19. Kim
KIM
Ever since that night at Savannah Blue, my hatred for Alisha had reached a different level. Not because she threw water in my face or because she checked me in front of everybody. It was the confidence for me and the entitlement.
The way she stood there talking to me like she already knew Deuce would never leave her. Like no matter how many nights he spent with me or how many times he whispered he loved me or how much of himself he gave me I still wasn’t competition.
Deuce made it worse cause he damn near disappeared on me. Barely answering calls, texting back hours later. Suddenly I became inconvenient. Meanwhile I’m sitting around carrying emotional weight for both of us while Shante’s pregnant with our baby.
I wanted updates constantly now, doctor appointments, ultrasound pictures.
Anything involving the baby. But Shante stayed acting distant toward me and honestly that irritated the fuck outta me too.
The whole time she was walking around with my child growing inside her while acting like I’m some random outsider.
By the third day of Deuce ignoring me, I was pissed.
I wasn’t built to sit around begging behind no nigga. Especially not after everything I sacrificed for his ass. Around nine that night my phone finally rang and it was Deuce’s ass.
About damn time. “Hello?” I answered.
“Come to the penthouse.” Just straight attitude.
“You finally remember I exist?”
“Kim,” he snapped irritated already. “Either come or don’t.”
Then he hung up in my face. That should’ve been enough for me to stay home, but instead I still got dressed. No matter how angry I got with Deuce he still had a grip on me emotionally.
When I walked into the penthouse, I knew immediately something was off. Deuce stood near the kitchen drinking straight from a liquor glass while talking on the phone. The look on his face was cold as hell.
“Nah,” he spoke into the phone. “Handle it.” Then he hung up finally looking toward me.
“You took forever.”
I folded my arms. “You been acting funny.”
“I got a lot going on, but you should know that.”
“So do I.”
He laughed dryly under his breath like that statement annoyed him.
“You think this shit easy for me?” I snapped.
“I think you making shit harder.”
“ME?”
He sat his drink down hard.
“Yes you.”
Before I could even respond, Deuce walked over grabbing my waist aggressively before kissing me hard enough to shut me up.
The whole thing felt rough from the start.
Not romantic or intimate like usual. It was like he was angry at the world and taking it out on me.
Everything happened fast after that, our clothes hitting the floor.
And the entire time Deuce barely even looked at me. Didn’t say shit sweet. He didn’t touch me gently. He bent me over and entered me. I gasped because the shit hurt. Deuce was well endowed and I always had to prepare for sex with him.
By the time it was over, I sat there trying to catch my breath while he walked off already reaching for his drink again. Like I was nothing and just some stress reliever instead of somebody he claimed to love. That shit made me feel disgusted with myself.
“You couldn’t even fake affection?” I asked.
He didn’t even turn around.
“What now damn! I gave you what you wanted right?” He spat.
I stared at his back in disbelief. “Seriously?”
“What you want from me tonight, Kim?”
“I want you to stop treating me like some damn groupie!”
That finally made him look over his shoulder and the expression on his face was pure irritation.
“You knew what this was from the jump.”
“No,” I snapped. “I knew what it was, but you made me love you. You told me you loved me.”
“I do.”
“You got a funny way of showing it.”
He laughed coldly while sipping his liquor.
“Love ain’t the issue right now.”
“The fuck it ain’t.”
“No,” he replied calmly. “The issue is your daddy got the FBI crawling up my ass.”
“My father's job ain’t got shit to do with me!”
“You his daughter.”
“And?”
“And you should’ve been figured out a way to calm that shit down.”
I stared at him like he lost his mind.
“You really blaming me because you involved in criminal shit?”
“Watch your mouth.”
“Or what?”
We were both one sentence away from a complete blowup.
“You wanna know the problem? You forgot your position.”
That sentence alone pissed me off.
“My position?”
“Yes.”
“You not my wife.”
I laughed bitterly trying to hide how bad that hurt. “Wow.”
“You wanted a baby,” he continued colder now. “You got one coming.”
“Our baby.” I replied.
He shrugged. “You knew what lane this was.”
I folded my arms tighter trying not to cry. The way he talked to me right then made me feel stupid as hell and used.
“So all them nights together meant nothing?”
“I ain’t say that.”
“You basically did.”
Deuce rubbed his beard frustrated.
“Kim, I got real problems right now.”
“And I’m one of them?”
Silence, that silence answered enough.
“You know what's really crazy? You got me looking dumb out here.”
“You doing that yourself.”
That one cut deep. “I stood beside you through all this pressure.”
“Ain’t nobody ask you to.”
My chest tightened. Cause wow this nigga really ain’t shit.
“You know what?” I snapped grabbing my purse. “Fuck you.”
“No,” he yelled. “Fuck you!”
I looked at him in disbelief.
“Fuck me?”
“You heard what the fuck I said.”
He pointed toward me dismissively.
“You sitting around worried about feelings while the Feds trying to build cases.”
“And maybe if you wasn’t out here moving dirty!”
Before I could finish, Deuce slammed his glass against the counter hard enough to make me jump.
“I SAID WATCH YOUR FUCKING MOUTH.”
For the first time since knowing him I genuinely saw how dangerous Deuce could become under pressure. He stared at me breathing hard while I stood there frozen.
Then finally he smirked, shaking his head. “Look at you.”
Tears burned my eyes out of anger more than hurt.
“You wanted this lifestyle so bad,” he snapped. “Well, this is what comes with it.”
“I didn’t ask for this.”
“Yes you did.”
“You wanted access to me. You wanted my time. You wanted a baby. You had to have more.”
Every sentence felt like another slap.
“And now, you're mad because you realize you're still the side bitch at the end of the day.”
For a second, I just stood there staring at Deuce while my chest felt tight as hell. Because no matter how many times I reminded myself what our situation was hearing him say it out loud like that was a different type of pain.
“You really ain’t shit,” I whispered.
Deuce grabbed his liquor again like the conversation bored him now.
“I never told you I was.”
That response alone almost made tears fall, he meant that shit.
I snatched my purse up off the couch angrily while trying to hold onto what little dignity I had left.
And the crazy part was my stupid ass still loved him.
Still wanted him and things to go back to how they used to be before everything got ugly.
“Kim….”
“No,” I snapped quickly before he could say anything else.
I couldn’t take hearing another cold ass statement come out his mouth tonight. Not after the way he already made me feel. I walked toward the elevator fast as hell trying not to cry until the doors closed.
I knew I let myself become exactly the type of woman I promised I’d never be.
The emotional side bitch waiting around for scraps of attention.
The elevator ride downstairs felt long as hell.
My makeup smeared, chest hurting and mind racing.
And still part of me kept making excuses for him.
He was under pressure, the Feds, on him.
That was my problem I was always trying to understand him even when he treated me fucked up.
The second I got inside my car; I slammed my hands against the steering wheel hard. “Fuck!” But even yelling ain’t make me feel better nothing did.
The drive home through downtown Detroit blurred together honestly. I felt completely stupid. The thing bothering me most wasn’t even him calling me the side bitch. It was the fact that he sounded so comfortable saying it. Like I should already know my place by now.
The next couple days after that, Deuce barely contacted me again. One dry ass text that was it. No apology, no explanation. That hurt my feelings more than the actual argument. It proved he really believed I wasn’t going anywhere no matter how fucked up he treated me.
By Friday, I finally decided to go see my parents.
Mostly because I needed familiarity and normal energy.
Cause sitting in that house alone with my thoughts was driving me crazy.
The second I pulled into my parents’ driveway, my mama and little sister Regina Jr. were already outside loading shopping bags into the truck.
Mama smiled seeing me. “Hey baby.”
I forced a smile climbing out.
“Hey Ma.”
Regina Jr. hugged me quickly before side-eyeing my face.
“You look tired.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m just being honest.”
Mama looked me over too before frowning slightly.
“You been crying?”
“No.”
“Yeah okay,” Mama mumbled like she ain’t believe me.
Then she grabbed her purse. “Well, me and your sister about to go spend your daddy money.”
That made me laugh. “Again?” I asked.
“Absolutely.” Mama replied.
Regina Jr. grinned. “Neiman Marcus calling my name.”
Daddy voice suddenly echoed from inside the house.
“Y’all spending like I print money in the basement!”
Mama rolled her eyes. “Boy hush.”
Before leaving, Mama grabbed my hand gently. “You okay?”
And honestly that question almost made me break down again.
I nodded. “I’m fine.”
She looked unconvinced but let it go.
“Okay don’t let your daddy stress you out in there.”
Too late I thought to myself. The second they left, I headed inside slowly. Daddy sat in his office downstairs reading paperwork with his glasses low on his nose. Looking at him made guilt creep through me. Because the entire reason I came over here was to ask him to stop doing his job.
“There’s my other headache,” he joked without looking up. “My hardheaded daughter.”
I smiled weakly sitting across from him.
“Hey Daddy.”
He finally glanced up fully and his expression changed slightly.
“You been crying.”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Kimberly.”
Damn I hated when he used my full name. I looked down quietly for a second before finally speaking. “Can you leave Deuce alone?”
Straight to it no point dancing around the subject.
Daddy leaned back slowly in his chair, studying me carefully. That man always knew more than he let on.
“No.”
Just like that flat and cold.
“Daddy…”
“No.”
“You don’t even know him.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
“He not a bad person,” I pleaded.
“Baby girl…” He took his glasses off slowly. “…good men don’t have the FBI watching them.”
I looked away I ain’t really have no comeback for that.
“He under pressure right now.”
“He under investigation.”
“It’s not the same thing.”
“It is when innocent people get caught in the middle.”
Part of me knew he was talking about me too.
“You don’t understand,” I whispered.
“No,” Daddy corrected calmly. “You don’t understand.” His voice stayed calm but firm. “The men I investigate, they lie, they manipulate.” They make women feel special while dragging them into dangerous situations.”
Every word felt personal. “You making assumptions.”
“No,” he replied. “I’m reading behavior.”
Daddy leaned forward slightly. “You think that man would sacrifice himself for you?”
Immediately I answered. “Yes.”
But after the penthouse conversation I wasn’t even fully convinced anymore. Daddy saw the hesitation. The disappointment in his face after that almost hurt worse than Deuce words.
“He got your mind so gone that you can’t even see that he don’t give a damn about you!” Daddy said. “That’s obvious.”
“You don’t know our relationship.”
“I know enough.”
Then he paused before asking the question I dreaded most. “Does his wife know about you?”
The silence answered enough for him too. Daddy leaned back in his chair rubbing his jaw slowly.
“Jesus Christ.”
“It’s complicated.”
“No,” he replied. “It’s toxic.”
I folded my arms tighter immediately defensive again.
“You judging me.”
“I’m trying to save you.”
That sentence made tears burn my eyes all over again. Because deep down I knew my father genuinely believed that.
“He is going to leave her he just waiting on the right time,” I whispered weakly.
Daddy stared before finally speaking. “Maybe he is.”
Hope flickered inside me, then he finished. “But he ain’t gone be with you either cause his ass gone be in federal prison for a long time.”
I felt bad for Deuce at that moment.
“He got you sitting around looking pathetic while he still goes home to his wife every night.”
I looked down quickly trying not to cry again.
“He made his choice already, Kimberly.” Hearing my own father say it out loud made the reality sting even worse.