5. Quasim
Quasim
Past
Her hands held onto her coffee mug as her misty eyes avoided mine, and I leaned against the counter. The ticking of the wall clock that Gams had gifted for our housewarming sounded as we were both at a standstill.
Tick…
Tock…
The shit was driving me up the wall as I stared at Cherie, and she did everything to avoid eye contact with me. She, too scared to speak and me – too angry to form the correct words. I, more than anyone, knew how much words hurt, and you couldn’t take them back once they were out there.
Harley was in her bedroom down for a nap, and we both knew raising our voices was out the question. The minute any of us raised our voices, she would be up, searching our eyes to see if the love was still there for each other. My baby girl was such an empath.
I always wondered where she got it from, and Gams said it was from me. Said I had been the same way when I was her age. Always attuned with everyone else’s emotions and never my own. It was a gift and curse that I hated having, because I felt things ten times more than the average person.
Something that someone else would shake off, it wasn’t that easy for me. I got caught up on the smallest shit that shouldn’t have mattered. I hated feeling at times, because it made me feel like a weaker man for it.
“You want me to be cool with you going to visit his mother and then running into him?” I finally had gotten my words together and was able to ask her.
My tone was low, barely audible, but she heard me loud and clear as if I yelled it with a blow horn. Cherie put the mug down and finally looked at me, her straight hair pinned on top of her head.
The blonde highlights mixed with her naturally sandy brown hair. Cherie had thick curly hair, but she preferred to keep her hair straightened, which she had for most of our relationship. The only time I got the privilege of seeing her hair curly was if it was a wash day. Before I could run my hand through her hair, she was already blow drying it and putting heat on it with the flat iron.
“She was sick, Quasim. What did you expect me to do? Act like I didn’t know her or something?”
I looked at my sneaker, still with the sock pulled over the front of the shoe. “That’s exactly how I want you to act.”
“Now you get to decide who I can and cannot talk with? His mother didn’t do anything, and she has always been respectful.” Cherie had this thing where she pushed my buttons and for a while, I used to enjoy it.
Whenever she showed defiance, I would bend her ass over and fuck the shit out of her until she fell in line. It was a game we played; she loved when I took control, and I needed to be in control. As time went on, I stopped liking the defiance because the shit she was doing was coming down on me. It wasn’t cute to have niggas looking at you like you couldn’t handle your woman.
I came from a line of real niggas that held down the streets and their home, never skipping a beat. I was raised by a real nigga that handled his business but made it home to tell his kids and wife he loved them before heading back out there.
My mother knew what she signed up for when she got with my father. Knew what was expected of her, and she held him down. He never had to question if she was doing funny shit because she wasn’t. Mina Inferno was his rock, the woman that carried his last name along with his children.
He could trust her without a doubt, and I was having trouble doing the same when it came to Cherie. Loyalty couldn’t be split between two sides, and she was desperately trying to show me that it could, and it was making her look bad.
“My Pops shouldn’t tell me what my fucking girl is doing and who he saw her with.”
“Your father is watching me because he doesn’t trust me, Quasim. What part don’t you understand when it comes to that? Even after having your baby, living together, and being together, Quinton Inferno doesn’t trust me.”
“Do you not see why the fuck he doesn’t trust you, Cherie?”
She paused as she got down from the stool. “Fuck you, Quasim. If you don’t trust me then why are you with me? To prove a point to Rich? To show him that you got the prize and you’re not giving it up.”
“I don’t have to prove shit. Not when the prize wants a different winner.”
She cut her eyes at me and walked over toward the sink, sitting her mug inside. “I asked you if my past was going to be a problem… you said it wouldn’t. Here we are with a home, child, and Rich is still a problem. Just admit you are jealous, Sim.”
Cherie loved to flip shit back on me. It was her that was caught visiting Rich’s mom and having lunch with him. Yet, she was flipping this around on me, and trying to use the insecure card on me, when I was very secure. I knew Rich didn’t bring shit that I did to the table.
It was the reason he hid behind the Chrome Vipers, never tough enough to stand tall with them. He was better hiding behind them and whispering the shots. Rich thought he was that nigga, until I showed him who was really that nigga. I wore that Inferno flame on my vest proudly and rode behind my father with my head held high. There was no whispering shit, we were the niggas that were yelling the shots and stood on that shit.
I pinned her between the sink and counter. “You just be saying shit, huh? Why would I ever be jealous of that nigga when you in my bed, begging to choke on my dick, Cherie… it’s not jealousy, it’s called fucking respect and yo disrespectful ass don’t have any.”
“Oh, because I should carry myself like your mother… according to your father. I am not Mina, and I’m not about to run around acting like her. You fell in love with me because I wasn’t a yes woman… didn’t march to your beat.”
I shook my head because she thought she knew Mina Inferno and she had no idea who that woman was. My mother may have been fly by night, and always forgetting shit, but she was the same woman that got on the back of her husband’s bike, and she let that shit go for him.
She’s taken a life before, when it came to Quinton Inferno. Cherie was so bull headed that she mistook submission for being walked all over. My mother was submissive to my father because he provided and had gained her trust. She knew that he was going to lead, and he would never lead her wrong.
I looked down at her and she finally lifted her eyes and stared up into mine. “Why the fuck you with me Cherie? If this life ain’t what you want… you don’t want a man that leads, why the fuck we doing this?”
The question caught her by surprise as she choked on her words and tried to search my eyes to see if I was serious. She needed to know if the words that had left my mouth was true, and if I meant it.
I did.
“Is that the reason we’re not married, Quasim? Because I won’t fall in line, and become this woman that goes along with everything that you say? I have my own mind and thoughts… never been me, Boo.”
I removed myself from her because she pushed away from me. “Oh, Word.”
“He called me, Quasim. I’m still close to the family, and he was really messed up. Me and his sister were friends… what did you want me to do? Hang up the phone on him because me and you are together. You have me, Baby… I gave you a daughter. If that isn’t making you secure in this relationship, I don’t know what will.”
I laughed.
Cherie rolled her neck as she looked at me. “Is something funny to you?”
“Yeah… you.”
With her arms folded, she looked up at me. “What is exactly funny to you, Quasim Inferno? We’re having a serious conversation, and you think the shit is funny.”
Every time some shit went left in Rich’s life, he used it as an excuse to call Cherie. Because she felt guilty for the way she and his sister’s friendship ended, she allowed the nigga to guilt her into being there for the family. I been told her she needed to block his number and move the fuck on. Whatever friendship Rich thought they had ended the minute she decided to be my girl, have my baby, and remain in my life.
Cherie was too good in the heart, and it was the reason I had fallen for her. She always showed up for people, even if they didn’t deserve the shit. I could see how conflicted she was when it came to being there for Rich’s family because she said his mother always looked out for her, however, the shit was getting tiring and I was tired of her always running for that nigga, especially because I knew he was calling her on purpose.
I didn’t give a fuck if his mother was giving birth to fucking ET, that wasn’t Cherie’s business, and she was having trouble understanding that. This was the conflict that we continued to have, and we were no closer to a resolution because we both were stubborn, and didn’t want to fold.
It was the reason my Pops gave me shit about Cherie. He didn’t trust her because of her ties with Rich and those Chrome Vipers. I was tired of having to defend her ass and she went and turned around and embarrassed me by doing some shit like this.
When Pops pulled up on me on the block, I could tell from his face that he had some shit to say. He loved his granddaughter but wouldn’t trust her mother as far as he could throw her, which wasn’t far at all. All it took was for him to tell me that he saw Cherie having lunch with Rich in Philly.
How he happened to know where my girl was, and I didn’t, was a bitter pill to swallow. I prided myself on always being in control. Always knowing what the fuck Cherie was into, without being controlling. I gave her space because I trusted her.
I got real close to her ear, so close that my beard rubbed against her ear, sending a soft moan out of her mouth. Her body always betrayed her when it came to me, which is why she left corny ass Rich for me in the first place. He could never get her body started without even touching her.
Just my voice alone got her pussy wet, and that was something that nigga could never relate to when it came to my woman.
“You live in my house, you pushed my daughter out that pussy, so you belong to me, Cherie. I’m done having this fucking conversation with you. End whatever the fuck friendship you think you have and focus on what’s in this house, because I take care of you, no?”
“It’s not always abo ? —”
“Do I fucking take care of you, Cherie?” I ignored whatever she was about to say and repeated myself, so she knew I wasn’t playing with her today.
“Yes, Quasim.”
“You’re able to be a mother to our daughter, right? Don’t have to worry about punching a clock or dropping her to daycare, right?” I gently stroked her neck as she stared up into my eyes.
“You already know the answer to my question.”
Picking her up, I put her up on the counter while my hand remained around her neck, not squeezing it, just resting peacefully. “Don’t I fuck you and only you. You never have to worry about another bitch talking about yo dick, right?”
“Never.”
“Then end whatever he thinks you have going on or I’m going to make sure the next time he reaches out, his mom is fucking dead, Cherie.”
I released my hand from around her neck and pressed my lips to her temple while she stared at me seductively. Cherie was a freak and loved when I choked her ass while I was hitting it. Anything with pain, and she was down for the shit.
“I never know what to say when he calls like that, Sim. He guilts me and then I feel bad, and feel like I owe him because his mother was always there for me,” she confessed.
I held her around the waist and stared into her eyes. “If this is where you want to be, then you need to make it clear to that nigga… make him see that you have a life now, and it doesn’t include him.”
She kissed my lips. “She’s napping… we have time,” she cooed, she tried to lift my shirt over my head, and I chuckled while stepping back.
“End shit with your ‘friend’ and then we can discuss me dropping this shit off in you. If not, then you gonna be going from the hospital to a funeral home to say goodbye to son-son’s mama.”
“Sim,” she whimpered. “You cannot possibly want to harm his family because they still want me around… I don’t believe it. Refuse to believe it, actually.”
“Sooner than later, you won’t have to refuse to believe it… you’ll see the shit in your face, Cherie.” I grabbed my keys, just as Harley’s whines could be heard. “I got some shit to handle with my Pops… see you later.”
“You gonna give me some tonight, Sim?”
I smirked at her. “Nah, Cherie… you was just talking all that big shit… stand on that.” She flipped her middle finger at me and rolled her eyes.
She remained on the counter watching me as I grabbed my helmet and headed out the door. Cherie knew I didn’t give empty threats, so if she wanted to keep her friend alive, then she better had told him to move around. I can promise Rich didn’t want the reason she came around to be her attending his mama’s funeral before she was shoved in a pine box.
A trip to Baltimore wasn’t exactly in my plans this week but fuck it. I’ve made plans for lesser things. I killed the engine of my bike in front of the office building downtown and checked my surroundings. Being here made me fucking itch.
A bunch of women and men in suits shuffling in and out the building and heading to court. As I rested my helmet on the seat, daring somebody to touch it, I made my way into the building. This meeting wouldn’t be long, and then I would be on my way.
I only had to make myself clear once, and that was exactly what I planned to do. After that, I wasn’t speaking anymore and whoever had to deal with the consequences of their actions. The receptionist looked up from her computer when I walked up to her desk.
“Good afternoon, do you have an appointment with us?”
“Something like that… Rich Parker.”
She typed something onto her computer, then looked up at me. “He doesn’t have anyone scheduled until around three… is this an emergency?”
“For him… yeah.” I replied, and she stared back at me, trying to decipher what that meant. Saving her the headache, I looked at my watch. “Where’s the bathroom?”
She nodded down the hall. “Down there to the left. I can call Mr. Parker and see if he’ll see you,” she smiled at me, finally showing me that she fucked with the kid.
“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll catch him another time, Beautiful.”
She flipped her shoulder length hair and blushed inwardly. “No problem…have a great day.” As the words left her mouth, the phone sounded, and I walked like I was going down the hall and hit the left to Rich’s shared office.
He worked in the district attorney’s office and still didn’t have no fucking pull. Knowing Rich, I knew he would turn lemons into lemonade. I wasn’t a hater and could admit that the nigga was going to make a way out of nothing.
I headed down the hall, dipping behind some woman that happened to be on the phone as she used her card to gain access into the part of the building with the offices.
“Clerk’s office?” I asked, pretending, when she turned to look at why I was coming behind her.
She shifted her phone to the other ear and smiled. “Down that way. I don’t know why they don’t give access passes for the clerk’s office.” I watched as she sucked her teeth and continued on with her conversation.
While she went right, I went left down the hall until I came across the shared room. A room filled with cubicles and other lawyers working. Reminded me of a damn law sweatshop with the way they were all working. I headed down the aisle of cubicles until I came across Rich’s name, and he wasn’t there.
I took a seat in his chair, looking at a picture of some Spanish chick. She seemed like she was older than him, but the kissy faces they were making in the picture let me know that she wasn’t a relative, and this was his bitch. I grabbed the Christmas picture of his parents and grandparents. They smiled at the camera, as Rich and his sister leaned down in front of them.
I kicked my boot up on the desk as one of his colleagues walked by, then back peddled until he was standing in the doorway of the cubicle. “Can I assist you?”
“Did I fucking ask for assistance?”
He was taken back by my response. “Excuse you?”
“I didn’t ask for your assistance… you’re fucking excused. Am I sitting at your desk?” I coolly asked as he started to scratch around the collar of his shirt. “Now you itching because you being nosey. Take yo ass back over to your desk before I come over there and flip all those ugly ass pictures of those babies on the floor.” I said through gritted teeth.
He quickly rushed away from me, and I continued exploring Rich’s desk. As I pulled open his desk, I looked around and spotted condoms, some gum, and some weird ass ball of rubber bands.
Guess his ass got bored in here and decided to do some arts and crafts. I pulled a small leather notebook out the top draw and flipped it open. There were pages of everything. Nothing but word vomit, schedules, and important memos he needed to remember.
I continued to flip through it nonchalantly until I saw Cherie’s name. It wasn’t just her name because had it been written regularly, anybody could have flipped right on past it. It was the fact that it was in bold, like he went over her name a dozen times with the blue pen, then it had a heart around it like a fucking weirdo.
Rich was a fucking weirdo, if you asked me.
Cherie said he always had a crush on her and they never crossed those lines until they were older. By the time I came in the picture, the nigga was just trying to make his move, and I took that away from him. I was a big steppa and Cherie couldn’t deny that I was coming harder than Richie Rich ever could.
Truthfully, she did this whole friendship thing because she felt guilty because she was his sister’s friend, and she switched sides when she got with me. She was trying to keep the peace by calming both beasts, and that wasn’t how it worked. The minute she slid down on my dick, she was mine, and there wasn’t nothing else that came with that.
I’ve been nice about the little friendship she thought she had, but my patience was growing thin, and I was tired of hearing my father add his opinion on my shit.
Cherie
She told me that she used to love me, and she wasn’t in love with me anymore. She said she would always be there for me, but she couldn’t be with me because she loved that nigga. Claimed I was in love with Lucia and needed to be with her.
Fuck that Inferno bitch.
He took what was mine.
Cherie was mine. Always been mine since she and Camila became friends. Then she went and had that nigga’s fucking baby.
Hope that shit dies.
I love Lucia, not like Cherie though. Lucia ain’t the one… Cherie is.
347-987-7657 – call Vincent Morgan… left voicemail with Stacy at the front about a case.
“What the fuck are you doing in my office?” I heard Rich’s voice, but my eyes were still lingering over the words I had read in the book I held.
Taking my time, my eyes scanned the page once more before they rose to look at Rich standing in the entrance of the cubicle like he was about to shit bricks. He was big outside of this office, however, in this office, he was Rich Parker, the black boy that was trying to claw his way up.
With my feet still on his desk, I closed the book. “Read your little diary, Rich… a lot of talk about my woman in there.”
He quickly looked around as the sweat continued to bleed through the light blue dress shirt he wore. “What the fuck are you doing here? This is my fucking job, Nigga.” He didn’t even say ‘nigga’ correctly while being in this office.
“I wouldn’t say this is an office… more like a fort or some shit with computers in it.” I remained comfortable, getting a rise out of seeing this nigga sweat. “I’m gonna be brief because that’s all I got in me after reading your diary. Stay the fuck away from Cherie, and I can promise she’s gonna stay the fuck away from you.”
“You came to talk to me because you don’t even believe that yourself. Cherie will always find a way to talk to me and that bothers you. It doesn’t matter that she has had your baby… she will run when I call for her.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Richie Rich… I said my peace, and if I have to come back this way, I can promise we both gonna end up arrested cause I’m gonna break yo jaw… ight?”
“Fuck you.” He muttered, as I rose from his seat.
I laughed. “You can’t even curse me out correctly. These white folks sure got you by the fucking balls in here, huh?” We were face to face; I stood a couple inches taller than him. “Stay the fuck away from Cherie… I don’t give a fuck what you thought you both had, you don’t have shit. I’m the nigga fucking her every night… not you. I’m the nigga that’s gonna slide that ring on her finger… never you. It’s always gonna be me, Rich… never fucking you, we clear?” I patted his shoulder, as I brushed past him, and he stood there trying to pretend like everything was all good.
On my way out the maze of cubicles, I stopped by his colleague that was so nosey. “Rich might be looking up gay porn on his computer… I’m IT.”
Concern bombarded his face. “Seriously? Should I talk to Evan about it… what is the protocol about this?”
“Right now, we’re investigating… we’re going to play it by ear, but I wouldn’t let him near your computer.” I patted the top of the felt wall and headed out the door, tickled that I fucked with this nigga.
As I turned the corner, I could see Rich watching me while his co-worker watched him. If Rich knew what was good for him, his ass would keep it pushing and stay the fuck away from Cherie.