by Jade Jones
Shayla’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment and anger. She felt used. Romeo was only nice whenever he wanted some pussy. “You know what? Never mind. I get it. Last night was just a front. I swear, you’re the devil himself,” Shayla said, on the verge of tears. “Get the fuck off my bed. Matter fact, get the fuck out my house. I ain’t finna play with these childish games with you. GET OUT!” she screamed. Grabbing a nearby pillow, Shayla launched it at his head to let him know she was serious.
Romeo scurried to his feet and backed away. Shayla had quickly gone from zero to one hundred. “Yo’, you fuckin’ trippin’,” he said, grabbing his wallet.
“If you’re gonna continue to bullshit then stay the fuck away from me, Romeo. One minute you act like you want me, and the next you’re fleeing. It’s tearing me the fuck apart! Make up your mind ‘cuz I’m not some fucking game. I’m your wife and I need you!” Tears fell from her eyes as she allowed her most vulnerable side to show.
When he didn’t answer fast enough, Shayla shook her head in pity. “Just get out, Romeo,” she said in a low tone.
He didn’t bother arguing as he grabbed his car keys off her nightstand and left. On the way to the front door he saw Tina sitting by the bay window, drinking coffee and reading an Allison Hobbs novel.
“Morning, Mrs. Edwards,” he mumbled.
Lines creased her forehead as she looked up and grimaced. “Don’t ‘morning, Mrs. Edwards me’,” she sassed. “I know you got my baby worked up again. You need to make it right and quickly, because the back and forth…I’m tired of it. You need to start accepting responsibility and being accountable for your actions. You can’t change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind…but you can change yourself.”
Romeo shrugged before responding with a smart-ass comeback. “You can plan a pretty picnic, but you can’t predict the weather.”
“Goodbye Romeo.”
“I’m just fuckin’ with you, Mrs. E. I got you. I’mma do better, I promise. Tell Shayla I love her, aight.” Romeo kissed his mother-in-law on the cheek and left the home.
All Tina could do was shake her head. “What am I gonna do with them?”
After showering and changing into her work uniform, Shayla embarked on the short walk to Ikea in Atlantic Station. She was a block away when Dexter pulled up beside her in his shiny BMW.
“Shay, can I holla at you real quick?”
She didn’t even look at his car when she said, “You can go to hell. That’s what you can do.”
Dexter knew that shit was coming after last night. He had wanted to keep Nina’s pregnancy under wraps but the cat was now out of the bag. He didn’t blame his ex for being upset, especially after what he did to her.
“Shayla, you know I would never intentionally hurt you.” Dexter made sure to keep his speed at the pace of her walking. Since he knew she wouldn’t get in the car this was his only way of communicating. Dexter still loved Shayla and he didn’t want them to end on bad terms. Hell, he didn’t want them to end period—not even while Nina was carrying his seed and she was supposedly with Romeo. The burning desire he had for Shayla had never died out. “We got history,” Dexter continued. “And I gotta solid respect for you. That shit I did…I never meant for it to happen. You gotta believe me.”
“Yeah, unh-huh. Yeah.” Shayla pretended to listen and care about the bullshit pouring from his mouth. “Suck my dick, Dexter.” With that, she walked through the sliding glass doors of Ikea. Dexter was left with his mouth open, and feeling stupid. The Shayla he remembered would’ve never told him some fucked up shit like that. She usually never spoke or behaved that way but he and Romeo had her fucked up. Shayla was tired of the drama, and now everyone would know that she was officially fed up.
***
The incessant ringing of her cellphone awakened Kimberlyn. She had a mild hangover but that didn’t stop Desmond from blowing up her shit. He’d seen the pictures on her IG from last night and he wasn’t feeling it.
“What do you want?” she answered in a muffled tone.
“Fuck you mean what I want? And why you sound like that? I know yo’ punk ass ain’t over there laid up with that nigga!”
Desmond tried to keep his voice down so that Destiny wouldn’t hear. It was Saturday, therefore no school. Last month, he had legally obtained full custody of his daughter. Dana was sick with it. The fact that she’d pulled their daughter out of school, moved to Georgia, and holed up in some hotel to stalk him showed her obvious unfitness as a parent. She’d made her bed and now she had to lay in it.
“And if I was laid up with a nigga?” Kimberlyn challenged.
“Don’t get fucked up tryin’ to be cute, bitch.” Desmond was heated. She knew he would be pissed after seeing the pictures she posted of her and ole’ buddy last night.
While Kimberlyn had him on the phone she quickly went to her IG and erased them. She was low-key trashed last night and barely remembered posting them.
“Nah, don’t try to erase the shits now,” Desmond said. He was watching her page like a hawk, waiting for her to make a move. Kimberlyn could be so fucking predictable. “I should come over there and snatch yo’ mufuckin’ ass up.”
“You don’t even know where I live now,” Kim laughed. She was amused by his jealousy. She actually got a kick out of knowing he still loved her. In all reality, she missed him.
After breaking up with him because of the house fire, Kimberlyn took her insurance settlement and moved in a house in Brookhaven. She didn’t even bother giving Desmond her new address because she didn’t want his problems.
“You wanna put money on that?” he asked. Kimberlyn wasn’t as slick as she thought she was.
“Whether you know or not, don’t bring yo’ ass over here. I still ain’t fucking with you like that, Desmond.”
“If I can’t come to that mufucka, it bet not be no other niggas in that bitch. ‘Cuz yo’ ass will get a nigga fucked up.”
“I’m single now. I’ll do what I want.”
“Hmph. We’ll see about that shit.”
Kimberlyn hung up on Desmond and tossed her phone on the bed. She wasn’t stuttin’ him or his threats. He could keep that shit. It was his drama and crazy ass baby mama that wedged them apart in the first place.
Desmond sent a series of tasteless text messages but Kim ignored them. Climbing out of bed, she padded barefoot to the kitchen, poured a glass of orange juice, and walked outside to check her mail. She almost stepped on the single red rose left on her doorstep.
“What in the world…”
Kimberlyn knelt down and grabbed the flower. Who the hell would leave a rose at her door? That definitely wasn’t Desmond’s style. Besides, he was mad at her. He wouldn’t even do something like that.
Kimberlyn looked around the cul de sac suspiciously before retreating back inside. She quickly secured both the top and bottom locks. Who in the fuck had left the rose?
8
It was Liberty Township’s first day working at Ikea and she wouldn’t have been surprised if they sent her home and told her to never come back. Every ten minutes she retreated to the bathroom and not because she had IBS. It was because her ex-girlfriend hadn’t stopped harassing her since their messy breakup. She worked at a nursing home on the weekends, and she needed the extra money.
“Trip, will you stop fucking calling me! I’m not even supposed to have my phone on me while I’m on the floor! It’s only for emergencies in case something ever happens to Luke.”
“Bitch, I’mma make something happen to Luke if I don’t get my shit!”
“You aren’t gonna touch my little brother! Let’s get that shit clear!” Liberty stressed. She would shoot Trip’s psychotic ass before she let that happen. “Now if you don’t mind, I’m at work—”
“Bitch, fuck that job. I’ll come up there and blow that mufucka up!” she threatened. “I want the rest of my fucking shit! I’m tired of playing with your stupid ass!”
“I told you when I get the money up I’l
l send a U-Haul to you—”
“Nah. Fuck that you thieving bitch! I wanna get my own shit!”
“When have I ever stolen from you?” Liberty asked.
Trip was always so fucked up on liquor and pills that she didn’t realized she misplaced her own money and items. “Like I said, I wanna come get my own shit.”
“You know the restraining order says you can’t come within—”
“Man, I don’t give a fuck about a piece of paper, fat bitch—”
Liberty hung up on her crazy ass before she took things too far. She had a nasty headache after arguing with her all night and morning. Trip was the six-foot, light-skinned, green-eyed demon she’d just escaped. She had retired from playing professional basketball overseas after suffering a major injury. After her career ended she just hadn’t been the same. Trip started drinking and doing drugs heavily. Prior to the accident, she already had a severe case of Intermittent Explosive Disorder, so that coupled with the narcotics only made things worse. Trip became abusive both verbally and physically over time, and eventually Liberty had no choice but to let her go. She didn’t care about the money because she had no problem supporting them. But the day she put her hands on Liberty’s 16-year old brother Luke, she knew that was the last straw. He’d intervened one night when Trip was beating her ass in a drunken fit of rage.
On top of Trip’s mental disorder she was also extremely jealous. If Liberty looked at another girl or guy the wrong way she smacked her up. She always thought she was cheating even though she’d never stepped out on her during their three-year relationship.
When things became too violent and the threats became more serious, Liberty filed for a restraining order. Trip was livid, but she’d brought it upon herself.
Walking over to the restroom sink, Liberty turned on the faucet. She then cupped her hands, collected a generous amount of cool water, and splashed it over her face. Afterwards, she patted her skin dry and stared at the image of the weary woman before her.
Heavy bags rested underneath her usually vibrant eyes. Trip had her stressing bad.
At 5’5 and 230 lbs., Liberty was a beautiful mocha-colored woman who wore her thickness well. Naturally long and wispy lashes complimented her chinky, hazel eyes. She always wore her jet-black hair razor cut in an asymmetrical bob. She had a simple style; she was the epitome of the-girl-next-door.
“I look like shit,” Liberty told herself. Trip wouldn’t let her live or sleep peacefully. Ever since they’d broken up her ex had done nothing but make her life a living hell.
Four years ago, Liberty’s mother had died of lung cancer, and she ended up taking custody of her younger brother. For the longest it had just been her and Luke, but then Trip came along. In the beginning she was sweet, charming, smart, and funny. Hell, she was the first female Liberty had ever been with so that spoke volumes right there. Trip was everything Liberty wanted in a partner, but then she fucked up her ankle and things quickly went from sugar to shit.
How did I let myself get into this mess?
When the weight of her problems became overwhelming, Liberty broke down crying right there in the bathroom. Struggling to take care of Luke and dealing with Trip’s crazy, bi-polar ass was just too much to deal with.
All of a sudden, Shayla entered the restroom. She stopped mid-step when she saw Liberty bawling at the restroom sink. This was her first time seeing the new girl, and she thought about leaving as quietly as she came. Shayla had a heart though so she didn’t.
“Um…are you okay?” she asked, walking over.
Liberty quickly wiped her tears away and straightened up. She didn’t even hear her fellow co-worker walk in. To say she was embarrassed would’ve been an understatement.
“I’m fine. It’s just my ex…terrorizing me.”
“Girl, fuck him. Don’t let his ass fuck up your paycheck.”
“It’s a her,” Liberty corrected Shayla. “And I’m trying not to—especially with it being my first day and all. But this bitch is calling me and making threats about hurting my brother. I don’t know what the fuck to do.”
“I’ll tell you what you not gon’ do. Let that chick stress you. Go to the police. Do what you gotta do. Don’t let her get you out your hook up though.” Shayla was all too familiar with doing that, and it wasn’t a good look.
Liberty sniffled and wiped her tears with her sleeve. “Thanks. I needed that. You right. Half the time the bitch is all talk anyway. I’m Liberty, by the way,” she said, extending her hand.
“Shayla.”
They shook hands.
“Nice to meet you,” Liberty said.
“Likewise. And look, if you ever need someone to talk or vent to just hit me up.”
After exchanging pleasantries and numbers, both women exited the bathroom where they were met with loud yells close by.
“Shayla! Shayla?” Dexter bent the corner and as soon as he saw Shayla he approached her looking angrier than a bull in a ring. “So you just gon’ chump me off in the fuckin’ parking lot like I’m some lame ass nigga?” He went off on her ass in front every man, woman, and child within ear range. The shit was beyond embarrassing.
“Calm down! You at my job acting like you ain’t got no sense! We can talk about this later, Dexter! This is not the place!” Shayla told him. She could smell the heavy stench of Jack Daniels seeping from his pores. It wasn’t even noon yet and her ex was already geeked up.
Liberty looked from Shayla to Dexter in suspense. Who knew she wasn’t the only employee with baggage?
“Fuck that! We gon’ talk about this shit now!” he yelled, spitting everywhere. “I don’t give a fuck about this job! ‘Cuz fuckin’ ‘round with me you won’t have no mufuckin job!”
Sadly, after security finally broke up their minor altercation, that’s exactly what happened.
***
Kimberlyn was busy getting her nails done when Shayla called her distressed and crying hysterically. “What’chu mean you got fired? Slow down, I can barely make out a word you’re saying. Look I’m at Levelz. Meet me here.”
Twenty minutes later, Uber dropped off Shayla. She was still in her work uniform when she stormed in the beauty lounge mad as shit. She’d been working at Ikea for over a year and Dexter had messed around and got her terminated. Her supervisor claimed the spectacle she created was bad for business, so he had no choice but to let her go.
When Shayla saw Kim, she walked over and plopped in the chair next to hers. She’d stopped crying but her eyes were still red and puffy. “My life is falling the fuck apart. First my marriage, now my job. Damn. Something has to give.”
“What happened?”
“Dexter.” She spat his name out like it was a bitter flavor on her taste buds. “Dexter fucking happened.”
Kimberlyn thought about mentioning the rose, but realized her friend’s problems outweighed her own. “Why the fuck is that zero always running behind you like some annoying mutt? He irks my fucking nerves and the nigga ain’t even my ex,” Kim said. “Look, don’t even trip about that lil’ shit. I got your back ‘til you find something else. And you know Romeo would never have you fucked up.”
Shayla thought it was odd that she’d say that considering the two-month absence. “Romeo doesn’t give a fuck about me. All he cares about is himself.”
“I know firsthand that’s not true.”
“How?” Shayla snapped. “How do you know that?”
Kimberlyn hesitated and Shayla knew she was hiding something. They’d been friends for years, so she knew her better than she knew herself. Kim was definitely not telling her some shit. “How do you know firsthand, K?” she pressed.
“’Cuz I been keeping him updated on your health and life in general these last couple months. We talk all the time. He cares a great deal about you, Shayla. Who did you think paid those hefty ass medical expenses? That man loves your black ass. You know it too.”
Shayla wanted to be mad at Kimberlyn for keeping that from her, but she was glad
to know that Romeo never stopped caring.
“Yeah, that’s that crazy bitch right there. The one I was telling you about from last night,” they suddenly heard someone say off in the distance.
Shayla and Kim looked over and saw Nikki whispering to her girl in the waiting room. Their un-serviced asses had nothing better to do than to gossip and throw shade. Shayla started to check the fuck out those petty bitches, but decided to let it go. She knew she wasn’t crazy. Just crazy in love.
“Fuck them weak hoes,” Kim said, waving them off. Since her nails had dried, she stood to her feet and dug in her Chanel bag. “I wanna pay for my friend’s fill-in too.”
Shayla looked down at her poorly manicured hands and frowned.
“Oh, yes bitch!” Kim laughed. “Your ass definitely needs one!”
***
That afternoon, Romeo and his partner in crime were at their warehouse with a few of their workers. After Ava and Cool robbed them a few months back, they had to shake shit up. Desmond still had a hit out on that grimy bitch. Now he and Romeo kept their precious product locked away in a one-level building out in the middle of nowhere, an hour from the city. It was also perfect for the trucking company they used as a front.
Romeo and Desmond were unloading bails of weed as Dez vented about the foul shit Kim was doing.
“I should’ve went over there and knocked that hoe on her ass,” Desmond told him. “She really been tryin’ a nigga, on some real shit. Then when I called her out on the fuck shit she goes and deletes the picture. She done shut a nigga out like Dana was the problem but really I just think the bitch been wanted to get loose. The fire was just her escape. And you know what else? I’m startin’ to think Dana ain’t even start that shit.”
Romeo laughed. “Man, yo’ baby moms do be wildin’.”
“Yeah, but she ain’t that fuckin’ crazy. To do that shit where my son lays his head? That’s some real heartless shit.”