Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do 3

by Shvonne Latrice

When I got to Stokes, I parked right up front in the handicapped section, not giving a fuck, and then darted inside of the hospital. I noticed it was only two levels and looked different from normal humongous ass hospitals.

  Yanking my shirt down over my head, I said, “Aye, I’m Cortez Khali,l and—”

  “Right this way, Mr. Khalil.” A doctor approached, giving me that sympathetic smile white people always gave when seeing someone of color.

  I followed him down the hall and to a room, then took a deep breath before entering. What I saw when I stepped in made me want to punch the doctor as he shut the door behind me. Instead, I just stared, trying to remind myself that I had a lot to lose.

  “She took a bottle full of pills and slit her wrists in attempt to commit suicide. Thankfully, a neighbor who checks on her frequently, due to a crazy ex-boyfriend, found her before the results were fatal.

  We will be keeping her here for a little bit to do some evaluations, but you can stay to visit for a tiny while since she stated you’re her only family. I will leave you two alone for a moment.” The nigga exited after a moment of silence when he realized I wasn’t gon’ say shit.

  “Hi, baby,” she said weakly, adjusting her sitting position before wincing in pain.

  Walking over to the hospital bed, I gripped the edges and spoke through clenched teeth, “Sienna, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing now that you’re here, baby—” She tried to touch my face, but I slapped the fuck out of her hand. “This is why I wanna die!” she screamed.

  “Shut yo’ stupid ass up with all that yelling ’fore I smother yo’ ass with a pillow.” I threatened, making her cower.

  “You haven’t answered my calls or texts. You don’t come to see me anymore. I want to die, Cortez. I don’t need to live anymore because you don’t want me.”

  I closed my eyes and sighed because this shit was blowing me. I’d always known Sienna was unstable as a muthafucka, but because I could always dick her down, I felt she’d be good. I never expected to meet Blaise, then be in love and shit, let alone be faithful, so I didn’t see this suicide attempt coming.

  I fell down into the chair next to her bed and just sat there thinking for a second.

  Putting my hands in the prayer position, I looked up to make eye contact with Sienna.

  “You know why I don’t fuck with you? Why I ain’t make you my main bitch?”

  “No,” she whimpered. “But tell me, and I can fix it.”

  “Because you’re weak as fuck. You a pretty bitch with a nice body and good pussy, but yo’ insides ain’t worth shit.”

  “I—”

  “You think niggas wanna fuck with females who would kill themselves because they ain’t fucking with ’em?” I let my eyebrows dip. “You see the type of nigga I am, and you thought I would want you by seeing that yo’ ass is a weakling?”

  “I thought you love—”

  “I don’t. I had love for you, but seeing you like this, I don’t even have that shit no more. I thought you had some muthafuckin’ sense, but you ain’t got shit but a nice ass shell.”

  “I know.” She began sobbing into her hands. I felt bad as fuck, but only a small bit. Sienna was cool and gave me the least problems; however, she needed to hear this shit to shape the fuck up. “I just didn’t want to be here without you.”

  “You gon’ have to. You killing yo’self ain’t gon’ make me want you to suck my dick no more than usual. You would’ve murked yaself and guess what? I would’ve went home to lay up with Blaise after ya fucking funeral.” I got up.

  “I hate hearing her name. It just, ugh!” she hollered through tears. “I hate seeing her pictures on social media, I hate her TV show, I hate you for loving her, I just hate her!”

  Leaning down into Sienna’s face while gripping the headboard and side panel of the bed, I whispered, “Keep up the theatrics, Sienna, and you won’t have to kill yo’ fucking self because I will. And it won’t be no peaceful shit like pills, because I’ll tie yo’ ass up in a warehouse and play Operation with a chainsaw and some pliers.”

  “What is all this screaming?” The doctor rushed in.

  “No! No! No!” Sienna yelled, scratching my neck with her long ass nails.

  “Bitch.” I gripped the fuck out of her neck out of reflex, but then let go, remembering where I was. “Let me get the fuck up out of here before I hurt her. Don’t call me no more about this unstable ass female. I ain’t her nigga,” I let the doctor know before leaving.

  I made it home about thirty minutes later and went straight to the shower since I’d left the gym for Sienna’s stupid ass. Once out, I heard Island and Blaise in the kitchen, so I slipped on some boxers, sweats, and socks before joining.

  “Smoothie?” Blaise handed me some green shit.

  “Smoothie?” Island repeated, making me cheese at her.

  “Nah, it looks nasty as fuck.”

  “Don’t hurt my feelings. It’s good for you. Drink it.” She fixed Island’s shirt as she sat on the large, circular counter in the middle of the kitchen.

  Taking it, I sipped it, and since it wasn’t bad, I polished it off.

  A smiling Blaise walked over to me, tossing her arms around my neck before pressing her lips against mine.

  “What the fuck is this?” She touched the scratch on my neck.

  “I—”

  “Because it looks like another bitch was getting fucked and scratched you in the midst.”

  “How you know you ain’t do it?”

  “Because some cheap ass nails did this! Not me!” she barked. I should’ve known her FBI ass would see this after she found a single eyelash in my hospital bed and blew the fuck up.

  “Long story short, Sienna tried to kill herself and told the hospital I was her nigga. When they called and said my girlfriend was there, I assumed it was you and went. We had a conversation, and her demented ass clawed me.” I caressed Blaise’s belly as I spoke.

  “I tried, but I’m adding her to my list of ass whoopings. And see what happens when you give out this dick?” She kissed me.

  “I ain’t realize it was hitting that hard.”

  “It is. That’s why I’m pregnant.”

  We both laughed.

  “That’s not all me. That good ass pussy made me fuck around and become a daddy.”

  Again, we chuckled before kissing a few times.

  “You been daddy,” Blaise cooed against my lips.

  “Daddy!” Island looked to me, smiling brightly, repeating after us. “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Hi, Daddy!”

  Blaise and I both stared at her for a minute before regaining eye contact.

  I wasn’t tripping, but I knew Blaise was.

  Nichole

  I felt like shit, but I was going to go see Helen today because she didn’t want to leave the house until her nose healed. Blaise had done some serious damage, to the point where Helen had to get surgery to correct the bone or something of that nature. Shit, all I knew was that it was bad, and she had to go under the knife.

  I honestly didn’t feel like going to sit up in her house and listen to her mope and complain. But since I did her dirty by leaving her in the lion’s den, I was going to suck it up.

  Once I was dressed and had my new cute sweater from Givenchy on, I checked my belly out in the mirror. It was so round and perfect, making me smile. I’d planned to wait until the birth to find out my baby’s gender, but I wanted to know now, so I’d scheduled an appointment for later this afternoon.

  Seeing my belly made me happy, not only because I loved my child, even though I didn’t know I wanted one until it was already in there, but also because it was gonna guarantee its mommy a check.

  My phone rang, making me drop my sweater to cover my stomach. I saw Ian was calling, so I sat down on my bed to answer.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey, baby, how you feeling?”

  “I’m fine, I guess. I thought you were coming to LA yesterday so that we could go find out the gen
der together?”

  “Right, shit. I forgot to book my ticket with all this shit going on. But just text or call me to tell me what it is. Or we can FaceTime in there.”

  “No, Ian. My doctor doesn’t allow cell phones in the room when using equipment.” I dropped my head. I felt like I was about to cry.

  “Aight, then text it—”

  “It’s not the same!” I burst into tears. I’d never been a crier, but now I guess I was. “This is something we’re supposed to do together! And what did you even get caught up with?”

  “Business. Look, baby, I have to go, but I should be home very soon, and I promise I will make this up to you. What you want, a Rolex, Patek, Richard Mille, or all three?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I replied sadly. For the first time in my life, a luxury watch didn’t excite me.

  “Aight, I’ll surprise you. I love you.”

  “Love you too.” I hung up the phone.

  I dabbed my eyes and then fixed the makeup surrounding that area before leaving.

  I got to Helen’s place in West Hollywood. It was a beautiful condo that she’d convinced her ex to buy her in exchange for not telling his wife about them. In the end, she reneged, sending all the tea to the blogs when he tried to later cut her off.

  “Damn, took you forever to answer the door.” I turned my lip up as soon as she answered.

  “Sorry. I feel terrible.”

  “It’s just your nose, bitch.” I shut the door behind myself as she walked like a decrepit back to her couch.

  “I know that, but medication affects the whole body.” She damn near fell onto the couch, sighing. By the time I sat next to her, she was reaching for a bottle of white wine, filling up two glasses.

  “Should you be drinking while taking medication? And I have a whole human growing in my stomach. I can’t indulge.”

  “Fuck that medication, and sorry, I forgot. This whole fiasco has me all over the place.” She gulped some down, then refilled her glass with the one she’d poured for me. “I hate you for leaving me.”

  “I’m sorry, but all I thought about was my baby. I wasn’t about to lose my child in a club brawl.”

  “I get it.” She stared at her flat screen as she took another sip.

  “So what happened?” I placed my Louis on the coffee table. “I mean, after she broke your nose.”

  “I swung on her but missed, then when I fell to the ground, I heard voices before I passed out. The last thing I remembered as I lied on the floor was her threatening me, and my head pounding like a club speaker. I almost thought Belly’s ass had hit me.”

  We both laughed heartily.

  “Shit, he may be teaching her ass some things. Then again, Blaise has always packed a punch.”

  “Yeah, she had your ass dazed and confused with your lace front hanging off.”

  “Ha ha, bitch.” I sat back, staring Helen down. “So what are you going to do about it?”

  “About what?”

  “Her hitting you. I mean, look at you. How are you going to catch a new nigga? And you know, your nose makes your face. If when you take that white shit off and look like a whole new person, you may never fuck with a rich nigga again.”

  I watched Helen ponder.

  “True. Shit, you, Mindy, and Blaise all got babies by and rings from ballers. I’m the only one still waiting.” She stared at her floors. “What should I do?”

  “I would press charges. Blaise is coming into a lot of money, honey, and I don’t just mean child support. She’s got that TV show, and I just saw an article that said she was promoted to series regular.”

  “So I should sue her?”

  “Absolutely. Get as much money as you can. That’s the price celebrities have to pay when they assault people.”

  “You know what, bitch, you’re right. Why should I let that hoe get away with breaking my damn nose?”

  “You shouldn’t.”

  “You should sue too for when she beat you up.”

  “No, I’m stressed enough as it is. Plus, I have Ian on top of my own money, so I’m good for now.”

  Hell, I wasn’t about to press charges on anybody. I was scared enough, worrying about Blaise finding me, so I wasn’t about to poke the bear. Not to mention, I still had a sliver of hope that she and I would become friends again, so suing her would dead that for good.

  “Makes sense. As for me, I’ll be calling my lawyer soon.”

  I smirked in response then watched Helen pour more wine into her glass.

  She and I chatted for a while until it was about an hour before my appointment, so I left.

  I wanted to get my usual vanilla bean Frappuccino from Starbucks, so I needed enough cushion in time for that. As I waited impatiently for my delicious drink, I felt my phone buzzing, so I removed it from my purse. The number wasn’t a stored contact, but I answered anyway since it was local.

  “This is Nichole.”

  “How you gon’ get a restraining order against me when we’re about to have a baby together?”

  Taking my drink from the bar, I stabbed my straw down into it then took a sip before walking away.

  “Will, you are not supposed to call me.”

  Ian had pulled some strings so that I was able to get the TRO.

  “I know that. That’s why I’m using a random person on the street’s phone. Now I get that you want to be a happy family with Ian, but you can’t, not unless he’s cool with me raising my kid.”

  “The kid is not yours, Willem, how many times do I have to tell you this?” I whined, getting into my car.

  “You don’t know that. We won’t know until a DNA test is taken, Nichole. You just don’t want it to be mine.”

  “Negro, I got pregnant the week before I fucked you. It is not yours. I lied to you because I wanted your money. If I spoke French, I would tell you in that language too, but English is my only native. It is not your baby!”

  “You got any appointments coming up that I need to make?”

  Him asking me that almost made my heart stop. The fact that he wanted to be a part of things like a man should, made me wish he were the daddy. But unfortunately, I’d gotten what I’d wished for: to be pregnant by a rich and famous nigga that bought me anything I wanted. I forgot to ask for love, quality time, kindness, and care.

  “I’m about to go find out the gender, but Will, please stop it. You aren’t my baby’s father, and I’d like you to leave me alone. When it gets here, I will gladly let you take a DNA to see for yourself, but it’s Ian’s.”

  “You’re about to find out the gender? How, when that nigga is in Colorado?”

  Will’s comments only made me feel worse.

  “Mind your damn business. And if you call me again, I’m going to the police!” I hit the red end button.

  I relaxed in my car and drank my whole Frappuccino. By the time I was done, I had twenty minutes to make my appointment, so I left, thinking the whole way. The one thing I thought would make me happy was doing the exact opposite.

  I parked at the doctor and then went inside to check in. I waited about five minutes before going to the back where I got ready to see what I was having. I felt embarrassed being there alone, but I wasn’t going to cancel my appointment because of Ian’s trifling ass.

  “How do you feel about having a baby girl?” My doctor removed her gloves. “Little girls are so cute.”

  “They are, especially when they grow hair long enough to style.” I smiled, looking down at the picture she’d given me. I wanted my daughter to be nothing like me or any of my friends.

  I couldn’t stop looking at the sonogram photo, even when I was out of the office and inside of my car. Taking a picture with my iPhone, I sent it off to Ian.

  Me: It’s a baby girl.

  Ian: She’s perfect already. I love you.

  I smiled at his text but didn’t reply. I didn’t feel loved and wasn’t going to say it back.

  I drove myself home, and once there, I turned on some Aaliyah th
en started on a late lunch for myself.

  After putting everything in the oven, I turned on Netflix to pass time, but of course, my phone bothered me. I saw I had a message from Mindy, so I opened it.

  Mindy: Do you know her? The streets are saying she fucks with Ian, and she’s posting that she’s in Colorado at the moment.

  My heart sank down to my stomach as I looked at the picture of the Instagram thot. Immediately, I went to Instagram to type in her profile name to look her up. Seeing her half naked pictures made me miss my body. And the fact that she was possibly fucking Ian killed my self-esteem even more.

  I watched her story, and she surely was in Colorado earlier today, and there wasn’t shit in Colorado, so what was she there for? Bitches like her only went to three places: Atlanta, Miami, and LA.

  I went back to the girl’s profile because I was still in shock, then tapped her story again. She’d added something new, claiming she couldn’t wait until the Los Angeles Chargers played again. She then said her favorite number was six, Ian’s jersey number. That was all I needed.

  I knew bitches like her, always posting little things to let people know who your nigga was or who you were fucking. Keeping it subtle but loud was the name of the game; I used to be one of those too.

  I left the app, went to my recent calls, and tapped Ian’s name. I was so upset that I swore I felt my baby move, so I gripped my belly and took a deep breath as the line trilled.

  “Aye, is everything good?” Ian answered, and I felt like he was whispering.

  “Why are you talking so lowly!”

  “I’m not. I’m talking regularly, but why are you yelling? You sound upset. You aight?”

  “Who is…” I pulled my phone away and quickly switched back to Instagram to see her name, “Jessica Mae?”

  His silence made me want to throw up.

  “W-who?” he finally quizzed late as hell.

  “Jessica Mae! The bitch that’s up there in Colorado with you!” I screamed, standing up.

  “Nichole, calm the fuck down. Ain’t nobody here for or with me. Now some of my teammates have females here.”

  “No, I don’t believe you,” I whimpered. “Why is she saying her favorite number is your jersey number?”