“Sorry I took so long.” She got in my car, exhaling heavily.
“It’s okay.” I half smiled. Every time I saw her and that belly, it reminded me that I had no children with Paul and that Keira might. I started driving, and since it was quiet as she typed on her phone, I decided to speak. “Did you know Rahim was married?”
Camarih immediately began laughing, until she saw I wasn’t.
“Your Rahim? The Rahim that produces for Tony Wacko?”
“Yes, him. He’s married.”
“Are you sure? What bitch told you that? She’s probably just a hater,” Camarih assured me, making me titter.
“No, I heard it from his mouth. He was on the phone with her, and he told her he loved her, she was his wife, and he’d never cheat… something along those lines.”
“But he has been cheating… with you.”
“And the girl from Sephora.” I shook my head, feeling like I needed a whole new vagina after giving it to Rahim. Thankfully, we used protection, or I’d be ready to have my shit removed.
“I don’t even know what to say.” Camarih stared out of the front windshield as I pulled over in front of the studio.
It was dim outside, so the streetlights were beaming down onto my car and slightly on us.
“Me either. And he had the nerve to call me, constantly, after I witnessed him talking to his damn wife. I mean, do you know how many times he’s tried to become my boyfriend since Paul passed?”
“Something is wrong with him, like seriously.”
“Same thing I said. Nigga has to be slow or something by trying to pursue a serious relationship while he has a wife.” I shook my head, still in disbelief. And the fact that he called his wife his sister that one time at the bar and plenty through texts, disgusted me. I could only imagine how she felt at the moment if she knew just exactly what her husband had been doing.
“You coming?” Camarih was halfway out of the car.
“No. He might be in there.”
“True. I’m not gonna leave you, because people get shot up in cars a lot around here.” She reminded me, closing the door back.
That was so true, and I’d totally forgotten about it.
Camarih texted away, and about two minutes later, Tony emerged from the studio. His cologne hit us before he did, and he squatted down with the widest grin I’d ever seen when he laid eyes on Camarih. His smile was so warm despite him having such an evil face.
“Open this fucking door and give yo’ nigga some love.” He pecked her and stepped back, allowing her out of the car.
I stared into the street, trying to tune out their kisses and sweet nothings that they spoke to one another. All it did was make me miss my husband and in the same breath hate Rahim.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Camarih said once she was back in the car with me. Tony was now squatting down again to be eye level with us.
“What question, Camarih?” His voice was filled with irritation, so he knew what she was talking about.
“Houston, I asked if your loser friend was inside, because if not, we were gonna come in.”
“Yeah that nigga here; we work together.” He ran his hand over his hair. “You can bring yo’ ass in. Ain’t like cuz gon’ bother you.” He looked to me.
“Umm, that’s what you think. No thanks.” I put my hand up.
“Why this hoe stay with a fucking attitude like she won’t get the fucking treatment?” he spat, making me unbuckle my seat belt.
“Houston.” Camarih hurriedly opened the door to get out. I watched her whisper in his ear before returning and closing the door back.
Looking through the window at me, as I sat there fuming, he said, “My apologies, Shanece. You want some tacos? They from a couple fucking hours ago, but them shits still hit.”
This nigga really knew nothing about being nice. Camarih and I both couldn’t help but to laugh as he waited for my answer.
“No, but I appreciate it. I’m sorry for giving you the hand,” I let him know.
“You straight. On some real shit, come inside.” He rose up, so I could no longer see his face because he was too tall.
“No, we’re gonna go back home.”
“Come in real quick.” He tapped Camarih’s shoulder, ignoring what she said.
My eyes landed on his hand adjusting his dick in those gray sweats, and I had to promptly look away. I hated his ass, kind of, so the sight of his bulge etched in my head was a problem! His rude ass was surely blessed. No wonder these women let him talk crazy.
“No. I wanna talk to my friend, not fall asleep on her.” Camarih giggled, catching on to why he wanted her to come in.
“Bring yo’ ass.” He opened the door, helping her out, so she waved for me to join her.
Blowing out hot air, I climbed from my car, locked the doors, and followed them inside. We went down the hall, before Tony escorted Camarih into some side room.
I had to pee, so I was going to go handle that. After relieving myself, I washed my hands, surveying the bathroom and how clean and nice it was. It had surely been renovated, so one would never think they were in the hood.
As soon as I got into the hallway, I heard Camarih’s whimpers, making me laugh at her ass before distancing myself from the room. I shut my eyes with a disgusted frown, hoping to get the sight of Tony’s dick hardening in those sweats out of my head.
“Aye—” Rahim walked out to call Tony, I guess, but paused when he saw me. “Shanece.”
“Don’t even think about it.” I shook my head, arms folded.
He looked rough, like he’d been going through it, but I could still see he was handsome.
“Listen, I wanna apologize.”
“For?” I raised a brow.
“For lying to you about my situation. I was tripping when I did that, and because I liked you so much, I panicked.”
“You liked me more than you loved your wife?” I asked, and the shock in his eyes let me know he wasn’t prepared for that question.
“Nah, I wouldn’t say that. I just—”
“So then what possessed you to keep her a secret? I liked you too, but damn sure not enough to pretend my husband was my brother. That’s some weirdo shit.”
Rahim chuckled angrily as he looked off, shaking his head.
“I admit, it was foul. That’s why I’m saying I’m sorry. And everything I told you, regarding how I feel about you, was true.”
“Well I can’t say the same.” I shrugged. “I had feelings for a single man, not a married liar.”
“You were married, too, while fucking me, so quit playing innocent!”
WHAP!
I’d never in my life slapped someone as hard I’d slapped him. My hand was stinging, so I knew his face was too.
“Yes, I was married, but I told you that! Not once did I ever pretend like my husband didn’t exist or that he wasn’t a factor! You had every intention on making me your woman and me never having known you had a wife! And then when I wanted to get married, then what, Rahim? And don’t say you were gonna divorce her, because you never were, and you never will.”
“You right.” He nodded. “I got feelings for y’all both. No, I don’t want to divorce her, but she’s gonna divorce me anyway. So—”
“Whoa!” I laughed. “I hope you’re not telling me this so we can rekindle or something.”
I could tell that he was, because his expression changed.
“I mean, that was the only obstacle.”
“Let me ask you, Rahim; would you marry a woman who hid her husband from you, told you he was her brother, and then tried to keep you both until it blew up in her face? Then add to that, admitted she wanted to stay married to him, but since he wanted to break up, she would agree to divorce?”
He was silent, trying long as hell to prolong that ‘no’.
“Maybe I would if I knew she felt strongly for me like I do for you.”
“What makes me so different from Amara?”
“What you
mean?”
“What makes me different, as in how do I know you won’t find another Shanece once you’re my husband?”
“How I know you won’t find another Rahim?”
“Exactly, nigga. However, I’m not the one trying to be together.” I started to leave, but he grabbed me. “Get off me!”
“Shanece, come on—”
“Rahim, as long as you’re the man I was with while my husband was dying, I can never be with you.” I spoke to him truthfully. “I liked you, but not enough for all of the memories and your lies not to matter.”
I was being honest. I enjoyed Rahim and did have feelings for him, but they weren’t deep enough for me to be dealing with him having a whole damn family, and me trying to get over the fact that I was fucking him while Paul was dying like a hoe. His face reminded me of a really bad time, and the feelings I had for him didn’t trump that.
“So we done, for good?” he asked as I stepped outside.
“Yeah. I don’t hate you, but how you did your wife was a humongous turn off. And how I did my husband should be one for you. Have a good life.”
Right when I said that, Tony and Camarih came from the room. As they did their thing, I went to my car and waited for a few minutes before Camarih joined me.
“He bothered you, huh? I am so sorry, Shanece.” Camarih spoke as soon as I cranked up.
“He did, but I’m okay. I actually got to say what I wanted to say to him, so I think it was good. The nigga had the nerve to say his wife wants a divorce, like that was supposed to make me jump into his arms.”
“Yeah, every woman wants to know her man is only with her because his first choice threw in the towel.”
“Exactly! Why the fuck are men so stupid?” I shook my head, driving to the freeway for Kitchen 24.
“No idea. I mean, Houston is stupid as far as he sometimes doesn’t know what he can and can’t do while in a relationship.”
I laughed.
“I can totally see that.”
“He posted on his story the other night, of him pouring Hennessy in a glass that was sitting on a stripper’s ass.”
I chortled loudly as hell. He was so incredibly ghetto.
“And he thought that was okay?” I frowned, still chuckling.
“Yes. Talking about it was an experiment, and he didn’t touch her, only the glass.”
My side was hurting from cracking up, and when I glanced over at Camarih, she was grinning hard.
“What?” I let my laughter slowly dissipate.
“It’s nice to see you laugh.”
“It’s nice to laugh.”
We listened to music, rapping along when Megan Thee Stallion and a few other female rappers came on, making the ride to Kitchen 24 seem short.
Camarih and I asked to be seated in the back once we got there and promptly ordered our food. We were both in the mood for breakfast.
“Remember the girl I beat up at the burger place?”
“How could I forget?” Camarih chuckled, taking down some of her juice.
“Well she told me she’s pregnant… by Paul.”
“What? How? How did he even have the time?”
“Girl, I don’t know. I kind of don’t believe her, because I just know deep down, he’d never do that to me, but then I’m sure he thought the same of me.”
“Yeah.” Camarih looked off for a moment. It was kind of loud in the dimly lit restaurant, but it worked in our favor because we could talk freely. “I’m so sorry, Shanece. I know this is a lot for you.” Like always, she pulled me into a hug.
Although tears were welling in my eyes, I smiled as she rubbed my back.
“Yeah.”
“But,” she pulled me away from her, “this will all blow over, especially the stuff with Rahim. I don’t believe Keira’s ass either, and I don’t even like the Paul I met. You’re beautiful, so I have no doubt you will marry again and have lots of babies.”
“Where did the babies comment come from?” I dabbed my eyes.
“I see the way you look at my belly. I know you wanted one with Paul, and I wish you’d gotten one, but your baby with your new husband will be just as much a blessing.”
“How are you always so positive yet date Tony Wacko?”
“Leave my baby alone.” She laughed, so I joined her. “He’s actually very sweet in his own way. Just two nights ago, he massaged my feet and then ate me out so I could sleep well.”
“TMI!” I frowned, sending her into a fit of laughter.
I could always count on Camarih to make me feel better. I guess it was true that sometimes friends could cure sadness.
Eitan Wright
“Damn, nigga, how many more drinks?” the homie Abel asked as the hostess at the club handed me the shit I’d ordered.
“However fucking many I need.” I tossed the double shot of Patrón back before taking a big ass gulp of the Hennessy.
“You know you got a studio session tomorrow afternoon, right? If you fuck up them rhymes, Wack—”
“Fuck Wacko,” I spat, making Abel frown deeply. “I ain’t mean that shit. I’m just irritated. Let me take my ass home.” I rose, feeling drunk as a muthafucka.
After I caught Rubie’s ass with her ex nigga, all I liked to do was drink. I wished I could lay up at the crib and do it, but not only was Holli still at my shit, but I was being worked like a damn slave.
If I wasn’t at the studio, I had rehearsals or some new shit for promo. And now Wacko was talking about going on a tour.
I needed a fucking break to keep my thoughts together, but at the same time, I didn’t wanna lose the steam I’d created for my career.
“Yeah, do that. And make sure yo’ ass is in the studio and on time, nigga!” Abel called out to me.
I threw the deuces over my shoulder as I left out, ignoring the females grabbing on me and calling my name. Usually I would’ve been happy to indulge, but Rubie’s ass had me all messed up.
I’d been racking my brain ever since I caught her ass cheating, trying to understand how she would fuck with that nigga over me. All the shit I did for her ass and actually treated her like something, yet she wanted a broke nigga. Maybe she was one of them females who enjoyed muthafuckas she had to take care of.
Soon as I got in my whip, I sped home, being extra cautious as I did because I was gone.
Once I got to my crib, I parked then went into my text message conversation with Rubie. She’d been hitting me, trying to talk, but I never responded. I didn’t have shit to say, and honestly, my ego was bruised as fuck.
Locking my phone, I headed up inside to drink some water.
“It’s almost one a.m.,” a soft voice that belonged to Holli called out.
Since she came home from jail, it was like she was a different person, but I knew this shit was a facade. She was extra nice, especially because I was fucking her all the time now. And shit, because she was back recording, we were attached at the hip damn near, so she was in heaven.
“And?” I quizzed, putting my glass in the sink and leaving the kitchen to get to my bedroom.
She followed me, of course, and began helping me out of my clothes once we were in there.
“Me and the baby missed you.” She smiled, hugging my torso. “Mainly me.”
I looked down into Holli’s face for a couple moments, wondering if I could actually make this shit work. She was pretty and would only look better once her teeth got work. She was allegedly having my baby, and the pussy was great. Only downside was that she was crazy, and that she wasn’t Rubie.
“Oh yeah?” I pecked her, backing her to the bed.
I peeled her clothes off and laid her back, spreading her legs using my own leg. She was already knocked up, so getting up in this shit raw was no issue.
“Ohh,” she cooed, staring up into my eyes as she locked her ankles around me.
She was wetter than usual, being pregnant, and it was phenomenal.
Pressing my palms into the bed, I hammered her shit as she
cried my name, not slowing up even when I felt her pussy leaking down onto the bed.
“Got damn.” I groaned, breathing heavily and building up a sweat.
“I love you, E,” she whispered in between moans.
I kept fucking her as hard as I could, until finally I let off inside of her. I was out of breath like a muthafucka, so we stayed in position as I continued to pant heavily, thoughts running through my mind at a mile a minute. I was fucking sick of Rubie invading my thoughts, especially at a damn time like this.
Holli and I went to clean up, then returned to bed to lie down.
“Wednesday, I have an appointment.” She laid her head on my chest.
“For what?”
“The baby, Eitan. My doctor wants to take a look since she hasn’t been able to yet. I found out I was pregnant in jail.”
“Oh.”
“So you should come. I think we can find out the sex, but she said she needs to check me out before she can be sure.”
“Holli, how you really know if this damn baby is mine?” I had to ask.
I wasn’t trying to be blowing my damn money, going to appointments, and whatever the fuck else dads did, only to find out some nigga from around the way was the daddy. That shit would make me go Tony Wacko and slap her ass around.
“Who else was I fucking, Eitan? You know what, forget it.” She started to get out of the bed, but I grabbed her arm to stop her.
“Let me know the time so I can be there.”
After processing what I’d said, she laid back down next to me.
“Okay. Thank you.”
The conversation between us was over with, so once she dozed off, Rubie was back on my mind… again.
Getting up, I grabbed my phone from my jeans then went straight to the living room. Opening Instagram, I checked Rubie’s page, tapping the last photo she uploaded. She looked good and way too normal for us to be on the outs. Then again, she was with the nigga she really loved, so I guess it wasn’t shit for her to be sad about.
A comment from a random nigga caught my eye. He’d told her how fine she looked, and she replied with one of them kissy faces. I stared at that shit for the longest before locking my phone up and heading to bed.
She Gave Her All to the Hood’s Finest 3 Page 4