Chapter Nine #3
“That’s the thing though, I don’t need you and haven’t needed you since you walked out the door. Sage thinks he needs you because he misses having a mother figure, but I’m sure he’ll wake up soon.”
“So you want him to hate me, too?”
“Pepper,” Logic angrily chuckled. “Hate isn’t a word to describe the way I feel about you. I once thought you were the epitome of a woman. You were hard-working, you loved your kids, and you took care of home. I wanted a woman just like you.”
“So you do remember,” Pepper smiled.
“And then you met that nigga.” He wiped the smile off her lips.
“You started leaving the kids with me more, staying out late, and cooking less. You started treating me like a built-in babysitter while you ran the streets with that nigga, and then you fucking left. So nah, I don’t hate you, I pity you because you’ll never bounce back from the fucked up shit you did. ”
“I sent money when I could.”
“Pepper, please. You sent fifty dollars here and there, but you walked in this bitch with a fresh weave and new nails. Save the money excuses for Sage because he doesn’t know any better.”
“Wow.”
“Lo, come get your brother before I knock his head off his shoulders,” Spice called out.
“You ain’t gone do nothing to me. All I did was ask you to apologize to mama,” Sage barked.
“Boy, I'm not apologizing to her and nobody else. I said what I said.”
“Period,” Shugg cosigned.
“I guess I’ll let you take care of them.” Pepper backed out of the front door as the teens continued to go back and forth. “Tell Sage I’ll call him.”
“Don’t.” Logic closed the door in her face.
Instead of going into the room to defuse the situation with his siblings, Logic took a seat on the couch and picked up a prerolled blunt from the tray on the coffee table. His mind was everywhere, and instead of venting to his best friend, Logic lit his blunt and picked up his notebook.
???
Much later that night, across town, Tyler sat on Dexter’s lap while he tried to make words rhyme.
She could tell he was getting frustrated because he kept throwing back drinks and hitting every blunt that was passed to him.
Tyler had already written the first two verses, and he was still struggling with the last one.
“Ty, man, come on and write the shit.” Dexter bounced her on his knee. “I can’t fucking focus.” He nuzzled his nose into her neck. “I need you, baby.”
Sighing, Tyler rolled her eyes and picked up her phone to go through her notes. She had already started writing the last verse because this was their routine. He’d half ass try and then beg her to fix it. Before Tyler could open the app, her phone vibrated.
313-446-9612
You up?
The text from the not-so-unknown number caused Tyler to pull the corner of her lip into her mouth. She glanced up at Dexter, whose mouth was moving but her loud heartbeat drowned out the sound of his voice.
Didn’t I tell you to delete my number? Tyler quickly replied.
313-446-9612
Can I call you?
Call me? She thought. Is this nigga stupid or dumb?
“What do you think?” Dexter asked, bringing Tyler’s attention back to her current situation.
“Huh?” She glanced up from her phone, discreetly deleting the text thread.
“The fuck you doing?” He snatched the phone from her. “Why you not listening?”
It was a little after two in the morning, and their apartment was full of people, half of them she didn’t know, but Dexter cleared them to be there.
He claimed he needed the crowd for inspiration, but in the four hours they’d been there, Dexter hadn’t written a word, and Tyler was overstimulated.
Bobbi and a couple of her friends were spread throughout the room, providing entertainment for the many men who sat on countertops, couches, and posted up against the wall.
Drinks, weed, and a couple of other drugs flowed freely through the space, and the darkness in the room provided enough privacy for bumping and grinding.
“I finally write some shit, and you don’t pay attention, what the fuck?”
“Because I can’t hear over all the autotune.” Tyler snatched her phone right back. “Your voice sounds like Alexa.”
“Watch your mouth, Ty. Real shit,” Dexter gritted in her ear. “Fuck is you doing anyway, you supposed to be helping me with this shit.”
“I am helping, what are you talking about? I wrote the first two verses, but whatever that was,” she pointed out, “It doesn’t go with the rest of the song.”
“I like it.” Bobbi stood to her feet and started popping her ass.
The skirt she wore rose over her hips, showing off the lip print tattoos on her ass cheeks.
“The beat is nice, that’s all we care about,” she said, tossing her long weave over her shoulder.
Sticking out her tongue, Bobbi skillfully made her ass bounce to the beat.
Her friends took that as a sign and started dancing with her.
“They seem to like it,” Dexter smirked, pulling from the blunt between his fingers.
“And they also think a $40.00 meal is five-star dining. The fuck?” Tyler frowned, watching her cousin and a couple of her friends grind on each other in the middle of the floor. “I’m about to go get some air.” She stood up.
“Aight and take something while you’re back there. You’re acting too uptight for me,” Dexter uttered, adjusting his dick. “Loosen up and come help me fix this verse since it’s so bad. New niggas entering this rap shit and I need to come a little harder.”
“Uh-huh.” Tyler inwardly rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back.”
“Aight.” Dexter patted her on the ass.
Tyler peered back at Bobbi and the hoe crew once more before heading to her bedroom.
A part of her wanted to put them out and slap her cousin for shaking her ass in Dexter’s presence, then again, this was normal for them.
Had she been high, Tyler would have been right next to them while Dexter recorded.
Slipping into the bathroom, Tyler locked the door and sat on the counter. Her fingers hovered over the screen, debating if she should answer.
“Oh my god, this is stupid,” she laughed, climbing off the counter. “Bitch, you in a whole relationship,” Tyler chastised herself. “Back the fuck up.”
Bzzzz bzzzz
The vibrating phone danced across the counter, sending her heart to the pit of her stomach. Tyler thought he’d hang up after a few rings, but the caller was persistent.
“Aw shit,” she mumbled. “Just answer and let this nigga know you’re not that kinda girl, the fuck,” Tyler whispered to her reflection.
“This fangirling is getting a little out of hand,” she jested, answering the phone. “I didn’t say you could call me, and I could have sworn I told you to delete my number.”
“What up doe?” Logic’s deep voice penetrated her ear.
“Didn’t I tell you to delete my number?” Tyler repeated.
“Damn, can you greet a nigga before you start tossing out orders?”
“Fine. Hi stalker, didn’t I tell you to delete my number?”
“I already told you I wasn’t deleting shit. Where yo nigga at?”
“Why?”
“'Cause you answered, so I’m guessing he ain’t around.”
“Sir, it’s two in the morning, why wouldn't he be around?” Tyler said matter-of-factly.
“You ain’t about that life, shorty.” Logic lowly chortled. “You wouldn’t answer the phone with that nigga in your face.”
“I’m grown and I don’t answer to anyone.”
“You be talking so much shit.”
“Because I can back it up, duh.”
“Aight, since you so grown, I dare you to slap that nigga out of his sleep.”
“Oop,” Tyler snickered. “You’re childish.”
“If you scared, just say that.”
“For your information, I’m in the bathroom and he’s not sleeping.”
“Damn, you got this cheating shit down pat.” Logic shook his head. “I thought you were one of the good ones.”
“I’m not cheating, I only answered to tell you that this is not cool. And I didn’t personally give you my number, your creep ass stole it.”
“Blah, blah, blah. I’m not trying to hear that shit, I just wanna talk.”
“Then phone a friend.”
“You don’t wanna talk to me?” Logic interrogated, waking up the butterflies in the pit of her stomach.
“Not really, you’re trouble.” Tyler lied, not willing to admit that she liked the sound of his voice, and she was enjoying the cat-and-mouse game they created just as much as he did.
“I’m good trouble though.” He grinned.
“The lies you tell.” She rolled her eyes. “Why are you up?”
“Smoking.” He exhaled. “Thinking, writing. I had a long fucking day.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Tyler asked before her brain could process what her mouth was doing.
“Only if I can get a hug afterwards.”
“Never mind, keep it to yourself.”
“That’s bold as fuck.” Logic coughed, exhaling the smoke trapped in his lungs. “What if I really needed a hug?”
“Fine, I’ll give you a hug the next time I see you.”
“Yea right. Yo ass be trying to run from a nigga.”
“You right, you right,” Tyler giggled. “I’m lying, but you can tell me what’s on your mind.”
“It’s family shit.” Logic exhaled. “I’m not trying to talk about my life problems on the phone though. So you gotta come see me.”
“Are you crazy? I can’t just leave in the middle of the night to come pat your back.”
“Why not, I’m sad.”
“If I was your girl, would you let me leave in the middle of the night to go see some other nigga?”
“If you were mine, you wouldn’t be hiding in the bathroom talking to another nigga on the phone.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Because you wouldn't have a reason to converse with another nigga. I’d be all you need.”
“You talk big shit.”
“I can back up every word, baby girl.”
“Whatever.” Tyler swallowed the lump in her throat. “What were you writing?” she asked, pulling her knees to her chest, resting her chin on her knees.
“A lil something. It’s not ready yet though, so I can’t tell you.”
“I respect that.”
“What’s up with you though, you at home?” Logic asked, slouching down in his seat.
“Yea, why?”
“'Cause I hear music.”
“Oh, Dex has company.”
“Yall having a Diddy party?” Logic arched his eyebrow.