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A gangster needs a down ass bitch on his team, not some whiny ass wife that was always talking about her feelings and shit. In a world that was so cold, all that feelings could get you were a wet pussy and a broken heart, or even worse… dead. So, fuck a feeling.
I hated standing around in the background and getting the leftover scraps, but I gave in to the understanding that having part of him was better than nothing at all.
“I want you – all or nothing, right now, Titus!” I directed the words toward the bathroom door, knowing he couldn’t hear me with the shower running. He would never agree to leaving her, anyway. Yet, he deserved so much more. Only a woman who has been in my position could understand the frustration that you feel, knowing that he has this deep and inexplicable love for someone else when you’re the one that can give him everything he needs.
All through high school, the boys I had crushes on always seemed to pursue
Shayla because of her flawless light skin and naturally curly hair. She had that Halle Berry look – a beauty from birth. I’ll admit that she flaunted it well.
Though we were thick as thieves, a tiny part of me envied the fact that she could attract any guy she wanted just by walking in the room. That envy festered within the pit of my soul until I acted upon it by fucking the one person she loved, Titus. It wasn’t like he was the first one of Shayla’s boyfriends that I had crept with. In the 11th grade, I broke off a boy she was calling herself liking – preppy ass Carlton Levette – with a little sum’n sum’n right under the bleachers during the homecoming game.
While Shayla was on the field performing her halftime routine, Carlton brought on his A-game performance, getting his groove on right on top of me.
Having Carlton scream out my name, “Ronnie… Oh, Ronnie!” right there in the middle of the game was the most gratifying experience I had ever had at that point in my young life. It was my way of proving that I could outdo Shayla, even if it was just by out-sexing her man.
I wanted a piece of Shayla’s world, so I took it. I used what I had to get what I wanted. It was as simple as that. I did what I had to do, knowing that once Carlton and Titus got a taste of a real woman, they would be hooked.
But I wasn’t satisfied with just creeping with Titus. Today was our anniversary – two years since the first time we took our friendship to the next level. I’d have been damned if I was going to wake him up to go home to his wife tonight to lay in a scented Jacuzzi, sip champagne and make love to her.
Besides me being second to Shayla in her presence, my baby had been good to me over the last two years. He told me that as long as I kept our rendezvous our little secret, he would keep my pockets lined and my bed warm. That was a happy arrangement for me, until now. My feelings had grown, like it or not. Now, I wanted more.
Unlike Shayla, I gave Titus what he needed in a woman, and in return, he made sure that I was well taken care of with money. My man bought me anything my pretty little head could dream up. Of course, I didn’t have the seventy-five-hundred square foot Victorian home, my choice of luxury cars, and the black Visas that Shayla had the luxury of possessing. I also doubted very seriously that he stood around bitching and trembling over missing my calls, either. But, as far as I was concerned, those things were about to change real soon.
Chapter 7
Titus
Within five minutes, I had showered and was fully dressed. Standing in front of Ronnie, I was hotter than a fire cracker with her sexy ass. I wanted to slap the taste out of her mouth, but against my vengeful judgment I decided to let her slide for not waking me up on time. I knew that beneath her hard exterior, she was just in puppy love with a nigga, man. She tried to play hard like some kind of Gangsta Boo all the time, but her feelings were wrapped all up in this so-called relationship. I guess one could call it a relationship of sorts, and having another one was exactly what I didn’t need to be doing right now. To me, our little fling was something to do – for fun, not a love connection. In the beginning, she said she felt the same way, but I knew better. I’ve been in the game too long to believe that.
I pulled out a stack of cash and left it on her nightstand. I yanked her close to me, wrapping my arms around her tight enough to let her know she was fucking with a real nigga, and squeezed that ass one more time before I left.
“Keep that thang tight for me, Ronnie. I don’t want to hear about you and another nigga over here fucking around. I’m the only one that can hit that, so don’t make me catch a case.” I smacked her hard on the ass and said, “I’ma holla at you later in the week.”
Opening the door to her bedroom, I hurried toward the front door, but not before telling her, "Even though what you pulled was foul, I left a little something for you to shop with on your nightstand.”
If Rhonda was any of my other women, I swear that I would have slapped her silly ass serious for not waking me up on time, especially since her brain dead ass had no excuse for not doing like she was told. There are two things I don’t deal well with: discrepancies with my time or discrepancies with my money. I didn’t ask my women to do nothing but shop, look sexy at all times, and do whatever the fuck I told them to do.
I seriously thought about administering that thorough backhand, over-the-shoulder, pimp slap to Rhonda’s pretty little jaw for disobeying me; however, one thing I learned early in the game was to always respect my inner circle. Those are the people that truly have my back, and Ronnie was definitely down for whatever. Therefore, I did not put my hands on her out of respect, but she was really beginning to test a real nigga like T. Rhonda, and especially Shayla, had been lucky to not be privy to my wrath, but when other tricks got foul they were straight up casualties of war, man let me tell you. Check my dental records. Titus Wilson don’t play the radio!
Man, I feel like shit for letting Shayla down again, I thought as I turned the front door handle. That’s when I felt Rhonda’s soft hand grab my arm jerking me back around to face her.
"Are you sure you can't just stay, babe?” she spoke softly, tears rolling down her face. She sounded damn near pathetic. “You can keep the money,” she continued her dramatics. “I just want you with me. It feels so right when we’re together. You don't have to go running home to Shayla all the time."
I could tell by the look on her face that Rhonda was speaking more out of desperation than wanting me to stay, and I didn’t have time for her games. She had this rivalry thing going with Shayla that I didn’t think was cute or effective.
"You know I can't do that,” I told her, raising an eyebrow, hoping she would get the picture fast. I checked my Rolex, and it read fifteen-after-ten. I really didn’t have time for her titty-baby shit tonight.
“You can do what you want, Titus, and we both know that.” She walked closer to me, put her arms around my neck, and looked into my eyes, giving me that bedroom look that I loved to see on her. It was cute, but again, not effective enough to keep me from getting home to my wife after I’d promised her I would be there. I maneuvered her arms from around my neck and stepped back.
“I don't know why you always try to play dumb when you know what the deal is.”
“Let’s change the deal, then. It can be me and you.”
Aw shit, I thought. She thought she was about to get me caught up in another hour of this whining, and I didn’t have time for the boo boo. “Look, little mama, I'm a married man, remember? I’m your best friend’s husband, not yours. It's bad enough I got to deal with her when I get home. I ain’t got time for this.”
“But Titus…” she attempted to put her arms back around my neck, but I blocked her this time and placed her arms back at her sides.
“No, ‘but Titus’. It is what it is. I don’t have time to run down your role to you again. Time is money, remember? Do you want to be the cause of a nigga like T losing money?”
