~~~Chapter 5~~~
Malice
I was coasting down the street, thinking to myself.
I had been running around all day, and was now headed to another spot to ensure that shit was copasetic.
Sadly, this was the only time I had to myself.
Moving dope was profitable like a muthafucka, but it was taxing is so many other ways.
Normalcy was abnormal as fuck ‘round these parts.
For me, I knew that this street shit wasn’t what I wanted forever.
In fact, my run in the game wasn’t even supposed to last for as long as it had.
I’d started off as a small-time hustler, when I went away for college.
I was out in the middle of nowhere, for real, and needed extra money.
Naturally, my mama did what she could, but she still had four other kids to provide for.
So, with limited resources at junior college, I needed the extra bread.
Pushing weed and pills was how it all started. It wasn’t long before I realized that I had a real knack for hustling. Soon after, I was making so much money that I lost focus on the original goal.
I wanted to play ball, but after a few bad decisions, I’d lost out on some scholarships and called myself taking the junior college path to redeem myself. The hope was to eventually transfer to a university with a powerhouse team, and eventually make it to the league.
I definitely believed in myself, and I still felt that if I’d stuck with it, then I could’ve made my b-ball dreams a reality.
The problem was that I loved instant gratification.
Plus, I was a numbers’ man, and knew that statistically the odds were stacked against me.
So, once I was bringing in well over 10K a month, I decided to take a break from school.
Still, til this day, I was one of the main suppliers of recreational drugs for that campus.
With money in my pockets and eagerness in my heart, I returned to Houston with a plan.
I was going to carve out a space for me in the game.
And I’d done just that. Within three months, I was addicted to the money and the life that came with it.
Now, at twenty-five, I had been there and done that, but I wasn’t quite ready to walk away.
The allure of the game had long ago faded, but the need for that money was still the motivation to keep going.
At one point, I thought that after I touched a certain amount, then I could walk.
However, with inflation and the cost of living, the end goal was constantly being readjusted.
With the lifestyle I lived, five million wasn’t enough.
With the wrong investments or unexpected strife, I could find myself broke.
So, I needed five times that amount to even consider a retirement from the game.
If you asked me, my plans made perfect sense, but that didn’t mean that I had everybody around me convinced.
My cell ringing on Bluetooth knocked me out of my thoughts. Seeing the name on display, I smirked, before answering. “Yeah?”
“Yeah? Negro, are you serious, right now?”
I lightly tittered. “What’s up, man?”
“So, that’s really how it is? Five years in, and now it’s just fuck me?”
“Did I say that?”
“Might as well have. It’s been a fucking month.”
“Okay. Whose fault is that?”
“So, you saying that I wanted this?”
“You didn’t?” I countered.
There was a brief pause.
“Nigga, why are you playing with me? How the fuck does me saying that some shit has to change, equates to you leaving this house, and resting your head elsewhere?”
“Shit, you was telling me to leave. Screaming at the top of your lungs. You don’t remember that?”
“I was trying to get you to listen to me. I was frustrated. The last thing I was expecting was for you to walk away. You didn’t even try.”
“That’s the thing. You gotta say what you mean and mean what you say. If you’re frustrated, then say that shit. You don’t tell a nigga to get out, when I’m the muthafucka paying all the bills in that bitch. Make it make sense.”
“That’s how we both know that I can’t put you out, for real.”
“I was tired of the threats.”
“So, that’s it?”
“What chu mean?”
She sucked her teeth. “Stop fucking playing with me. You know exactly what I’m asking. Do you really want it to end like this?”
I sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Okay. Then come get all your fucking clothes out of here. Cause I’m tired of sitting around here, wondering. And do that ASAP, before I start throwing this shit outside!”
Seeing that she’d hung up, I shook my head. “I wasn’t even trying to deal with her crazy ass today, but fuck it. I guess it’s finally time to stop running and go deal with this shit.”
Jaylah
Stepping into Jahreiah’s salon, I glanced around, not really recognizing many of the faces.
The shop was packed and that wasn’t surprising.
My sister’s shop was one of the hottest in the city.
Right up there with our Aunt Rye’s. I was blessed to have multiple hairstylists in my family, and I would go to whoever had the quickest availability.
This time around, I’d talked to Jahreiah and she was going to be in the shop today, which was a rarity.
My sister was a celebrity hair stylist and made a lot of house calls.
She would also travel occasionally, but really didn’t care to, because she had small children.
Of course, she really didn’t have to work at all, because she had money just like me, and her man was also raking in a serious cash flow.
So, Jahreiah did hair mostly for the sheer love of it and got to pick and choose when she wanted to work, at all.
So, getting your hair done by her was definitely a blessing, and you’d always walk away grateful, because my sister was the fucking truth.
High key, I think that Jahreiah aka Riah still did hair, because she would be bored, otherwise. Being in a shop, amongst a bunch of cackling women, was pure entertainment, and even I’d find myself hanging around, regardless of needing my hair done or not. Just to gossip and bullshit.
Sauntering through the shop, I made my way back to Riah’s private suite.
When I stepped into the space, I saw that she had three clients sitting and waiting, while there was a client already in her chair.
Meanwhile, she was standing there, texting away on her phone, with her long hair trussed up in a bun, while rocking an Alo sports bra and leggings getup.
Standing behind the second chair was her assistant, Kema, who was braiding another client’s hair.
“Hey, y’all,” I spoke and waved.
“Hey,” everyone responded simultaneously.
“There that big fine muthafucka go,” Kema playfully boasted, as she always did.
She was from our daddy’s old neighborhood, Sunny Side, and we’d known her forever.
She didn’t have a cosmetologist license or anything, but could braid her ass off.
So, when my sister opened the shop, she hired Kema, and I felt like that had been a good move.
Kema was one of the shop’s braiders, and made life so much easier for the stylists.
Whenever Riah was in the shop, she worked right beside her, braiding all the heads down for wig installs.
Outside of the shop, Kema’s pretty, mocha complexioned, slim ass had become more like family to us, as we’d grown closer over the past couple of years.
She was always hyping everybody up, and didn’t have a jealous bone in her body.
I loved that about her, because that couldn’t be said about a lot of women. Especially when it comes to me.
One could probably argue that all the women in my family had their fair share of haters. Hell, we were Braxton’s, after all. Not to mention, we were all considered attractive, but my appearance was the most unconventional out of everybody.
My mama, Raven, was and still is that girl.
She was known for her exotic brown skin, soft textured hair, gentle facial features, with a banging curvaceous body.
Then my daddy was that nigga. He was reddish brown, extremely bowlegged, with a pretty boy’s mug.
So, it wasn’t surprising that they’d created physically elite offspring.
All of Raven’s daughters had nice shapes, including me… but then covid happened.
I was in high school when the world shut down for nearly a year.
It was a weird time, where we all found ourselves at home more often.
And that was when I developed an unhealthy relationship with food.
It happened gradually, but I eventually gained about thirty pounds, making me thicker than all my sisters.
Since then, my weight would yoyo, but I never managed to go back to the size before covid. For a short while, the weight gain made me insecure, until my mama took notice. One thing Raven didn’t play about was her kids and husband. So, she was willing to do whatever to put a smile back on my face.
Not accepting excuses, my mama got me into fitness.
We’d workout together. I got a nutritionist. The whole shebang.
Eventually, I was toned, and my confidence was restored.
Funnily, even as I got in shape, I realized that after a while, the weight wasn’t dropping, anymore.
It was driving me crazy, because I didn’t like standing next to my sisters with their smaller frames.
But that didn’t last long, because the moment Raven caught me comparing myself to anybody else, she nipped that right in the bud.