Chapter 8
DUKE
“You good, my nigga?” Cecil asked, with a laugh.
With my eyes closed, I nodded. “Hell yeah.”
“What possessed you to hit the fuckin’ blunt? You wylin,” he said with a laugh. “You fucked up.”
I tossed my head back against the back of the couch and chuckled a little. “Shit, I don’t know.”
I did know. I knew very well. Life. Life made me hit the blunt. I wasn’t a smoker. Hadn’t touched my lips to a blunt since I was a little nigga. Today though, I said fuck it and accepted the blunt when it was passed to me.
I was at Tank’s crib. After spending the majority of my day at the hotel I was staying at, I said fuck it and got on the phone with my niggas.
They always had something going on and I needed a distraction.
Without it, I would be stuck in my head, thinking about Mahogany.
Thinking about them. And about how much my life was changing…
shit about how much it’d already changed.
It had been four days since I last seen her.
Four days since I heard her voice. Four days since I stepped foot in my home.
Shit was eating at me. My heart ached. Literally.
Before, I didn’t know what the fuck a broken heart felt like but these days I knew.
I had something to go off on and I didn’t like it. Not at all.
“What the fuck goin’ on at the crib, my baby? You good?” He asked.
Lazily, I opened my eyes and hit him with a half-smile. “I’m straight, nigga. I just... wanted to hit the fuckin’ blunt.”
“Nah, somethin’ up,” He doubted. “You know that nigga Tank ain’t gon let you leave the crib like this right? You might as well get cozy.”
I didn’t say anything. I closed my eyes again and tossed my head back on the couch.
The room began to spin. Cecil kept talking but I didn’t know what the fuck he was saying.
Shit sounded like whomp, whomp, whomp to me.
The music blasting was really the only thing I could hear.
An old ass Jeezy song. If I were sober, I would have remembered the name of it.
Drunk and high, I could only take a trip down memory lane.
Song took me back to a happier time. I was on knucklehead nigga shit, but I was happy.
Happier. My shorty was my shorty and shit was copacetic.
I wasn’t like this. Back then, God still gave a fuck about me.
He couldn’t give a fuck about me now. I prayed, prayed and prayed but what I get? This. The short end of the stick.
I laughed and dragged my hands down my face.
Karma was eating me the fuck up, wasn’t it?
Crazy how shit came back full circle like that.
Crazy how I thought I’d gotten away with what I did.
I thought I was scot-free. Thought just because I changed, life would look up.
And to be honest, that’s how shit should have gone.
I didn’t see why I was being punished for something I did when I was a different nigga. Fuck was this, bro?
“Look at you,” said Tali, plopping down next to me on the couch.
Where the fuck she come from and where Cecil go?
Lazily, I opened my eyes and looked over at her. With a snort, I said, “Look at you. Fuck?”
She giggled and turned to face me, pulling her legs up on the couch. “Look at me. Ain’t nowhere near as fucked up as you. I can’t believe it. Ducati Morris, drunk and high.”
I didn’t say anything. I turned away from her and closed my eyes again. I felt her move closer, but I didn’t say anything. A second later, I felt her lift one of my eyelids.
“Helloooo,” she sang.
I moved away. Sucking my teeth, I opened my eyes and looked over at her. “Stop playin. Why you fuckin’ with my eyes and shit?”
“Because I’m trying to talk to you but you falling asleep.”
“I’m not falling asleep. I’m coolin.”
“Mmhmm,” she paused. “Did you eat any of the spaghetti Char made?”
I sucked my teeth. “Hell naw. She be putting too much sugar in her shit.”
She laughed. “Facts. I can go grab you something from Coney if you want. I know you’re hungry. You’ve been here for hours off no food, just drink. That’s probably why you so fucked up.”
“I’m straight,” I dismissed. “I’m about to skate in a minute.”
“Mm, mm,” She hummed. “You’re not leaving. Tank grabbed your keys off the table already. And you need to eat… so I’m about to grab you something. You still eat wing dings and chili cheese fries like you used to?”
I looked over at her. “Hell yeah. I’m good though, Tali. You don’t have to grab me shit. I’m about to grab my keys from that nigga and… and get the fuck on. I’ll grab food on the way to the room.”
“Room?”
Fuck. I didn’t want muthafuckas to know I was staying at a room.
I slipped. I needed people to think shit was smooth.
I didn’t want these niggas in my business.
I especially didn’t want Talia’s ass to know.
She would run to Char, running her mouth, who would then tell my business to Tank.
Had I been in my right mind, I would have never slipped like that.
I dragged my hands down my face. “Nah… Uh..”
“You staying at a room? Uh oh. It’s trouble in paradise huh? You ain’t gotta lie. I know a hurt nigga when I see one. You definitely not leaving now—
“Don’t tell them niggas my business, Tali.”
“I’m not. But I am grabbing you something to eat. I’ll be right back,” she said before getting up.
I don’t know how long I was sitting there with my eyes closed before I was being shaken awake. The smell of chili cheese fries immediately hit my nostrils, and I peeled my eyes open. Tali was setting the food up on the coffee table, leaned over, opening trays.
She looked over her shoulder at me. “And you said you weren’t falling asleep. Here. I grabbed you a Gatorade too because yo ass gone be dehydrated.”
I sighed and sat up. Running my hand down over my head, I looked over at her. “‘Preciate it, Tali. On some real shit, you really didn’t have to.”
“Stop saying that,” she said, playfully hitting me. “You know I got you. Name a time you was here and I didn’t have your back.”
She twisted her lips up, waiting for me to say something.
But I didn’t. Because I couldn’t. Any time I was at Tank’s house, Tali was on my ass, always offering a helping hand, trying to fix me plates and drinks and shit.
I never really took her up on her offers though because I knew what type of time she was on.
Tali wanted me to fuck. And she wanted me to fuck real bad.
She wasn’t blatant with offering the pussy, but I was a nigga and could pick up on the signs with ease.
I steered clear of her fine, thick ass on purpose.
Like I said before, I would never fuck with anybody in our circle.
Fuck I look like? Making my wife look bad?
She reached over and grabbed the Gatorade, opening it. “Here. Drink some of this first—
“I’m smooth, Tali. I’m a grown ass man,” I joked, moving away from the bottle, as I sat back against the couch, with a wing in my hand.
I bit into it and closed my eyes, resting my head on the back of the couch.
I didn’t want no fuckin’ Gatorade. I wanted another shot of whatever the fuck I’d been drinking tonight.
I didn't know what the fuck them niggas were pouring up. When I ran out of my Don, I had my cup out for whatever they were sipping on. Knowing them, it was probably Espolon. I didn’t give a fuck for real.
I just wanted to be numb. I just wanted to feel something other than what I felt, and the drink did a good ass job helping me with that.
Every now and then, my mind wandered though and I thought about my current situation.
Thought about missing my wife and wanting to fix shit.
That was why I needed my keys, for real.
Was going to pull up at the crib and get her to listen to me.
I’d been trying for days. Sent her a crazy amount of text messages.
Long ass paragraphs too. Trying to get her to understand the situation.
She didn’t respond though. Left me on read every single fuckin’ time.
You know how that felt? Not being heard?
Not being given a fuck about? Being left out here in the fuckin’ wilderness without her? Shit felt empty. Shit felt lonely.
Even tonight, sitting at the table with my niggas, drinking, talking, playing cards, listening to music and shit, I felt alone.
Felt like I didn't belong. Because realistically, I didn't. I didn’t fuck with these niggas for real like that. I wasn’t an outside nigga.
I was a sometimey, pop up every now and then type nigga.
I was a family man. I stayed my ass at the crib.
This wasn’t me, but I couldn’t spend another moment in that hotel room alone.
“Why don’t you ever let me take care of you, Duke?” Tali asked.
I cut my eyes at her. “I don’t need you to take care of me, Tali. Fuck you talkin about?”
She crossed her leg over the other and propped her elbow up on the back of the couch, resting her head on her balled fist, looking at me. “Not like that. I’m sayin… every time I try to help you, you turn me down. Why?”
I didn't say anything. I groaned and bit into the wing, dropping it on my chest right after. She giggled, reached over and picked it up. Putting it up to my mouth she said, “See? I got you. Here. Open up.”
Like a dumb ass, I listened. Opened my mouth and let her feed me. Not because I wanted her to but because I couldn’t help myself. I was drunk as hell and delusional, for real. A second later, she did it again. Before I knew it, she was dead ass feeding me and to be real, I was enjoying it.
“Here,” she said, with a forkful of chili fries to my mouth. I took the fork in, and I swear I heard her moan a little. “You be acting so funny.”
“No, I don’t,” I said, dodging the fork this time, putting my hand up. “I’m cool.”
She sucked her teeth. “See? I’m just trying to… feed you. Why won't you let me feed you, Ducati?”