Page 36 of When I Thug You Like That

“Cause you a real nigga,” I joked, but Tay ain’t find shit about my toxic ways funny.

“Yeah. And this real nigga don’t wanna hear shit about what you and India got going on when she pull the same stunt. If you gon’ keep fuckin’, then don’t keep complainin’.”

“You done?”

“Yeah, I’m done.”

“Aight, cool. Love, nigga.”

“Love, dummy.”

Tay climbed into his car and pulled off, leaving me standing outside recounting his unsolicited real nigga wisdom. Crazy thing was, he was deadass right, but that didn’t stop me from getting in my car and heading to India’s crib. It never did.

Each time my dick found its way back on India’s side of town, I knew I was blurring the lines and creating problems for myself. The fucked-up part was, even though she pissed me off most days with her decision making and often made it hard to communicate, she also knew her way around this dick. She knew how to ride this muthafucka and take it to the back of her throat with ease. I was lowkey addicted to her sex, and I knew her lil’ ass knew it. And yeah, I had a plethora of pussy at my beck and call, but hers was… home.

A dysfunctional, toxic home, but still home.

Taking out my phone, I went to my recent call list and tapped her number. The phone rang twice before her voice filled the car.

“What?”

“You busy?”

“Yeah. I was just about to go out.”

I glanced at the time and frowned. “Fuck you going at this time of night and you got my son?”

I could hear her suck her teeth and was certain that an eye roll followed.

“Stop asking stupid questions and you won’t get a stupid response. What you want, Jay?”

“Pussy.” I didn’t mince words with India. The more straightforward I was when I pulled up late like this, then it left no room for misunderstanding.

She scoffed. “Sorry, I’m closed for the night.”

“Well, open up ‘cause I’m coming over.”

“Umm, no, you’re not.”

“I wasn’t asking your permission.”

“Jamison, I said no.” She whispered into the phone, letting me know that Baby Jay was likely nearby.

“Jay in the bed witchu?”

“Yes.”

I sucked my teeth. “What I tell you ‘bout that? He’s a growing boy; he don’t need to be sleeping wit’ you. He got a whole room decked out wit’ a big ass bed. Put him in it.”

“He does sleep in his bed. He just falls asleep in mine first. If this makes him comfortable, I don’t see the big deal.”

“I’m starting to think it’s more for your comfort than his.”

India had this thing where she let Baby Jay curl up in her bed and would sometimes rock him to sleep. I told her that shit wasn’t cool. I mean, there was nothing wrong with soothing him and making sure he was comfortable, but he was five. I’d rather make a comfortable environment in his own space than have him thinking he needed another person beside him to settle down every night. To me, it just set an expectation that he’d take wherever he spent the night, and I couldn’t have that, especially because I couldn’t control every environment he’d eventually find himself in or everybody he’d be around as he got older. The world we lived in was too predatory, and I was too trigger happy.

“It’s definitely his, and if it’s not a problem for me, it shouldn’t be for you. I’ma ‘bout to hang up.”

An argument with her would only make my dick soft, so I dropped the conversation. “I’ll be there in a moment.”