~~~Chapter 6~~~
I was lounging on my couch, absently scrolling through my phone. It was one of those days when I didn’t feel like doing anything. Usually, this was the time that I’d spend with Zae, but I wasn’t trying to fall back into bad habits. So, I tried my mightiest not to call him.
It had been a couple of weeks since my rendezvous with Mr. Malice. And I thought about those three days constantly. I daydreamed about it. Definitely wouldn’t have minded taking him on another spin, but he’d basically ghosted me.
After my fight with Zae, and having to get a new phone, it took a whole day before I could use that line again.
I then had to go the extra mile and review my call-log online to even retrieve Malice’s number.
And then, I texted. It wasn’t delivered, so I could only assume that I’d been blocked.
Of course, my pride wouldn’t let me call, so I had to accept that that was a one and done situation.
I could bullshit myself and say that I didn’t care…
but I did. Just a little. Malice had been a whole vibe.
I liked his style. Personality. And sex.
It was amazing. And I’d probably compare anybody who came along after, that experience.
Because fucking him had been the most pleasurable days of my life.
Feeling a little crazy, I’d even tried looking him up on social media, and ran into a dead end.
Impressively, he really didn’t have a digital footprint that was widely known.
I’d even stumbled across his boy’s page, and there was no evidence of him, at all.
I was sifting through comments and everything, hoping that something would lead me to his page. But no cigar.
Not being able to find him was actually a good thing, because that meant that he was truly a low-key nigga.
Something I’d been wanting. A nigga that these hoes couldn’t claim to know.
However, as luck would have it, my past had run my potential future off, leaving me pissy.
I’d come to that conclusion after I noticed the length of that call from Malice.
Although we hadn’t spoken directly, that call with Malice was over twenty minutes long, which means that he’d probably sat and listened to my entire argument with Zae.
And then perhaps he’d decided that I had too much going on, for his taste.
Either way, I was irritated out of my mind.
I’d jumped out there and had tried something new, only for it to end before it could even start.
I think what bothered me the most was that I was legitimately done with Zae, and had been fully broken up with him.
So, he’d interfered in something, when he really had no fucking right.
I also had to question if Malice’s interest was really there, to give up so easily.
I thought that a bitch was at least worth scrapping with a bitter ex a time or three. Damn.
“Yeah, she probably sleep in this muthafucka.”
Hearing a voice downstairs, when I wasn’t expecting anybody, I immediately sat up. “What the fuck?” I whispered, as I frantically glanced around, trying to remember where I’d stashed my gun.
“Diva Jay, you sleeping?”
Hearing that voice, I smiled. “Claro.”
Staring at the stairway, I watched Zae and his best friend, Claro, step onto the second floor.
Laying eyes on me, Claro immediately smiled. “What’s up, sis?”
I smirked, as I gave him a once over. Claro was a tall, light brown, thick nigga. He was literally right beside Zae when he’d first approached me, and had been our third wheel ever since.
No lie, Claro was cooler than a fan. He was funny.
Charismatic. Which was probably why he was one of the biggest male whores in Houston.
Girls were obviously drawn to him and his laid back, playful demeanor.
Meanwhile, I personally dug him, because he was often the voice of reason, whenever me and Zae were at odds.
No matter how heated things could become, he could always manage to talk his boy down.
And that meant that if you looked past the bullshit, Claro was actually a sensible guy.
“Hey,” I spoke, before my eyes traveled to Zae.
He was looking…delectable in his Chrome Heart sweats.
That line-up was fresh, and the diamonds around his neck gleamed against his chocolate skin.
“I’ma have to change my locks, because this is getting out of hand.
Why do you keep letting yourself in here? ”
He opened his arms. “How else am I gonna talk to you? You won’t answer none of your phones.”
“Right.” My lashes fluttered. “Because I don’t wanna talk to you.”
“But why?” He pressed, like we hadn’t had this same conversation several times before.
“Zae.” I clutched my forehead. “You’re really about to give me a headache.”
He sucked his teeth. “You see what I’m saying, man?
” He turned to ask Claro. “It’s like talking to a fucking brick wall.
I bought her a new TV. Sent money for a new phone.
Apologized. Sent flowers. I try to be sensible, when I really wanna turn up in this bitch.
She sitting there, playing with a nigga. After that nigga called her phone—”
“And that’s exactly why you won’t get nowhere with me. Every time you call my phone, you wanna argue about that nigga, when that’s totally irrelevant,” I interjected. “The moment I told you that I was done, then I was well within my rights to do whatever. Regardless of you liking it or not.”
“Okay,” Claro spoke up, licking his lips. “Let me ask you this, Jaylah.”
I arched a brow.
“How would you feel, if he would’ve popped out with a new bitch, the minute you said that it was over? That would’ve been cool with you?”
I shrugged. “That would’ve just showed me who he was.”
“Okay, so who the fuck is you?” Zae seethed.
I remained calm. “Apparently, somebody you deal with, whenever you find the time. Somebody that you’ve been inside of but still haven’t dug deep enough to know. Shall I continue?”
Zae’s scowl deepened. “Why do you keep saying that I don’t know you? How the fuck do that even make sense?”
“Because you know me no more than a distant relative. We don’t be on the same page.
I can’t talk to you about shit, for real.
If it’s family drama, involving people you don’t deem to have enough social status, then you cut me off, swearing that you got tunnel vision and don’t have time to worry about other people.
The whole time, I just be wanting somebody with an ear to listen.
And I don’t want to first prove to you that the topic is important enough for you to discuss.
You wanna be so important that you forget about being human.
If you can’t be the person that I share all my thoughts with, no matter how trivial, then what’s the point?
Your lack of communication skills trickles down to everything, where I find myself not telling you much of anything.
And that tells me that you only care about the surface level of our relationship.
As long as I look good on your arm, and can fuck you, then you’re content.
That tells me that I can easily be replaced, because any girl can provide that.
There’s nothing specific that you need from me, because that doesn’t matter to you, right now.
I don’t see shit like you do. I want something deeper, and I just don’t think that your superficial ass can provide that. ”
“Jaylah, I hear you,” Claro spoke up. “But I really believe that you got my boy wrong. If he felt like any girl could fill your shoes, then he wouldn’t be standing here, right now.
But you right about his communication. That nigga be going through shit, and be under a lot of pressure.
Then instead of venting to you, he keeps that inside.
So, when you wanna talk about simple shit, he probably is dismissive, because he already got a lot on his mind.
All the while, if he got everything off his chest, you could probably help him to work through the problems. Then you could bring in your lighter subject matter.
And I told him that he gotta open up more. ”
I rolled my eyes to the ceiling. “Why does it sound like you just made that up, trying to cover for him?”
“He was telling the truth,” Zae spoke up. “The business be having me stressed, and I always have it in my head that you wouldn’t understand.”
“And why wouldn’t I?” I frowned.
“Because you and your family got the Midas touch, Jaylah. Money just overflows for you. And Ion wanna seem like some weak ass nigga who can’t handle his own.”
Shaking my head, I sighed. “And that’s a problem too.
That’s totally about your ego. This aint a competition, Zae.
And instead of you using me to enhance your life, you compare what we have.
I won’t apologize for having what I have, but I never told you that I wasn’t willing to help.
But you gotta be hung up on how that looks or what that’ll make you feel, and there’s nothing I can do about that. ”
“So, is that enough for you to give up on him?” Claro wanted to know.
Narrowing my eyes, I didn’t like how he was helping his boy have leverage in the argument. “Nigga, mind your business.”
He cracked a smile, as he pointed. “See. You know I’m right. This man is pleading for another chance, Jaylah. Why can’t you just consider it?”
I thought about it, and I had to admit…Zae wasn’t the worst. And perhaps he’d learned his lesson, and was going to do better this time around.
“Look, Zae,” I exhaled, while glancing his way.
“I’m not gonna say that we’re back together today.
But…I am willing to work on it. Only if that’s what you’re really committed to doing. ”
Zae immediately nodded. “I am.”
Malice
My cell was ringing off the hook, and I was wishing that I could go to the crib and just call it a day. However, I had business to handle, and a muthafucka to find.
“Say, run by that nigga’s block,” PJ suggested, as he rode shotgun. “I just got a text. They said that Rondo’s bitch ass is posted at the corner store.”
I nodded, before making a U-turn in the middle of the road, headed to that corner store, expeditiously.
Before the day ended, that bitch ass nigga Rondo had to see me.
Being a cool ass dude, I’d fronted Rondo a whole kilo of raw uncut cocaine.
In the past, Rondo had always conducted good business, so I fronted him the dope in good faith.
Usually, he’d come back with my money in full, whenever he needed a front.
However, this time, the nigga had been ducking and dodging my calls, and it had been a whole fucking month since I’d laid eyes on him.
In the game, shit like this was bound to happen, and it was always imperative that it was handled appropriately.
The streets were always watching, and letting a man slide with that type of load would be like opening the flood gates for the takers.
Niggas loved a easy mark, and that would never be me.
So, it was time to send a message loud and clear. There was no running off on this plug, without dire consequences.
Riding with fully loaded choppers, we could slide through and light up the whole block, but that wasn’t the plan.
Shooting into a crowd was coward shit, and I was frankly above it.
If anything, I could hop out of the truck, and walk a nigga down, but it was broad daylight, and far too many witnesses to make that move.
With me, I played for keeps. So, I didn’t let my emotions rule me. No matter the situation. Even if a fuck nigga was in violation, I wasn’t going to recklessly throw my freedom away, if I could help it.
My adrenaline was pumping, as I pulled up on Rondo’s block in the heart of Third Ward, with my AK 47 in my lap. Just as I suspected, there was a crowd of niggas loitering around, which was something that I didn’t need. But I was unquestionably still proceeding.
“Look at ‘im.” PJ craned his neck, as he spotted Rondo. “Chilling out here like shit is sweet.”
I nodded, as I locked in on Rondo. “Yeah, he’s definitely a bold muthafucka.”
PJ tapped my arm. “Pull up closer.”
I nodded, before pulling my truck right up on Rondo and some other niggas, as they leaned up against a BMW SUV. Rolling my window down, I wanted to ensure that Rondo saw my face.
“Say, Rondo, my nigga,” I called out, immediately capturing his and everybody else’s attention. “Come holler at me.”
Pausing, I could tell that Rondo was shook to see me. “Aye, what, what’s up?” He stuttered.
I gestured my head back. “Come holler at me.”
He hesitated, and one nigga picked up on it. He was some tall, chocolate cat. “Say, Rondo, who is that nigga?”
Rondo scratched the side of his head. “This nigga I know—”
Ole boy frowned, while another cat stepped in front of them both to address me. “Say, who is you niggas? Cause aint no outsiders allowed ‘round here.”
He reached for something behind him, which alerted me, causing me to grip the chopper and aim.
“Oh, that’s what we on?” The nigga out front questioned. He was a big burly muthafucka and looked like he could take quite a few bullets.
“Shit, ask yourself, nigga. This is about Rondo, and you niggas is inserting yourselves.”
His partner chimed in. “Y’all in our fucking hood!”
“Okay, so you niggas help your broke ass boy come up with the money he owes me, then,” I commanded, with my finger on the trigger.
The big burly tough guy spat on the ground. “Fuck you. And as long as Rondo is on this block, then you niggas aint touching him.”
Knowing that too much of a scene had already been made, and I was in a vehicle registered in my name, I realized that it wasn’t the time to let loose.
“Alright.” I calmly nodded. “Just know that you niggas just officially bought into that man’s smoke.
So, either y’all help him come up with my bread, or I’m handling you niggas too. ”
“Shit, it’s whatever,” Big Boy growled.
“Fuck that! Shoot them niggas,” PJ insisted.
Ignoring that urging, I remained focused on those niggas. “Yeah, alright. I’ma see y’all around. And I swear to God, you niggas better stand on that,” I warned, before skirting off the block.