Kitty-Kitty, Bang-Bang

I sigh. “Why couldn’t you step da fuck off when I was brushin’ ya ass off? Why’d you have’ta keep pressin’ a bitch?”

He touches the side of my face. “’Cause, on some real shit, da first moment I saw you wit’ ya girl walkin’ through da hotel in Arizona, I knew I had’a get at you. I knew you were da kinda woman I could fall for. And that’s on e’eryting. Even when you was playin’ a muhfucka to da left, that shit only made me wanna get at you more.”

“Then you a damn fool,” I tell ’im, sidesteppin’ ’im. I take a seat on the sofa.

“Nah…that makes me a man who knows what he wants. Da first time we spoke on da phone, and I heard ya sexy-ass voice, I knew what I already felt—that you were da one for me.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“But a muhfucka knows what he feels. I ain’t ever felt no shit like this for any female before. And that’s some real shit, Kat.”

“And what’s that?”

“Love.”

Love? The word slips from this nigga’s lips wit’out any effort. And I’m shocked. It’s sumthin’ a bitch neva ’pected to hear from ’im. I don’t know why, but I need to be sure I heard ’im the first time. “What did you say?” He doesn’t blink, doesn’t flinch. Looks me in the eyes ’n repeats the shit. “That’s what I thought you said. Well, you need ta take that shit up wit’ another bitch—”

“Yo, why you keep tryna push me away?”

“I’m not pushin’ you away. I’m tryna give ya ass a chance to bow out gracefully.”

“I’m not lookin’ for an out,” he snaps, “I’m lookin’ for you to open ya heart and let a muhfucka in so he can love you.”

“How you gonna love me? What da fuck you know ’bout lovin’ anyone other than ya’self? You’ve neva even been committed to a bitch. So what makes you think a muhfucka like you can be faithful? How da fuck you know you even capable of love?”

“’Cause I’m not that muhfucka I used to be. I knew the first time we rocked them sheets who I wanted in my life. And I know what I feel”—he taps the space over his heart wit’ his fist—“right here.”

“And layin’ up in that hospital bed gave a muhfucka a buncha time to think. I almost died, Kat. And keepin’ it a hunnid, that shit scared me. I don’t wanna die not knowin’ what it’s like to love someone. I mean really love ’em, feel me?

This muhfucka is crazy. Would this muhfucka be sayin’ all this shit if he knew I was a bitch who laid a buncha niggas down wit’out battin’ an eye? Would da nigga be so pressed to love a bitch knowin’ she gets off on shuttin’ a muhfucka’s lights out?

“I wanna understand you, baby. I wanna stand by you. Be the kinda man in ya dreams. I can be that muhfucka, Kat; real talk. Let a muhfucka love you, Kat.”

“Da last muhfucka I thought loved me was busy lettin’ a bitch who I thought was my friend suck his dick. And da nigga after ’im was caught fuckin’ my aunt, so—”

“So, that’s their shit. Not mine. I’m not them. I told you, I don’t cheat.”

“And you neva been in a relationship eitha.”

“Yeah, true. But that doesn’t mean I don’t know what kinda woman I need in my life to push me to be a better man.

“Yeah, well, you say that shit now. But what happens when ya ass starts gettin’ bored wit’ havin’ only one bitch?”

“That won’t happen,” he says, starin’ at me.

“I don’t trust you, nigga.”

He slowly shakes his head, runs his hands ova his face. “Keep shit gee. Is it me, or ya’self you don’t trust?”

I frown. “Nigga, what’s that ’posed to mean?”

“It means bein’ honest wit’ ya’self ’bout what da fuck you really feelin’. No frontin’. Step outta da bullshit, and see you for da first time…”

“Frontin’? I don’t gotta front ’bout shit. I’ma real bitch, nigga.”

“Yeah, wit’ e’ery bitch, but you. For once trust what’s in ya heart, not what you think in ya head. You say I don’t know you, but ya wrong, baby. I know you hurt, like I hurt. I know you dream, like I dream. I know you scared of takin’ risks. Of lettin’ someone get close to you. Like me, you been runnin’ all ya life from ya’self.”

I blink, blink again. This muthafucka don’t know shit ’bout a bitch like me. I slam my hand up on my hip, point a finga at ’im, stabbin’ it in the air. “Nigga, you don’t know me; you don’t know shit ’bout what I been runnin’ from, so save that psychoanalytical bullshit.”

“Check this out, this ain’t no playground and I’m not here to game you. I know what I want. And I know what I don’t want. You, I want. Them other broads were strictly bitches I wanted pussy from.”

I glance ova at the clock. “Aiight, times up. You gotta go.”

“No, not until you listen to me.” What da fuck?! This nigga must want anotha round of bullets in ’im. “If you wanna run up ’n get ya gun, do you. I already been shot up, so it ain’t nuthin’ else you can to do ’xcept kill a muhufa.”

“Alex, save all that Alley Cat and Daddy Long Stroke bullshit for them dizzy-ass hoes out there. I ain’t interested in nuthin’ you sellin’.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh. “I’m here, not as Alley Cat, or Daddy Long Stroke, or any other stage name bitches have given me. I’m here as Alexander, baby. A man flawed…and yes, fucked up. But underneath all my scars and faults, I’ma man wit’ a big heart, but it’s been empty. And I’ve spent my whole life tryna fill up this big- ass hole wit’ a buncha pussy. Yeah, a buncha bitches done tossed me the pussy, done let me bust my nuts down in their throats and all ova their faces, and they let me run all through their wallets. But, after e’ery fuck; after e’ery nut, the only thing it did was make me feel more fucked up, had me feelin’ lonelier than before, and still empty. What are you so afraid of?”

“I ain’t afraid of shit, nigga.”

Bitch, stop lyin’. You say you a real bitch, then keep da shit a hunnid wit’ da nigga.

“Yo, if you wanna keep livin’ ya life in fear, then do you. But, you gonna miss out on some good shit.”

I huff. “Like what, you?”

“Nah, like freedom.”

I frown. “Nigga, what are you talkin’ ’bout? I am free.”

He shakes his head. “Baby, as long as you keep livin’ in fear, you’ll never be free.”

“I’m neva gone be da kinda bitch you gonna try’n run game on. I’m not da kinda bitch you think you gonna hurt and it be all gravy. No, nigga, I’m da kinda bitch who’ll put a bullet in ya shit. And unlike that bitch, Ramona, I pop niggas and drop niggas, in one shot.” He bucks his eyes. I can tell I done shocked ’im. I walk ova to the door, swingin’ it open. “It’s time for you to bounce.”

“So you really ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me?” I can tell he’s tryna keep it together. I can hear his voice crackin’.

I shake my head, openin’ the door. “I can’t.”

“Oh, aiight. Then I guess it’s goodbye.”

“I guess so.” We’re standin’ in front of each otha. He’s lookin’ into my eyes. And I’m lookin’ into his. I’ve neva seen this nigga look so broken. “I don’t want you to think I hate you, ’cause I don’t. Keepin’ shit real, I care ’bout you. And I’m sure you have da potential to be a good man, but I can’t chance you draggin’ me into no dumb shit. I have a baby to think ’bout now. And I don’t want drama in my life.”

“So you gotta ’nother nigga in ya life?”

“Alex, da only nigga in my life is that lil’ boy upstairs. That’s da only man I have da energy for right now.” He asks me ’bout the sign outside. Wants to know where I plan on movin’. I tell ’im I don’t know. Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell ’im anyway. He wants to know if I’m gonna stay in Jersey, or move back to Brooklyn. I shrug. “I seriously doubt it.”

“I feel you. Yo, I thought you said I get three strikes? I should have two left.”