Chapter 20
The following day, Shyann had taken Tasha to the cancer center for her follow-up visit as promised.
Tasha was feeling more pain than the day before.
She moved like molasses, feeling every ache the more she took a step.
She barely got to the car before she dropped into the passenger seat, exhaling loudly.
“Nice meeting you, Mrs. Riggs,” Tasha yelled out the window at the older woman she met inside the doctor's office. Mrs. Riggs had beaten cancer before, and now here she was again, back in the ring fighting another battle.
Shyann didn’t say much at first, just started the engine and pulled off from the cancer center lot. “You want somethin’ from the store?” she asked, glancing over at Tasha. “I can run in and grab crackers or ginger ale, whatever you need.”
“Yeah, ginger ale. And maybe those little lemon cookies if they got ‘em.”
Shyann nodded and pulled over into the Quick Stop. “I’ll be right back, girl.”
Tasha watched Shyann as she headed into the store fussing with the old men who was posted by the icebox.
She reached into her purse to check her phone, only to find that it was dead again.
She sighed. “Damn, not again. I swear I gotta get me a new phone.” She searched around in her purse for her charger, hoping to get lucky.
“Fuck! Hopefully, Shy has a charger I can use. I need to holla at Jue for a minute,” she thought to herself.
Her eyes started to drift and landed on Shyann’s phone in the cup holder. She picked it up to see if it was charged. “Good, Shy got a couple of bars.”
She opened the phone app to dial Juelz’s number, but as she started typing the first three digits, a name popped up in the “recent” suggestions.
MY SECRET
Tasha’s heart skipped. Not just because his name was there, but because of the name she had his number saved as.
She pressed the name, her thumb hovering over the screen. She scrolled to the message app and read their recent text thread.
Shyann (3:10 PM) video attachment: “Yes, Juelz. Umm…yessss.”
She went to the next message.
Shyann (3:14 PM):
Come meet me in 30 minutes. Don’t be late. 226 Column Lane. Hotel on the right. Room 069. Or I’ll send it to Tasha.
Tasha’s mouth dropped open. Her vision blurred, but it wasn’t from the pain she was feeling. It was straight rage. Her hand shook as she kept scrolling, her chest rising like she couldn’t catch her breath.
The car door opened.
Shyann hopped back in, two bags in hand. “They ain’t have them damn lemon—”
Slap…
Tasha's hand landed across her face so hard the ginger ale flew into the back seat. “Bitch, you been fuckin’ my man?”
Shyann held her jaw, trying to find the right words to say, but her words got stuck in the back of her throat. “Tasha, I… I … it’s … it’s—”
Tasha shook her head, mocking every word. “I… I … it’s … it’s.” Tasha pounced on her. “Shut up, lyin’ hoe.”
Shyann screamed, dropping her bags as she was clawing at Tasha’s arm, but Tasha was possessed. She dragged Shyann’s head down toward the horn, the loud, steady BEEEEEEP echoing through the parking lot as Tasha pounded into her skull. “Tasha, what the fuck—?!”
Every lie, every fake smile, every text she sent to Juelz was a play in Tasha's face. Tasha didn’t stop hitting Shyann until she was slumped against the door, crying and bleeding from her lip.
“Don’t, Tasha, me, hoe!” she yelled, getting out of the car to walk around to Shyann's side of the vehicle. She grabbed a fistful of Shyann’s wig and dragged her onto the pavement. “Getcho ass outta the car, hoe! You smilin’ and shit in my face, and fuckin’ Jue behind my back at the same time!”
Punch…
“Bitch, I let you come into my house—”
“T, let go! It wasn’t like that!” Shyann shrieked, kicking her leg up, trying to push her off.
Tasha didn’t care. She wasn’t hearing shit. Shyann was spitting. She was on top of her now, swinging, open palm, closed fist, whatever landed. “Bitch, you ‘posed to be my friend. Outta all the niggas out here, you fucked mine? I should kill you out here, hoe.”
“Get off me!” Shyann screamed, trying to yank away, but Tasha caught her again, nails digging into her neck. When Shyann managed to lift her head to gasp for air, Tasha’s foot connected hard with her right eye. It swelled shut instantly.
By the time bystanders rushed over to pull Tasha off, Shyann was a bloody swollen mess. Her shirt was ripped, one lash was hanging off her eyelid, and blood was smeared across her mouth.
Tasha stood there, held back by two men, her chest heaving as she fought for air.
She wasn’t weak in that moment, she had found strength she didn’t realize she had, despite having surgery yesterday.
“Naw! Lemme go. I’m ‘bout to dog walk this hoe.” Tasha yelled.
“Don’t you ever come near me again. You dead to me bitch.
DEAD, you hear me? DEAD!” she broke free from their arms. “If you wanted to sample the dick? All you had to do was ask, bitch. We probably coulda fucked the nigga together. But you went about it the wrong fuckin’ way. ”
Shyann wiped her mouth, looking up from the pavement with one good eye. “Tasha, listen to me—”
Tasha didn’t let her finish, she swung on her one last time. “Fuck you, Shy! You were my friend.”
She spat at Shyann and climbed into the driver’s seat, slammed the door, and peeled off, leaving the scent of burnt rubber and betrayal in the air.
Shyann was trying to tear the remaining of her wig off that was still hanging on by the glue as she cried out. “Nooo. Don’t letta take my carrr!”
Tasha drove like a bat out of hell, her hands steady on the wheel as her heart thundered against her ribs.
She pulled Shyann’s car into the driveway, her hands still locked tight on the wheel.
Her whole body was a world of rage, betrayal, and disbelief, fighting for space in her chest. But her mind was somewhere else.
Cloudy. Scattered. The world felt like it was tilting on its axis.
Once she arrived at her and Juelz's home, she was overheated. Seeing red. She couldn’t believe they betrayed her like that.
She stumbled out of the car, her movements jagged. She slammed the door with a desperate, bone-deep strength, so hard that the driver’s side window shattered, the glass raining down onto the pavement like diamonds.
She didn't even flinch at the sound. She was mumbling to herself, her voice a low, jagged hiss of curses and hatred. She turned toward the house, her eyes fixed on the front door, when she heard it—
CRASH.
The sound of metal groaning against the pavement made her spin around. Because of the rage blinding her, Tasha hadn’t realized she had never put the car in park. She watched, frozen, as the car rolled backwards. It gained speed, heavy and unstoppable, backing straight out of the driveway.
She walked into the house, swinging the door open so hard that the doorknob crashed into the drywall. The house was quiet, and it made her blood boil.
“JUELZ!” she roared, her voice cracking the silence of the foyer. “You muthafucka! Get out here!” She was holding her abdomen, as she bent down. “NOWWWW!”
He didn’t answer. She was alone. She went upstairs to the master bathroom and closed the door.
She stripped off her sweat-soaked, hospital-scented clothes and stepped into the shower.
She scrubbed her knuckles—sore and bruised from Shyann’s face—until the skin was raw.
The more she scrubbed, the more she could smell Shyann’s perfume.
When she stepped out of the shower, she dressed in her black lace panty set and tied a loose black silk robe around her waist. She looked at herself in the mirror. She was pale, and her eyes were dark, but all she saw was a woman who was done being a victim.