11. LaMia Sellers #3
Ayan damn near flew across the room to get in my face, seething. “Yeah? And the fuck you doing around that nigga to where he can see a fucking bruise on yo’ face, LaMia? Hmm?” His face twitched a smidgen as he awaited my answer that would never come.
He had me there. Whenever Ayan hit me in the face, he wouldn’t allow me to leave the house, so I couldn’t say at the gym during one of his practices or anywhere that would put me in a place with Rakim by myself.
“I—”
“Exactly, bitch. See, you think everybody fucking stupid.” He laughed maniacally, shaking his head as he walked off toward his underwear drawer. “Oh, and you not coming with me tonight. We done.”
“Done?” I croaked. “What do you mean? And I already hired a babysitter for the event, Ayan.”
“What it sound like, dummy?” He eyed me, somewhat repulsed. “We over. And if them kids ain’t mine, I’m gon’ have Jojo murk you.” He slammed the bathroom door, leaving me there stupefied.
I was beside myself, not sure how to move or what to say in the moment. I felt as if I’d wasted five years of my life with this man and endured some of the most horrific things all for nought. It was clear he didn’t love me anymore, but I was confused on where the switch up happened.
But then . . . it hit me. Daylin. Rakim was besotted with her which in turn meant he no longer coveted me. I didn’t believe that, but Ayan had clearly been able to ascertain this, and now his desire for me had dwindled.
Oh, and I won’t tell him I don’t want you . . .
Suddenly, Rakim’s words from years ago had seeped into my head. I hadn’t understood them when he said it, but now I did. It was a reiteration of what Zaire tried to warn me of. To Ayan, I was no longer a prize or something to dangle in front of his brother’s eyes.
Hearing the doorbell, I grabbed my phone from the bedside table to see the babysitter, Amina, was here. I was about to tell her over the speaker to go home and that she wasn’t needed for the night but decided against it.
Ascending, I left the room and hurried down the stairs to open the door for her.
“Sorry I am late. There was traffic on the way for some reason.” Amina walked in, smiling brightly like always, and sometimes, it aggravated me. To see someone so overjoyed and full of life bothered me because it was such a far cry from my own experiences.
“No problem.” I shut the door, pushing my tattered strands to the back. “Um, Ayanna is asleep already. She wore herself out and didn’t take a nap, so she crashed early. AJ should be in his room playing a game on his tablet,” I ran off, and Amina nodded as she put her coat on the rack.
“Perfect. Has he eaten dinner already?” Her eyes bounced around my face, reminding me that Ayan had just hit me.
“No, they um, snacked all day.” I bypassed her, not giving a fuck what she thought about my parenting for the day or my injuries.
I was stressed the entire day, waiting for Ayan to walk through that door, if he even chose to. That was all I did these days—sit around the house with the kids, if Amina wasn’t here, and wait for Ayan to tell me my next move.
I had a career as a hairstylist when I was with Rakim, but when I got with Ayan, he wanted me to quit and promised he would take care of me. Like the idiot I was, I listened, and now here I was with two kids, no ring, and now no man.
With Ayan occupied by the shower and AJ being monitored by Amina, I had some free time. So I decided I was going to pay Rakim a visit.
The last few times I saw him, I was still trying to hang onto what I had with Ayan, but now that I had no choice but to move on, I would profess my love for him.
As I hastily pored over the clothes in my closet to find something cute, sexy, but not too conspicuous, I heard Ayan’s phone going crazy on the nightstand. Leaving my walk-in, I trod toward it and saw the contact was stored with a few hearts, making my own plummet to my ass.
With tears threatening to fall from my eyes, I scooped the device up to answer it. “Hello?”
“Who is this?” the woman asked, attitude drenching her tone.
“Ayan’s woman, who the fuck is this?” I snapped, clutching the phone so hard I felt like it would crack at any minute.
“Well, tell Ayan his other woman called because I need to know which of these dresses he sent me is preferred by him. I like to please my man.”
“You stupid bi—” The line went dead before I could finish my insult.
Just then, I heard the water in the bathroom shut off, so perfect timing.
It was rare that I confronted Ayan about his other women because it was a pointless effort.
I knew I wasn’t leaving, and I didn’t want to risk him punching me in the face for it, but I was too infuriated by the culmination of tonight’s events that I couldn’t hold back.
“The fuck!” Ayan bellowed when I burst into the bathroom to see him standing at the sink, towel around his waist.
“Some bitch just called your fucking phone!”
“What she say?” he asked, sending shockwaves throughout my body.
“What did she say?” I parroted in disbelief. I could feel my eyebrows resting at my hairline.
“If you not gon’ tell me, get the fuck out ’fore you piss me off.”
“You sent her dresses? You’re taking another girl tonight? The media is gonna have a fucking field day, Ayan. Everybody knows we’re together, and now you’re gonna take some random bitch. How are you gonna explain that?” I quickly wiped the tears that began skiing down my face without fail.
I felt broken and weak.
“Simple. You and I broke up and I moved on.” He wet his toothbrush, laced it with toothpaste, and then started brushing as if this were a perfectly normal conversation.
Recognizing this was an unavailing conversation, I shut the bathroom door and proceeded to put on one of the black short numbers in my closet.
Combing my hair into a high ponytail, I dusted my face with a little skin tint since I wasn’t in the mood to doll myself up anymore, and the bruises starting to formulate were small and light.
Rakim had loved me and wouldn’t care about how beat my face was.
Exiting the home without saying a word to neither Amina nor Ayan, I climbed into my car and started en route to my man’s house.
If I had to get on my knees and beg, I would.
I loved him and was ready to do whatever was needed to be back in perfect harmony with him.
I didn’t even care that he sold drugs, especially since I’d overheard Jojo saying Rakim wanted to focus solely on the gym and bakery since they were both doing so well.
Arriving at his home, I pressed the big green button on the speaker. Time passed, but no one answered. Nevertheless, the gates opened for me, so I surmised that Rakim saw me on the camera and just let me in.
Parking, I scoffed at the fact that I forgot to put on any earrings. I was still beautiful, though, so it didn’t matter.
Exiting the car, I made my way up the walkway and to the front door. Taking a deep breath, I reached to ring the doorbell, but before I could, the door started to open up.
My smile faltered instantaneously at the sight of Daylin standing there, frowning. She wore some tiny ass gray shorts, a little triangle bra, and her hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck with a part on the side.
She was a beautiful girl, but due to the incensed look that had taken over, you could hardly see. Her creamy caramel skin was stark in comparison to my depleted and pale one due to lack of proper care and moodiness.
That look of fury released as her eyes darted around my face, and I realized I’d only used skin tint instead of full coverage, so marks from Ayan’s strikes had most likely began to show through the light ass makeup.
“Come in.” She retreated from the door, allowing me inside.
“Thanks.” I bobbed my head, feeling awkward because I hadn’t expected her to be in his house. “Do you live here?” I tried to chuckle it off, but she didn’t return the gesture.
Sure, I knew they were a thing, I guess, but Rakim hadn’t shown any true interest in anyone since me. I figured it was because he was still enamored with me, but I wasn’t too sure anymore, seeing her in his home.
“None of your business, LaMia. Rakim is my man, and who lives in his house is only his and my concern. The only reason I didn’t snatch you in here by your hair and knock your fucking head around is because I can see Ayan beat me to it.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat while nodding to say I understood. I was embarrassed for more reasons than one.
“Can I clean my face somewhere?”
“Guest bathroom.” She started that way, and I followed her like a fool.
I didn’t know why I was even here still when the sole purpose for me showing up was now dead.
Rakim clearly wasn’t even here, and niggas didn’t leave women they weren’t serious about in their house alone.
The thought made tears threaten to fall as I watched Daylin pull out some alcohol wipes from the first aid kit.
“Thanks,” I whispered as I looked in the mirror, frightened by the sight. The bathroom’s bright illumination put a magnifying glass on my injuries, making the skin tint look like a joke.
“I will get you some ice.” She left.