A Big Girl's Revenge

by Ms. Michel Moore

  “What you trying to say? I know you ain’t saying I’m trapped in this son of a bitch like some fucking prisoner on death row.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “You stupid.”

  “Naw, Keisha, you the stupid one. I’m a grown man, and you standing your dumb ass here asking me why I’m going out.”

  “Oh, it’s like that?” Keisha took a couple of steps back before Rico knocked her over, grabbing for his boots. “All I do is work and try to hold you and us down, and you back to running around like you ain’t got no woman. How grown-ass man is that?”

  Rico laughed, slipping his T-shirt over his head. “Damn, girl. Maybe I might send you back home for some training. You talking like some old hood rat now.”

  “Is that right?” She planted her hands on her hips.

  “Hell yeah. You always been ugly as a fuck, but at least you was kinda smart.”

  “Damn.”

  “Yeah, damn is right. So dig this: instead of sweating me and where I’m headed, why don’t you pick up a book or something? Get your fucking mind right.”

  “If you leave out that door—”

  “If I leave out that door what? Are you threatening me again?” Rico cuffed her up real quick, rushing her toward the wall. “Okay, Keisha, you want the old me back? Well, here the fuck I am. Enjoy the ride.” With that being said, he let her go, grabbed his keys, and walked out, leaving the door wide open.

  Keisha was once again left looking dumb as a fuck. It was no doubt about it she was one of those silly females her and Kim used to talk cash shit about back in the day. Her self-respect and self-esteem couldn’t get any lower. It was like she was watching some sad-ass movie or a soap opera.

  Wanting to make amends with her once-best-friend Kim and hopefully get some advice on getting out of this relationship with Rico once and for all, Keisha dialed her number. After a few attempts, she realized either Kim’s cell was turned off or she was being sent straight to voicemail. Whatever the situation was, Rico’s forever victim desperately left at least three heartfelt messages. Curling up with a blanket on the couch, looking just as messy as any rat in the hood could, Keisha prayed Kim would return her pleas for help.

  * * *

  “Why this stupid girl keep calling me?” Kim mumbled underneath her breath. Shaking her head in disbelief in who and what her childhood BFF had become, she continued to shop at one of the many Somerset Mall stores she’d been hitting up hard over the past few months for a forever-updating wardrobe. Strangely, she’d been losing weight and attributed it to missing her friend.

  “I know I’m more than out cold for some of the stuff I’ve been doing this past year, but damn, at least I’m getting money behind the bullshit,” Kim reasoned for the grimy ultimate betrayal she’d been secretly participating in. “And now Keisha leaving messages. Probably about how that bastard been dogging her some more and she still won’t stop fucking with him. She crazy.”

  An hour or so later, the mall was near closing, and Kim headed toward valet parking. Waiting for the attendant to bring her vehicle to the door, Kim finally listened to Keisha’s messages.

  Damn, this time it seems like she means it, but knowing her, this is just another time he dogged her out and she feeling momentarily lonely.

  “Who knows?”

  Kim got in her car and headed back toward the city. While she was driving, a song came on the radio that she and Keisha used to ride to. Feeling temporarily guilty, she picked up her phone, calling Keisha’s father. If he was in a good mood, maybe, just maybe, he could be reasoned with and persuaded to forgive his child.

  Three rings in, a more-than-familiar voice answered.

  “Yes, hello, Commissioner Jackson’s phone. How can I help you?”

  “Excuse me?” Kim was more than shocked to hear Robin’s voice on the line.

  “Yes, I said Commissioner Jackson’s phone. Is there something I can help you with?”

  “Robin?”

  “Yes, this is Robin. And who is this may I ask?”

  “You know who in the hell this is. Look, Miss Thang, put him on the phone,” Kim demanded with a serious attitude. “What you doing answering his personal line anyway? You doing too fucking much.”

  “I’m sorry, but the commissioner is indisposed at the present. Is there anything I can help you with?” By the caller ID, Robin knew it was Kim, Keisha’s best friend, and started to act extra with it. “Any messages or requests?”

  “Okay, Robin, you sneaky little bitch. I don’t know why you have his cell or what you trying to prove, but whatever the case is, I’ll call him back later. It’s very important I speak to him tonight.”

  “Not a problem.” She giggled, further adding fuel to the fire. “And I’ll make double sure to not tell him that you called with your fake very important matter.” Robin sneered as she terminated the call. Smug in her position, still down at the hospital on a hopeful death watch of her boss’s wife, Robin went back to daydreaming what her life could soon be.

  * * *

  Rico had no remorse for the way he treated Keisha or any other female he encountered. It didn’t matter how fat or skinny, how tall or short, how cute or ugly—he dogged them all. The only factor he sometimes cared about was money. Even he’d stand down for money if the price was right. But now in his mind, Keisha was about done in the money department. She was beginning to be way more of a liability to him instead of an asset. In between all the emotional bullshit and trying to get him to change who the fuck he was, Rico was about done with Keisha. He’d made up in his mind after tax time and he spent her refund check, he was gonna be out once and for all.

  “Hey, girl. What up, doe?” Rico smiled when Ocean pulled up in front of the Coney Island. “What took your ass so long? That nosey Arab Sam was getting on a nigga’s last nerve.”

  “Come on now, guy. Don’t play yourself. I said I was coming, so fall back.” Ocean wiped sweat from her forehead as Rico got in, shutting the car door. “Besides, I feel sick as a dog.”

  “What in the fuck you being sick got to do with me?” he callously replied, reclining the passenger seat. “I’m still trying to hit that pussy.”

  Pulling up at Ocean’s newly leased riverfront apartment, the pair went inside. Wishing he could get Ocean back under his spell, Rico grew jealous of his own son and all the new clothes and toys her new trick had purchased him. Turning on the sixty-inch LG flat-screen television mounted on the wall, Rico stripped down to his boxers. Ocean, feeling dizzy, went into the bathroom to throw up.

  “I’m feeling sick as a motherfucker.” She staggered out into the living room. “For the past week or so, a bitch been going through it.”

  “Oh, hell naw. Let me find out that duck you fucking with got you knocked up, or one of them lames from the club.”

  Ocean was definitely not in the mood to argue. “Look, fool, besides you and ole boy, I ain’t banging nobody raw dog, so.”

  “So it damn straight ain’t mine, so don’t try it.”

  “Boy, please.” Ocean managed to laugh. “Ain’t nobody trying to have another baby by your deadbeat ass. Trust me, if I was knocked up by you, I’d give that shit back to God with the quickness.”

  Fighting through her illness, Ocean and Rico fucked like wild animals, with him trying to prove a point that no nigga on the earth could take his place between her pussy. Ocean was in shivering chills when he finished.

  Barely able to stand, she got a text message from her “friend” that he wanted to stop by later that evening. Ocean found the hood-rat, chickenhead, on-the-prowl strength to drive Rico to the nearby Greektown Casino and drop his broke ass off.

  “Here’s cab fare, baby daddy. Do you. I’m ghost.” She mustered a smile before screeching off back to her apartment to change the sheets before her old trick got there.

  Knowing plenty of females that worked and also hung out at the casino, Rico headed inside, ready to make a night of it.

  Maybe I�
��ll call Swazy’s fake ass and see can he get up from under that pregnant slut of his! And fuck that whining ho Keisha! I’ll deal with her when I get back to the crib.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Here and The Now . . .

  “I can’t take this anymore. I’m done. I’m done. I swear for God I’m done. I’m not dealing with you or your nonsense anymore. We through.” Keisha tried to break loose but couldn’t. “I’m better than this. I’m better than you and everything you stand for, which is nothing!”

  “Shit, you tired? I’m tired of your damn mouth that never stops running,” Rico hissed, bending her back over the dresser as Kilo, tongue hanging out to the side, looked on. “I was gonna wait until April when you get them taxes back to stop dealing with your simple ass, but naw, I’m good. After this last hot nut in your back hole, trust me, I’m the one done. You can bounce. You can take your nasty ass back to your funny-looking mother and that wanna-be boss father of yours. You worn out anyway. I got another upgraded model begging to take your place. She’s slim, fat ass, and pretty as fuck in the face. I definitely gonna be glad to see you leave.”

  Who in the hell does he think he is? No matter how much of his ruthless and rotten garbage I accept, he always goes one step beyond that. Nothing he says or does shocks me anymore. He has no home training and it shows. But now he is gonna feel my wrath.

  Reaching her hand out for the can of oil sheen that was knocked over on the dresser, Keisha was fed up. She’d had enough of Rico’s Dexter-Linwood area mentality and everything that went with it.

  “Look, don’t say anything about my parents. If you weren’t so jacked-up in the head, you’d realize you just messed up the best thing that’s ever going to happen to you: me.”

  She suddenly twisted her body around, and Rico was left with his wet, shitty dick sticking straight out in the air. In the same movement, Keisha aimed the oil sheen directly at his face. Before Rico could prevent it, she sprayed the chemical-based mist directly into his eyes.

  “Urgggg!” he screamed out, pressing both hands to his face. “Keisha, I’m gonna kill you. I promise, you done really messed up this time. I’ma stump the blood outta your ass.”

  “I hate you, Rico. I hate you and everything about you. You ain’t worth a female like me, and I was mad stupid for allowing this to go on this long.” Keisha reached for an oversized bottle of perfume, and like she’d done with the statue, slammed it down across the rear of Rico’s head. Seeing him being dazed and temporarily blind, she seized the opportunity. Wasting no time, she grabbed her purse then shoes as he struggled to make it to the bathroom.

  As she attempted to run by him and out the front door, Rico snatched a hold of her blouse, ripping the sleeve.

  “Noooo! Get your freaking hands off me!” Raising her bare foot, Keisha kicked him square in the nuts. Knocking over a chair, she bolted toward the door as Kilo continued to bark.

  “You done lost your mind, you stankin’-pussy slut. I’m gonna fuck you up. On everything I love, I swear to God you dead.” Doubled over, with his shorts down to his ankles, he fell to the ground. Still a trooper, Rico made it to the sink, splashing handfuls of water up to his burning eyes. With the water still running, he got a washcloth and pressed it to the small gash on his head.

  When I catch up to Keisha, I’ma make her pay for all this.

  * * *

  At five twenty-six in the morning, the crackhead zombies had just gone in after prowling all night. The few working people in the nearly deserted neighborhood had yet to leave their homes. It was one of those kinda-quiet-in-the-hood times before the total evil of darkness turned to partial good of daybreak. Keisha took full advantage of the time, cutting through vacant lots without anyone seeing her. With every barefooted step Keisha took, she swiftly realized she had nowhere to go. Since dealing with Rico, she’d cut everyone off. Not bothering to take the time to put her shoes on, she felt the soles of her feet getting small cuts and abrasions. But that didn’t matter. At this point, she’d cut off both her feet and hands if that meant being away from that monster.

  Seeing the neon light from the Coney Island Restaurant flashing, Keisha headed in that direction. Glancing over her shoulder, she prayed Rico wouldn’t find her before she at least flagged a cab. Looking a hot ghetto mess, Keisha finally entered the deserted building.

  “Oh my God! What has happened to you?” Sam, the Arab owner, knew Keisha well enough to know something drastic had taken place. Every morning, he’d have her large cup of coffee, two sugars and two creams, waiting because she always seemed to be running late. In his eyes, Keisha wasn’t like the other hood customers he’d encounter daily. She had a good education and surprisingly knew a great deal about his Middle Eastern culture.

  The only thing Sam found puzzling was why Keisha kept company with a man as uncouth as Rico. He would see him parade all sorts of random females around when his “wifey” was at work. The evening before, he’d just seen him hop into a sports car with some young female. He’d also hear Rico talk about his woman like a piece of trash to all his friends. Shamefully, Sam had also seen nude pictures of Keisha, as well as the infamous dog video on Rico’s cell phone.

  “Sam! Sam! Please help me!” With shoes, purse, and a dead cell phone in her hands, she acted as if a monster were chasing her. And in her eyes, there was. Hysterical, Keisha broke down in tears. She didn’t know where she was going, but she knew she had to get out of the neighborhood and away from Rico. “Sam, can you please call me a cab? Please hurry!”

  “What is wrong, Ms. Keisha? Were you robbed? Why don’t you have your shoes on?” Sam, having a soft spot for her, took a chance unlocking the dead bolt on the bulletproof security door. “Come back here with me. I call police for you! Your nice blouse is ruined, too. Who do this thing to you? Where is your boyfriend?”

  Before Keisha could answer any of his many questions, Sam motioned that Rico was coming across the parking lot.

  “Oh, never mind. Here he is. I see him coming now by the alleyway.”

  “Oh, no, Sam, please hide me! Please! Please! Please!” Keisha ducked down underneath the counter merely seconds before an infuriated Rico entered the restaurant.

  “Yo, Sam. You seen Keisha? Did she come in here with her no-good ass?” He rubbed at both eyes, still trying to focus.

  Caught in the middle of what was obviously a domestic situation, Sam’s Islamic beliefs forbid him from keeping another man’s wife away from her husband; however, he knew Rico’s shady character and decided to lie.

  “Keisha? Umm . . . no, I have not seen her this morning. Maybe she got on bus already.”

  “That girl think I’m playing with her.” Rico sinisterly peered out the huge window, searching for any sign of his renegade girlfriend. “I’m gonna beat the hot piss outta her when I find that trick.... Spraying that bullshit in my goddamn eyes. Do my shit look red or what?”

  “Please calm down,” Sam begged, feeling Keisha’s hot breath blowing at his pants zipper, causing his heart rate to increase. “Yes, they are a little red, but maybe that’s from smoking the weed, huh?”

  Rico laughed at Sam’s last comment, but he was still on a mission to beat Keisha’s ass. He had no idea Keisha was perched down under the counter and continued airing his business out. “Yo, Sam, I should’ve traded that big-foot wildebeest in a long time ago. You done seen the type of top-notch females I usually fucks with sliding through here with me. If she wasn’t cashing a brother out so swell, I would’ve been sent her packing.”

  Squinting from the oil sheen still burning, Rico looked back out the window. Seeing there was still no sign of Keisha, he continued to dog her out. “Shit, but real rap, where I’ma find a tramp dumb as her, paying all the bills so I can have the next dime piece lay up with me while she at work? That bullshit is the American Dream. If she only knew how many females I done banged in our bed or on that couch. Hell, a nigga like me even had some of them bitches coming over cooking me breakfast as soon as Keisha went t
o work. She might think she’s book smart, but that be the ones who don’t have one clue about the streets.”

  “Man, that’s wrong,” Sam lectured, rubbing his long goatee. “Keisha is a good girl. A real good girl. You shouldn’t talk about her like that. She goes to work every day to help you and her. She is a good woman to you. You don’t deserve to have her. You better straighten up and love her correctly.”

  “Man, fuck Keisha. Fuck her entire existence. I’m the treat in that big girl’s pathetic life. You see, my sand nigga brother, I got that good dick that drives these bitches out here crazy. And she ain’t no different. As soon as I put this thang on her, she was my slave. And as for love, I never loved her ass. It was nothing but game from day one. I’d cry over losing my dog more than her. Like I said, fuck Keisha and everything about her. A mack like me out here trying to live my best life. Her tramp ass getting in the way of that, but I got her covered.”

  Rico’s words cut like a knife. It was one thing to speculate how someone felt about you, but to hear firsthand was another. The heartbreaking truth hit Keisha like a ton of bricks. She didn’t know what to say or what to do. She wanted to curse him out, but she knew it wouldn’t do any good. Knowing him, he’d probably just gain enjoyment out of knowing he’d hurt her even more. Stunned, she stared at Sam’s zipper and the seemingly huge bulge behind it. Listening to Rico unknowingly confess to all the dirt he’d done over the months, spitefully Keisha reached up, slowly pulling Sam’s zipper down.

  I hate him! I hate him! I hate his ass!

  With Rico just on the other side of the counter, Sam remained as quiet as possible as Keisha’s hand took out his beige-colored, pudgy, six-inch dick. Shifting his weight from foot to foot, his eyes twitched with excitement from her touch. Wanting to yell out in his native tongue, Sam glanced down just in time to see Keisha , with ease, throat-fuck his now rock-hard meat. A virgin when Rico met her, he’d taught Keisha the art of being a true freak of the week.

  Every word coming out Rico’s two-timing mouth pertaining to all his female conquests was met with Keisha slurping, slobbering, and licking Sam’s hookup. Having no panties on from earlier, she fingered herself, rocking to the beat of Rico’s cruel words.