20. LaMia #2
“I never loved you. I liked you, a lot, and was probably headed in that fucking direction, but God had other plans, and I’m thankful.
Only thing I’d change is who you fucked with because I’m pretty sure my brother’s and my relationship is irreparable.
But I’m in love with Daylin. Make no fucking mistake about that.
There ain’t no competition, because you not even in the same weight class. ”
“I was with you way longer!” I yelled, offended by his words as if Daylin was so much better than me.
“Exactly.” He bore into my eyes, making me retreat a little.
“Don’t make me have to reiterate this shit, or I might let my piece do the talking, LaMia.
I’m in a very serious, strict, forever fucking lasting relationship, and if I see anybody trying to snake their way in and decimate it, I’m gon’ have to end the problem before it gets there. You the cancer, I’m the chemo.”
I nodded slowly, catching on to his slightly veiled threat.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” I sobbed, feeling extremely misguided and lost.
When Ayan asked me to quit working, he posed it as him loving me so much that he wanted me to travel with him for his fights while he took care of me.
It sounded amazing at the time and had me looking at Rakim sideways for not offering the same.
But upon reflection, I realized it was Ayan’s way of disabling me whereas Rakim wanted me to be able to retain some of my independence.
Sadly, I began to lose myself in Ayan overtime, and it only worsened when we had kids. Now, here I was jobless, with no man, and living in a home that I had no ownership in. How I dated two millionaires and still ended up in this position was inexplicable.
“I hope you got enough sense to leave that nigga before he kill you. You keep allowing that muthafucka to take his frustrations out on yo’ face, you ain’t gon’ be here much longer.”
Though Rakim was giving me helpful advice, the way he spoke hurt.
He wasn’t bothered by my situation, making it obvious he truly didn’t care about me.
All this time I was making it through the day convincing myself Rakim was simply smothering his feelings for me because he couldn’t expose them, when really, there were none.
He’d been shouting it to me through a bullhorn, but I’d assumed it was a facade.
“H-he didn’t used to be this way,” I confessed, trying to make myself look better. “He used to treat me like fucking gold, Rah.”
Glancing off momentarily and squinting at the sun, Rakim focused back on me, licking his sexy lips.
“Let me put you onto something that I don’t think is quite clicking to yo’ slow ass.
Ayan never wanted you. He got with you because at the time you were mine and I wanted you.
Nigga been like that since we were kids.
If my mama offered us a choice of two cones, Ayan would pick his, but as soon as I chose mine, he’d want that one.
If I didn’t want something, neither did he. That shit continued into adulthood.
“He been noticing that I ain’t stressing ’bout you, so his interest started to wane. That’s why he treating you like shit, cheating in ya fucking face and some mo’ shit, ’cause he know I don’t want yo’ ass. Now, he don’t want yo’ ass.”
Tears flowed down my face in abundance as I listened to Rakim’s logic. It’d been so obvious, but I refused to believe Ayan took me and made a life with me merely to spite his twin. But the signs were there, and I could no longer deny it.
“I see.”
“You don’t mean shit to that nigga, and the sooner you realize it, the better. Would hate to have to see my niece and nephew lose their mother,” he said.
That was all I was to Rakim now—AJ and Ayanna’s mother. I used to be the girl he’d put a bullet in a nigga for. Now, he was telling me to save myself from my abusive relationship.
If I could go back in time, not only would I not have left him while imprisoned, but I would’ve basked in the time we had prior to his confinement a little more.
If someone would’ve told me back then that Rakim would be nonchalant and shrugging at someone causing me harm, I wouldn’t have believed it. But here we were.
“I don’t even have a job and two small kids. It’s not that easy.”
“You got good peoples, LaMia. Move back home, get a fucking job, go to school, get back into hair or some shit, and put that muthafucka on child support like a normal person.”
I expected him to say he had me, but I should’ve known better.
“He told me he’d murder me if I put him on child support,” I revealed.
Rakim snickered subtly.
“Ayan don’t know the first thing about murder.
He may kill you accidentally by punching ya fucking face in, but he ain’t gon’ pick up a gun and drop you.
He ain’t like that. It ain’t in him. But it’s yo’ life, LaMia.
You wanna stay with him, if he allow you to, go’ head, lil mama.
I’m gon’ always make sure them two are good whether you here or not.
” He pointed behind me to where my kids were in the car.
“Mommy, I’m hungry!” AJ growled impatiently. “Let’s go!”
“Aye, nah.” Rakim shook his head at my son. “That’s not how you talk to women, especially ya mama. Ask nicely, AJ.”
With his little shoulders drooping, he replied, “Mommy, can we please go get some food? I’m gonna faint,” he reiterated, making Rakim and me chuckle.
“Yes.” I bobbed my head, and he shut the back door.
“He ain’t learning that shit on his own. Get out of there, LaMia,” was the last thing Rakim said before swaggering off, giving me one last glimpse of him.
Despite his words about never loving me and never wanting me, my heart still quickened in my chest as I took him in.
And still, though he wasn’t mine to pester, I still wondered who he’d taken a DNA test for.
I could only hope he’d cheated on the girl he claimed to love so much and possibly knocked someone up.
Once Rakim got to his car, never looking back, I made an about face and got into my own, processing our conversation.
* * *
ALMOST A WEEK LATER . . .
“Hi, I’m here to see Ayan Godfrey,” I said to the hotel clerk of the Maybourne Hotel.
The place was beautiful and smelled expensive, making me miss the life I used to have as Ayan’s main chick.
I couldn’t remember the last time he’d romanced me in any kind of way.
Maybe shortly after Ayanna was born, he did the most for me, making sure Rakim witnessed it, and I was too busy basking in it all to realize his motives.
Looking back, certain shit never made sense, like why he wanted to gift me a car at Nate’s home where, of course, Rakim, Zaire, and Josias were visiting on that same day, when we had our own residence.
Lately, Ayan wouldn’t take me out or do anything nice. If we happened to be hungry while out, we’d sit down somewhere, and if he got horny, he’d of course want sex, but there was nothing intentional anymore.
Like always, I became filled with regret as the blonde-haired woman typed on the screen before making a phone call.
Because even from prison, Rakim kept the romance alive—as much as he could at least. I got roses at my shop weekly, luxury store appointments, letters, and, of course, all my bills paid even for my shop that Ayan eventually convinced me to sell.
“Alright, you can take this temporary key and go right up.” The pretty white girl brightened up once she placed the phone back in the receiver.
“Thanks.” I retrieved the card and sauntered toward the elevator to ride up to Ayan’s suite.
He’d been living here in this hotel ever since he accused Ayan Jr. and Ayanna of being Rakim’s.
He hadn’t wanted me to visit or even bring the kids, but today for some reason, he allowed it.
Because of that, I brought along the paternity results that Rakim was sure to have expedited.
I’d had them for a few days now, but Ayan wasn’t interested in hearing about them or seeing them, which I knew was because he didn’t want to face the truth.
“Sup.” Ayan greeted me somberly as soon as I stepped inside of the beautiful and spacious suite.
He was seated on the couch, handsome as ever and shirtless while a view of the city and a grand piano rested behind him. The low fade, milky brown skin, and chiseled body were a sight for sore eyes.
Though Ayan’s insides were rotten, the man’s sexiness could never be taken from him.
His height and build alone got the girls, so throw in the face and you could understand how stressful life had been dating a man most women coveted.
Rakim caught the same amount, if not more women’s eyes, but he was loyal, leaving me to relax whenever he left the home or was propositioned by a brazen groupie or fan or random woman. Ayan was . . . not so dutiful.
“Hey. This is nice. I know you’re spending a pretty penny staying here.” I swept the room with my eyes before descending onto the couch, setting my Birkin beside me. “The house is humungous, Yan. You don’t have to be here to get space.” I baited him.
I knew the ship with Rakim had left the dock, sailed, and docked somewhere else, a.k.a.
it wasn’t happening. I realized he wasn’t just loyal to me—he was a loyal man, period, so now his loyalty resided with Daylin.
I couldn’t poach him from her no matter what, and the fact that I’d done him dirty with his brother put me at an even further disadvantage.
By saying that, I wanted to attempt to mend things with Ayan. Maybe over time he’d become the man he was when we first met, if he got to know me for me and not through envious eyes. Not to mention, what other millionaire would want a single mother with two kids?
“Nah.” He shook his head, licking the rolling paper to the blunt he was twisting up when I arrived.
Digging into my purse, I fished out the DNA results and outreached them.