, and saw that it was after 5 pm and dark out. Damn, where did the time go?

  She slowly rose out of her bed and walked to the door.

  “Coming,” she muttered, barely audible.

  The banging on the door became more intense and louder and Tatum felt herself catching an instant attitude, as she made her way through the dark hallway to the front door.

  “I said I was coming, damn,” she snapped, finally snatching the door open. She rolled her eyes seeing that it was only Nikki, her brother’s ex, and the mother of her nieces. She had Tatum’s two nieces - Chanel and Tangee, all bundled up in their matching pink Northface coats, with McDonald’s bags in their hands. Tatum brightened seeing the girls.

  “Hey mamas, did you guys have fun?”

  They nodded and made their way into the house past her, desperate for heat and their fast food fixes.

  “Bye girls! Love you!” Nikki screamed after them, but they were already inside. “Damn Tay, what took you so long to come to the door? You know I got my six o’clock meeting today.”

  Nikki was a recovering cocaine addict, who unbeknownst to Tatum and the girls, had been clean for the past year and getting her life in order. She had recently been granted unsupervised visits with Chanel and Tangee, which Tatum was no huge fan of.

  “Well, I guess you better get going then,” Tatum quipped nonchalantly.

  “Yeah, I guess…bye Tay,” Nikki added, double stepping down the stairs and back to her 1988 Subaru in a rush. She was trying desperately to get back in Tatum’s good graces after abandoning her children for mostly all of their lives, but Tatum was making that extremely difficult to do.

  Tatum watched with contempt as Nikki pulled off, and then she shut her door on the cold December weather. She was happy the girls were back home so that they could enjoy some quality time together, and so that she could finally take her mind off of other things.

  Chapter 3 - Anticipation

  “Okay so, can you answer me this one question Sasha…Why the fuck, do you have so many outfits for two days?”

  Sasha turned around with a fake attitude but then busted out laughing. She was standing in her walk in closet, packing her Louis Vuitton duffel bag, and her childhood friend Jayde, was sitting on her bed giving her the 21 question session.

  “Actually it’s for three days, and I don’t know, I’m not sure what the weather is like in Jersey,” Sasha defended with a serious face, but not making eye contact as she tossed another pair of jeans into the bag.

  Jayde rolled her eyes and took her nail file out of her purse, not believing a single word Sasha was saying. As she filed her nails, she continued her accusations.

  “Yeah, whatever. All you gotta say is I wanna make sure I look good when I go see my baby daddy, Jayde. That’s all.”

  “I told you I’m not going to see him,” Sasha said in a hushed whisper. “And stop being so loud before Mike hears you.”

  Jayde sucked her teeth.

  “Mike, Smike, whatever. I don’t care if that little mothafucka hears me! Aint like he gonna do shit, he’s softer than cotton, Sash,” Jayde chuckled.

  Sasha studied Jayde, sitting there perched up like the Queen of England, and she wanted to defend Mike, but she knew Jayde was telling the truth. And if the truth needed to be told, Jayde would do the honors. She didn’t bite her tongue for anyone, and standing at 5 feet 10 inches with bold emerald green eyes, long flowing jet-black hair, and the best body that her money could and had bought her, people were either intimidated by her height, her beauty, or both. And she used it to her advantage.

  Sasha had known Jayde since she was younger, when she used to live in Atlanta as a girl. Their parents had been close and they had grown up together. They had lost touch when Sasha moved to Jersey, but when she came back to the South, she was happy to link back up with Jayde. It was good to have a friend close by with Tatum being so far away.

  And Jayde was the friend to have. While Sasha had gone off to college and fell in love, gotten pregnant and lived the hood fairytale, Jayde had stayed in Atlanta and mixed and mingled with the Georgia elite, and built a stone wall of connections and friends that could get you anything, anywhere, and anytime. She was something like the it-girl in Atlanta, and the Real Housewives didn’t have shit on her! If people thought Sasha was bad with her self-adoration and extra dose of confidence, then they wouldn’t want to meet Jayde. She was a bad bitch.

  “Hello ladies,” Mike greeted them cheerily, entering the room and holding Aubrey, just as Jayde had finished dissing him.

  “Hey babe,” Sasha responded holding up two sweaters and trying to decide which one to bring. She threw both onto the bed and then she walked over to Aubrey.

  “Hey mommy’s girl, hey baby girl,” she cooed at Aubrey, who giggled.

  “Hi Mommy,” she replied adorably.

  “I said hello, Jayde,” Mike restated.

  “Hello Mike,” Jayde said sarcastically with extra joy. She then smiled at Aubrey and reached out her arms. “Hey mama, hey girl… Come to Auntie Jayde.”

  As Mike handed off Aubrey he looked down at Sasha’s bag and got a lump in his throat and his stomach twisted in worry.

  “Going somewhere, babe?”

  Sasha played it cool making her way back to the closet.

  “Oh, yea… Tatum asked me to come up and visit her this weekend, being that we won’t see each other on Christmas. So I’m gonna go up there.”

  Jayde shook her head from side to side as she sat Aubrey on her lap facing her. She didn’t understand what the big deal was, and why Sasha felt the need to lie about visiting Chauncey; lying to Mike, to Tatum, to Jayde, and to herself.


  Mike hated her going there but he knew there was nothing he could do. He knew she was going to visit Chauncey and he tried to be okay with it, but he wasn’t. Every time she would go he would call her constantly and when she returned, he would drill her for weeks about what she did.

  “That’s all, you just going to see Tatum? You not going to the jail?” He put it out there.

  Sasha knew she could just fess up, but she didn’t.

  “No. Unh-unh, I just went not too long ago, remember?”

  “Yeah, I know. That’s what I was going to say,” Mike answered, matter of factly. “So, how long you’re going for?”

  Sasha sighed. Here goes the interview.

  “Um, just the weekend.”

  She went to her shoeboxes and retrieved a couple of pairs of stiletto-heeled boots.

  Mike studied his beautiful wife in her cut off shorts and wife beater tank top. She was gorgeous with a body of a goddess, and he was very possessive now that he had finally gotten her. He had waited for years for Chauncey to mess up, while he played the friend role, and he did not want him to ever get another chance of winning her back.

  “Oh, okay. Well, I’m not working this weekend. I can come with you,” he suggested, making his way closer to her.

  Sasha turned and looked at him.

  “Babe, you’re a doctor. You’re always on call. You can’t just leave for a whole weekend.”

  She dismissed his notion before he could get any further with it.

  Mike felt as if he was getting the brush off and he didn’t like it.

  “Well, babe, I have vacation days…I can put them in and then I won’t be on call.”

  Jayde rolled her eyes and continued playing peek-a-boo with Aubrey as Sasha tried to zip her bag closed.

  “Yeah…well…it’s kinda gonna be a girls’ weekend. We’ll be doing things for just the girls. Can you hold this while I zip?”

  She wanted to change the subject, he was so clingy.

  Mike struggled to hold the bag closed and pressed on.

  “What kind of things for the girls…and maybe if you didn’t pack… so many clothes… it would close more easily.”

 

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