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“Then why the fuck did you kill it?” she screamed.
I ran my hand down my face, pissed that I had to relive these demons. I thought that part of life was over and done with. I didn’t think I would have to talk about this shit again.
“You know what went down that night. Listen, you better get the fuck up out of my face, like right fuckin’ now before I beat the fuck out of your ass,” I let her know, dead ass serious.
“Yeah, because it’s not like it’ll be your first time doing it. We’ll keep in touch,” she said.
“You keep saying that shit as if I owe you time for something. Hoe, pretend I’m dead, and don’t say shit to me. We won’t keep in touch, man. Keep fuckin’ playing with me, Kenyatta, like you don’t know that I will seriously harm you. I don’t take too kindly to you popping your ass up on me and saying shit to me like you out for revenge or some shit. It ain’t even me that you need to be worried about, though. It’s my wife, who’s ten times fuckin’ crazier than your ass, and that’s on her fuckin’ good day.
“I don’t know what you’re trying to stir up or what old can of worms you’re trying to bring out of the bag, but you better leave the shit alone. I’ll reach out and touch you if I want to. Don’t get excited by that either because you know what I’m trying to say,” I let her know.
It wasn’t even a threat; I was letting this bitch know that I would kill her ass if I had to. I could see the hairs standing up on her arm. She looked at me long and hard for a few seconds, and then she walked away. I sighed, shaking my head. I knew the type of bitch Kenyatta was. Therefore, I knew that she was going to try to get to my wife and put a few bugs in her ear about our past.
Right hand to God, I ain’t never fucked that bitch without a condom. Her mouth got her ass beat that night; not the fact that she was pregnant. I blacked out, and I fuckin’ lost it, causing her to lose the baby that she was pregnant with. Just thinking about that shit had put me in a fuckin’ funk. I hated having to relive old ass history.
Kenyatta Strong
Thirteen years ago
“Can you get me a ginger ale when you go inside? I been feeling funny all day,” I said to Jabari the second he stepped out of the car to go inside the gas station.
We’d just pulled up, and he was going in to pay for his gas in cash. I felt so uncomfortable in my seat because we’d just finished fuckin’ almost ten minutes ago, and because he didn’t have any napkins or anything for me to wipe myself off with when we were done, I ended up having to slip my panties back on without wiping, and now I just felt sticky and dirty. My hair was sweated out, and my head was killing me. I’d been feeling this way for weeks. On top of that, constant urination and fatigue are what had me purchasing a cheap ass pregnancy test today at the dollar store before Jabari had picked me up.
As cheap as the tests were, I ended up taking five of them, and they all said the same thing; I was pregnant. Pregnant, and I knew in my heart that my child belonged to Jabari. Yes, I dealt with other guys, but I wasn’t having sex with them. I’d get my pussy ate from another nigga, but Jabari was the only nigga serving me dick. We had sex in the oddest places too. Most times, we were fuckin’ in his car or somewhere in a public bathroom. I knew I deserved better because I wasn’t even good enough to properly get fucked on a bed.
Jabari was mean and so fuckin’ heartless, but because I liked him so much, I wouldn’t dare tell him how I felt because I knew that he would try to cut me off. He let it be known on more than one occasion that I wasn’t the only bitch that he was dealing with, but my strong like for him is what had me sticking around. Sticking around and being straight up disrespected and dogged. On the many sex excursions that him and I had, Jabari had to admit that a few times, we’d had incidents when the condom had broken. He claimed that each time one broke, it would always be right before he nutted, but he was a nigga, and that’s what niggas do; they lie!
What gave it away that he was lying would be the Plan B that he would have me taking, which I would never actually swallow because having his baby was just some shit that I couldn’t pass up. Jabari was that nigga in Atlanta, and although he was only nineteen, all the bitches, including myself, wanted him. To me, it would be almost an honor to carry his child, so fuck that weak ass Plan B that he was trying to give me!
Since I found out that I was pregnant this morning, I hadn’t stopped smiling. I’d sent a text to Jabari right after, asking if we could hang because I did plan to tell him the news, it’s just that as soon as we met up and I got in the car with him, I had to give him what he always wanted when we met up, which was pussy!
Almost five minutes later, he finally walked out of the store holding a bag in his hands. He opened the driver’s side door, threw the bag down on the seat, and he went over to the pump and let it fill up. I intensely watched him as he got back into the seat and started taking the wrap for his weed out of the bag. The whole time, we didn’t really say anything to each other. The most talking that he and I ever did was when we were fuckin’ because other than that, he acted as if everything that I did annoyed him.
“Where I’m taking you to?” he asked me after he rolled up.
Jabari was already high, so I didn’t even know why he was smoking again. On top of that, when he picked me up, I could tell that he was tipsy. The liquor was on his breath, and since it was in his system, it made him fuck me better than he usually did. Jabari always fucked good, but I felt that when liquor was in his system, it made him more vulnerable toward me.
“I don’t want to go home yet. My mama over there with her boyfriend, and I told you that I hate being over there while he’s there. What were you about to do?” I asked.
“I was about to take your ass home so I could go home. Speak quick, shorty, because gas ain’t free. You don’t have a cousin, auntie, or a friend that I can drop you off to?” he asked with the blunt hanging from the corner of his mouth.
“Why I can’t spend a couple of hours with you? Didn’t I hear you on the phone with your homie, saying that your mama would be out of town for the next few days? Why can’t you invite me over? You let me come in once,” I whined.
“Yeah, because you all but begged to, and because I didn’t want you pissing in my car. I gotta swing that way anyway to drop something off, then I’m taking your ass home. You trying to make this situation more than what it is, shorty,” he let me know, and I sat there smiling because at least I was going to go home with him.
Jabari was so fine, even though he was dressed so laid back right now. All he had on was a black wife beater, some black sweats, and slides were on his feet. He was starting the whole wave thing, so a do rag was on his head. He’d just started getting tattoos on his body, and my favorite was the big one that he had on his neck. I damn near squirted every time I saw him because he was just that fine. I could only imagine what our son would look like, if that’s what I was carrying. Hell, even our daughter. Just thinking about that had me sitting there in a daze.
Almost ten minutes later, we pulled up to his mom’s house, and there weren’t any cars in the driveway. He shut the car off and reached for something under the seat. I wasn’t sure what it was because it was in a black bag. I knew he wouldn’t tell me what he had, so I didn’t even bot
her to ask. I followed him onto the porch, and in no time, he had the door open and let the two of us inside.
While he went to the back to put whatever he had away, I sat out front in the living room area. It took about five minutes for me to hear him making his way outside to the front where I was.
“Let’s go. I didn’t bring you here to chill,” he voiced.
“Come here, Jabari. I got to tell you something,” I said.
“Tell me what?” he questioned.
