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“Thank you, bruh. Yeah, I definitely do.” Titus smiled, gazing into Shayla’s moist eyes. He wrapped his arms around her waist while Joe and all of the party-goers looked on, smiling at the two of them. I caught a glimpse of Gladys staring at me with her eyebrows furrowed, and I wondered if my disgust was obvious. She tipped her head at me questioningly, but I just ignored her and watched my man embrace his mismatched wife.
“Shayla, I hope that this party shows you how much you mean to me. I know that Joe is your favorite singer, and I would have nothing less than the best come sing Happy Birthday to my wifey on her special day. You’re my world, girl. I just want you to be happy. You’re always number one in my book, Shay.”
While the crowd clapped and cheered and I heard Joe begin to sing again, I slipped out of the room and ran to the nearest toilet to unload the bile that had caught in my throat.
Chapter 22
Titus
Because I did most of the planning for the party, Shayla didn’t know half of the guests. I invited some of her folks, but her mother called me and told me to stop calling her sanctified ass family. She said that they would rot in hell before they ate at the table with drug dealers. Not spending time with their blood was on them because my baby was going to have the best with or without their so-called Christian Bible toting butts in attendance. Rhonda was supposed to contact all of her friends that she was connected to, but she did a piss poor job of getting them out to the party. Knowing the way she has been acting around Shayla lately, she probably didn’t even reach out to any of them. No one in their right mind would miss a party thrown by Titus to the motherfucking Wilson, so I knew that she couldn’t have put any effort into getting the word out.
One person that Shayla did know, given that it was from TV, was that sanging ass nigga Joe. I wasn’t going to be the one to start screaming and hollering because he was up in my house singing. However, I was proud that I, once again, was showing just how much on another level I was than the other wannabe bosses jocking for position. A nigga like T did it big up in this piece. When you’re blessed man, you don’t have to fake it to make it anymore. You are a made man.
Even though I paid the sanging mofo for three songs, after he handed it to me to speak to her and wish her happy birthday, he took back the mic and was all up in my woman’s face on his fourth song, singing to the top of his lungs when I slipped my arm around her waist and pulled her close. I pulled her s
o close that the smell of my cologne would help her remember who she belonged to. She looked away from Joe and smiled at me. I knew she was satisfied and that was all I wanted for her. I owed her that on her birthday. After the singing was done, Joe mingled for a little bit before he signed a few autographs and bounced.
The Street Justice crew was all the way live up in the place to be with diamonds glistening in their ears, swinging platinum chains, and fresh threads from the head to the feet. That’s just how we did it, man. All day, er’ day, we were them platinum boys from the hood. I looked at my watch, and it was nine o’clock, so I hollered, “Time for the all-white bikini jam! I want all of you ladies out of those clothes and in the pool in fifteen. Fellows, do what you do in your all white swimming trunks.” That’s right, niggas had to jump clean if they were going to party with me. It’s all about the white. No dirty bitches or niggas were allowed to hang around in my spot. Shayla had already gone up to change, and when she sashayed her fine tail back down onto the pool deck with her all white string bikini it was game over for anyone that thought about putting on a swimsuit that night. Baby was banging!
I gave her a twirl, and said, “Good googly moogly, oh, look at that booty!” I twirled her right into my arms and hugged her, whispering in her ear. “Is all of this for me?”
She wiggled from my embrace and smiled showing her pretty, perfect teeth. “If you want it,” she said teasingly, arousing me instantly. I didn’t know if she would make it into the pool wearing that bikini like that. I was ready for all of them hungry niggas to get up out of my house. I was two seconds away from pulling a Marty-Mar and saying, “You ain’t got to go home, but you got to get the hell up outta here!”
“You know I want it,” I said pulling her back close to me so that she was standing at my side. I reveled in the beauty my wife exuded standing there in all of her glory. But then my baby’s smile turned to disgust when Sheniqua’s brave and disrespectful ass flaunted in front of me wearing a microscopic white bikini top. It wasn’t even a real bikini, just four pieces of string connected to two little patches covering her nipples.
Sheniqua said, “Great party, big T.”
She didn’t even address my wife, just looked me up and down like she wanted to bite me. No doubt, she was looking to score a baller for the night, but that would not be me. I didn’t want any more of what she had to offer, at least not that night. Plus, I really wasn’t feeling the way that she was disrespecting Shayla up in our house. I popped my knuckles and mean-mugged her something fierce. She got the picture and quickly found herself some sense. When she walked away, I thought she had better find someone else to play with.
Shayla just stood, giving me that look that let me know that she was not feeling the fact that women were walking around acting like they had some type of relations with me. Pulling Shayla close, I attempted to ignore Sheniqua’s statement. I said, “You just wait until all of these people are gone. I intend to show you just how much I want you tonight.”
“Yeah, I’m about to take a swim,” she said dryly, and left me standing there holding my dick in my hand. Before the night was over, each of my boys took turns pinning a couple hundred birthday dollars on Shayla’s bikini top. And that was cool, but when Street was pinning his money he was having issues getting the pin back on. I stood on the sidelines watching Shayla’s tipsy butt wiggle around as he tried to put the pin back in the material. I didn’t know why, but I felt a little bothered by the fact that Street had his hands on my wife, and she was enjoying it. Whether intentional or not, him getting all kinds of feels on my wife’s breasts was not what was up.
Before I knew anything, I was up out of my seat and all in his face, “What’s the situation, potna?!” I stepped up and took over the closing of the birthday pin. “Why you lingering around my wife’s shit?”
Stunned, Street stepped back and put his hands up in the air in innocence. He was not only my kinfolks, but my number one general, down for life, but I still had issues that didn’t allow me to trust anyone where Shayla was concerned.
I looked at Street for an explanation, but Shayla spoke up instead, saying, “Stop tripping Titus, you are about to mess up my birthday flow. He was just trying to pin some money on my bikini top. I have so much money the pin isn’t working anymore.” Her words slurred as she spoke. “Plus, we all know that no one up in here would get involved with each other’s best friend, would they?”
Her question sounded more like an accusation. Then, she smiled at me like she knew more than what she was saying and almost seemed to enjoy watching me try to come up with a response.
She gave Street a look that I couldn’t quite make out, and added, “You know Street wouldn’t try anything frisky with me.”
I closed the clasp on the oversized safety pin, and said, “There you go. I got it pinned on, but you need another pin. And you’re right about Street, I lose my head about you sometimes, girl.”
Street interrupted saying, “Man, it’s nothing like that. Just giving my little sis a gwap.” Then he turned to Shayla and said, “Don’t spend it all at Neiman Marcus, doll.”
“Lil sis… humph,” I mumbled under my breath and kissed my wife, sticking my tongue deep down her throat, cupping her backside as I intensified the kiss. That woman was my property, and no other man should have his hands on her, ever. After breaking away from her soft lips, I sent her to get me another drink. “Babe, will you bring me another beer?”
Dazed from a dose of that T-passion, she said, “Mmmm, yes, of course! Anything for you, babe.” Before she walked away, she turned to Street and said, “And Street? Thanks for the money, honey.” She smiled as she sashayed toward the cooler. When she was completely out of earshot, I gave fair warning.
“I’m going to have to watch you, nigga? First you fiddling with my wife’s titties. Then you calling her doll and naming her favorite shopping spot. I ain’t got nothing but love for you, mane, but don’t think for one minute I’m slow up in this motherfucker. I know my wife is fine and top shelf even, but don’t get the lines crossed or twisted, and we can keep things copasetic between us. Keep your mind on the business at all times, mane.” Street knew when I was about the business and when I was about jokes. This matter was strictly business. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, I heard a loud pop blast in my ear. Then there was a B-d-d-d-d-d-d… POP. POP! POP!
Screams were heard all throughout my home and on the pool patio. A flood of people ran in all directions, ducking for cover. The noise was deafening. Instinctively, I rushed to find Shayla amongst the retreating crowd and dove on top of her while reaching for the nine at my waist-side. When I got ready to aim at the offender that dared to go off popping his pistol in my mother fuckin’ home, I found that I had five guns aimed back at me. That fact alone didn’t bother me; I’d been in enough shoot outs to know how to handle myself. You don’t do what I do for a living and think you’re going to remain safe all the time. It was the two guns that were glued to Shayla’s head that gave me pause.
Not my baby, anything but my baby, I thought. I dropped my gun and begged them not to shoot her. “Don’t shoot anyone else, man. It’s me you want, so take me instead man, please!”
A ski-masked gentleman who must have been the leader, said, “We didn’t come for blood tonight, only to negotiate.” He pulled me to my feet, called out all of my generals by name, and assembled us in my den for a meeting. As we walked, I made note that most of the people from the party had found their way outside and into their cars to leave, while a few cowered in corners, hungry for drama and action. Despite the risk and danger, they were eager to see how everything turned out. I shook my head, my people, my people. At gunpoint, I walked ahead of Street, Tony, Yak, and Buster into my den where the armed men relayed the demands of their Atlanta crime boss, “Big Shirley.”
