Kismet 3

by Raynesha Pittman

  “This is exactly the reason I didn’t want him near you.”

  “You knew he was into raping women?”

  “No, I knew he couldn’t be trusted, and that part I did voice to Dre many times. I didn’t care how big or small the task Dre was putting him on. I didn’t trust what he’d do while he was on it. Is there anything else I need to know?”

  I fought with my better judgment for a few seconds, and when I shook my head to give my nonverbal no, my mouth said, “Yes, you’re right not to trust him. When he was trying to convince me why I should sleep with him, he confessed to sleeping with Tasha and...”

  “And what, Savannah?”

  I couldn’t get the rest of the words out of my mouth. They didn’t have shit to do with me, but thinking of being the person who held the information that would break Dre’s heart was a title and job I didn’t want.

  “Savannah, I need you to tell me everything. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, I trust you... to a point, but you’re Dre’s boy.”

  “What are you saying?” he questioned like he didn’t understand what I was talking about.

  “I’m saying, you knew Mike wasn’t to be trusted around me for all those months, and I know you voiced that to Dre because you don’t seem like the type to bite your tongue. Yet, he still sent him to protect me supposedly, and if it weren’t for the self-defense training you put me through, I could have been raped... or even dead. Dre’s confidence in the wrong person could have cost me my life. How am I supposed to feel about anyone else he invites into my situation?”

  “You’re right to feel how you feel, and he is my boy, but more like my brother than a friend. I know you are scared and don’t know who you can trust, but I need you to trust me. If I don’t know the truth about anything else, I do know he loves you and wants you protected, even from him and his spurts of anger. As his brother, I’m promising right now to keep you safe and protected from everything and everybody. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, I hear you but—”

  “No buts. I need you to believe that as long as I know you have my brother’s heart, I’m going to keep you protected. That protection includes protection from him and his bad decisions. You should have never been left alone with Mike.”

  The truth of his words was in his eyes. They were filled with concern, hurt, anger, and slight fear. I believed him.

  “Ryan, Andre Jr. is Mike’s son, and the way he said it to me sounds like Tasha knows it. He let it come out of his mouth like he didn’t care about Dre at all.”

  “Damn, I already knew he fucked that ho, Tasha. I caught those two leaving motels a few times and watched him pull up to Dre’s place and not leave to almost sunrise, adjusting his clothes. He has to die for this shit. Seven years of letting my brother believe that’s his son and almost raping you, I have to let Dre know what’s been going on.” Ryan jumped out of the chair he was sitting in and pulled out his cell phone.

  I had to stop him.

  “No, Ryan. Please don’t. I need this to stay between you and me for now. You have your reasons for not telling Dre about Mike and Tasha, and I have mine. Please don’t call him. That’s a face-to-face conversation to have when he’s free. And I think they caught him with his cell phone because I tried to text him the other day, and it wouldn’t go through.”

  “He changed his number. Are you sure you don’t want Dre to know about this? Because I think it’s time he knows that Mike ain’t his friend.”

  My mind didn’t accept anything that came out of Ryan’s mouth once I heard him say Dre had changed his number. Why didn’t he call and tell me it changed, but he made sure to update Ryan?

  “Savannah, is there anything else I should know?”

  As he spoke, he searched my face as if I had hidden stories I hadn’t shared with him on it. I thought about his question, then pulled out my phone and played him the threatening voice messages I’d been getting.

  “That’s it. I’m coming back to Atlanta with you. Stay here while I make my arrangements at work. Then I’ll be back to get you for dinner with Mama Dee.” Ryan left the room before I could protest.

  When we made it to Mama Dee’s, I knew my week had gone from bad to worse because we were given entrance to her house by none other than Tasha, Dre’s ghetto-ass baby mama, or at least that’s her claim to fame. From our first encounter, I knew the bitch and I would be exchanging words before we would make it to dessert. I hoped I wouldn’t have to beat this ho’s ass in my mother-in-law’s house.

  Part Three

  Dre

  Chapter Nine

  Tired of All the Games

  I don’t know what the fuck was up with my mama lately, but she was tripping. First, she gave my baby mama Tasha my cell phone number. She knew Tasha had snitched on me once. Why she thought she wouldn’t do it again, I don’t know.

  Tasha had called my phone three times from three different numbers in less than ten minutes, and she found a way to leave me five voice messages. I was in the meal hall eating and couldn’t answer. When I called back, some stuttering nigga answered the phone, then handed it to her.

  “Why you ain’t been answering my calls when I call from my cell phone, Dre?”

  “Cuz I’m in jail and don’t have your cell phone number. How was I supposed to know it was you?” Tasha always asked dumb-ass questions, and when I threw a question back at her, she never had an answer worth listening to.

  “Uh-huh. I saw Mama Dee at the football game Saturday, and she told me you were getting married. Why I gotta be the last to know that my baby daddy is getting married? I thought your lying ass said marriage wasn’t for you. Why are you always lying to me, Dre?”

  I didn’t understand the purpose of this conversation. She had given up custody of my son to my mama, and she had moved on with her life. She was pregnant by some weak-ass nigga that sold CDs and DVDs that he illegally burned in front of the liquor store. I went to school with the nigga. He was a ho then, and he was a ho now. If she were supposedly happy, why did I have to give her an update? Instead of hanging up on her and having her blow my phone up all night, I answered her question the best I could.

  “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you, Tasha. Yes, I’m getting married, and I guess she changed my mind on marriage.”

  “Who is this bitch, Dre? I don’t want none of your hoes around my son. I’ll cut that bitch, and you know I will. And how you gon’ marry somebody when you still in love with me, nigga? You’re just going around saying that shit because you mad you found out I was pregnant. You don’t gotta be jealous. If you wanted a bitch back, that’s all you had to say.”

  This is exactly why I thought Tasha’s ass was crazy. How do I getting married to somebody else mean that I wanted her back? If I wanted her back, wouldn’t proposing to her be the way I should show it? This stupid shit was getting on my nerves.

  “What’s up, Tasha? Why are you calling me with all this bullshit? We don’t have shit to talk about. My mama has Andre Jr., and we both have moved on. I ain’t got time for this dumb shit.”

  “If I was that other bitch, you would,” she yelled into the phone.

  For the first time in a long time, I had to agree with her.

  “Yep, you right.” I hung up the phone, then called Sprint and changed my number.

  I was pissed at my mama for giving her my number, so I didn’t call her for a few days, and when I did, she told me of the second mistake she made. She slipped and told Tasha she was meeting Savannah for the first time when Tasha came to visit Junior. She said Tasha had found a reason to linger over there all day and that’s when she and Savannah met, and they had it out—badly.

  “I don’t know which one of them started it, Dre. I could hear them cussing each other out from the kitchen. Tasha was in her bitch-this-and-bitch-that mode, and Savannah was yelling them right back, which really shocked me, but all I know is when I walked back in the dining room from getting the rolls out of the oven, food and dishes were being thrown a
cross the room. Ryan was able to get Savannah and leave, so I don’t know if she was hurt, but Tasha had to get stitches in her cheek from Savannah tossing a steak knife at her. Did I tell you I’m starting to like that Savannah more and more, baby?”

  “What do you mean you don’t know if Savannah was hurt or not? You didn’t call and check on her? And where was my son when all of this was happening?”

  She started rambling about Ryan, saying he’d handle it and giving one excuse after another on why she hadn’t checked on Savannah.

  “She’s so uppity, and I don’t know how to come at her, Dre. I mean, I’m warming up to her, but she’s kinda too bourgeois with the proper etiquette stuff and all. Well, until you make her mad, which seems kinda easy to do because she had Tasha soaking in gravy. Savannah really doesn’t seem like your—”

  “Mama Dee,” I said, cutting her rambling off, “where was my son at when his mama and my fiancée started fighting?”

  “He was at the table when it first started, but Ryan scooped him up and took him to his room before the fight broke out. By the time Ryan had him situated and came back, he had to help me break it up. I mean, all my good dishes and glasses are all broken up.”

  I told my mama I had to talk to her later because I needed to call Ryan and then check on Savannah. I called Ryan, and his phone went straight to voicemail. That wasn’t like him not to answer, so I called him again. The phone rang several times, but he didn’t answer. He called me back an hour later.

  “What’s up, Dre? I was at the range with Savannah and didn’t hear my phone ringing.”

  What the fuck was he doing at the range with Savannah on a Wednesday? He never mentioned he was going back down to Georgia to check on her when we talked Friday. Something wasn’t adding up.

  “You didn’t hear your phone ringing? The first time I called, it went to voicemail, like you sent me to voicemail.” I knew I sounded like I was accusing him, but if he were innocent, he wouldn’t respond like he was guilty.

  “My service fades in and out here. What’s up? I know you counting down now. What you got left in there, about two weeks?”

  “One week and six days, but you supposed to keep that on the low. I don’t want Savannah knowing I’m getting out. I thought I told you that. What are you doing in Atlanta anyway? Mike is supposed to be watching her until I get out.”

  “Mike, you know how he be doing his thing and stuff. Busy working and not working.” He mumbled around in search of words. The only thing he managed to say clearly was, “Savannah isn’t around me at the moment. I mean, we both are at the gun range, but you know how they separate the shooters, so we won’t accidentally shoot each other.”

  Ryan has never had a problem with talking. I didn’t know what was going on, but I was going to get to the bottom of it.

  “Aye, Ryan, let me call you right back. My bunkie need to call his lawyer before he leaves for the day.”

  I hung up the phone and called Savannah. She was cussing me out before I could get a word out.

  “So, now you want to remember you’re engaged. You changed your fucking number, didn’t give it to me, then call me over a week later like the shit is okay. Did you hear about your ghetto, blue-hair-having-ass baby mama pouring brown gravy all over me at your mama’s house? Ryan wouldn’t let me get to that bitch, but I’m sure my steak knife did. Why would your mama invite her over while I was there? That was messy as fuck of your mama. Just when I tried to give her project ass a chance, she pulls some shit like that on me, and I know she did the shit on purpose because she hasn’t tried to call me yet. I’m done trying to get to know your mama’s sorry—”

  “Aye, don’t say shit else about Mama, Savannah! Watch your motherfucking mouth when it comes to that one right there.” I knew she was mad, and she had every reason to be, but I couldn’t sit back and let her go in on my mama. That was still my mama.

  “Oh, I forgot, you’s a mama’s boy. A big country, project-descending mama’s boy,” she snapped back at me, mad as hell.

  “I don’t have nothing to do with being a mama’s boy. It’s about respect.”

  “Why are you always getting on me about respect, Dre, when nobody you have around me or want me to meet is showing me none?”

  “What do you mean by nobody around you? Where the fuck is Mike, and why is Ryan there with you?” I didn’t know what else to say to get her to change the subject, but that seemed to work.

  “Mike had to... Well, Mike went back to Nashville because he felt I was able to protect myself now. Ryan came back because he... He wanted to teach me some other self-defense stuff that he didn’t have time to show me before he left. I thought you would prefer me being around Ryan because he trained you. I just want to be trained by the best, that’s all.”

  She was lying, and I could hear it in her voice. She went from mad to nerves too fast, and although I do think she is a little bipolar, her mood shifted too quickly. If this bitch was fucking Ryan, I’d kill them both. Instead of letting her know what I really thought, I pretended to believe the story and go along with it.

  “Aw, is that right? So, Ryan is teaching you some new stuff? Sounds good to me. Are you okay, though? You didn’t get hurt or anything at my mama’s house, did you?”

  I really didn’t give a fuck at that moment if she was hurt or not. Something didn’t feel right, but I didn’t know what it was yet. I stayed on the phone with her for another five minutes listening to her side of what had happened between her and Tasha.

  “I’m okay, but that girl is crazy. Why would your mama let her be there when we were meeting for the first time? It should have been about getting to know me and letting me spend time with your son alone.”

  “You’re right, baby, and I’m going to call and check my mama on that.”

  When I couldn’t take any more of her whining, I told her I had promised my bunkie I’d let him call his family tonight, but that I’d call her back tomorrow.

  If I wanted to know the truth, I knew where I’d have to get it. I called Mike, but he didn’t answer. I’d expected him not to. He didn’t know my number, and with the little bit of drugs he pushed, he wasn’t answering numbers he wasn’t familiar with, so I left him a message. It took a whole week for him to call me back. At first, he seemed uninterested in talking to me. Then I asked why he had left Savannah alone in Atlanta.

  “Man, homie, all I’m going to say is that bitch ain’t the right one for you, and that’s coming to you from my heart. I know you were going to pay me but keep your money. I couldn’t babysit that ho. She didn’t deserve the protection.”

  That wasn’t like Mike to turn down money. I offered him $50,000 to protect Savannah until I touched down. That’s more than he has ever seen at one time in his life. He was going to have to tell me what was really up.

  “Come on, Mike. You of all people know me better than that. We’ve been down for too long for you to be biting your tongue. Tell me what I need to know about my bitch.”

  “Man...” he held the ending sound of the word so long that it turned into a hum. “Your girl is a ho. I found out she was fucking some Jamaican nigga down there named Amir. Dude said they had been off and on for some years. She would dip off before I’d make it to her job to pick her up after work, and she’d stay gone overnight. After a while, she stopped hiding the shit and even came home with roses the nigga brought her. I couldn’t sit there and let that bitch play you like that, my nigga, so I packed my shit and jumped on the Greyhound to Nashville. I promised the bitch I wouldn’t tell you shit, but you know you my boy, and I can’t hide shit from you.”

  Something about Mike’s words sounded practiced, but this was my best friend, and he wouldn’t lie to me.

  “It went down like that?”

  “Look, I got the nigga telephone number. Why don’t you call and talk to him so when you confront that ho, you ain’t gotta mention me at all? I don’t owe her ass shit, but she’s a cutthroat bitch, and she knows I push a little weight. I ain’t
trying to go to jail because she’s mad at you.”

  “Damn,” was all I could say. I wrote down dude’s number so I could call him next, but I had to ask one more question before I hung up the phone with Mike.

  “Do you think something is going on between Ryan and Savannah?”

  There was no hesitation in his answer, and he seemed positive that what he was saying was true.

  “If they ain’t fucked yet, they’re about to. That bitch has him brainwashed and wrapped around her finger. I told you I ain’t never trusted the nigga.”

  The shit was finally making sense to me. My mama said Ryan was quick to snatch Savannah up and leave, saying he had her. When I called Ryan, he was mumbling and shit about why he was back in Atlanta with Savannah, and when I asked her about it, she lied and came up with some self-defense training shit. If she really had been playing me again, I’d kill her and Ryan’s nonloyal ass too.

  I was mad that I had put all my trust in him and had given him my release date. I couldn’t pop up on them, because he’d be expecting me. I’ve known Mike for years, but I trusted Ryan more than I had ever trusted Mike, and look how he let me down. If he hadn’t already lain down with Savannah, he was close to it, and I still had a week and six days to go. The thought of losing a good friend over a bitch had me feeling like my world was closing in, and I needed to talk to the only true friend I had. Mama Dee.

  “Mama, have you ever gave somebody your all over and over again, just to watch them shit on you every single time?”

  “Andre, you’re talking to your mother. What’s going on, baby?”

  “It’s been a lot, more than any man should have to take or put up with just to love a woman.”

  “I hear you talking, son, but you still haven’t said a word.”