“Hold on,” he said. “I’m waiting on God to give me an answer.”
She thumped him in the head. “I’m tired of waiting, Rodrick! I need you!”
“I can’t think. Now is not the right time for this shit. Why did you make that post on my wall? You fucked everything up.”
“That was my intentions. It forced you to make a decision.” She touched the sides of his face and forced a kiss. She laid him out on the bed and straddled him. Her huge booty enveloped his whole waist. “And I need you to make the
She arched her back and lifted her tush slightly. She reached around and grabbed ahold of his beefy member, but it was flaccid. She flopped it around in her fist, trying to agitate it.
“You can’t get hard again?” she asked. “Is it my face?”
“No,” he said. “It’s Tyesha’s face. I keep seeing it when I close my eyes. It’s my daughter’s face. I don’t even have to close my eyes to see her. I can’t do this no more, Deja. I have to go.”
He shoved her to the side and started putting his clothes on.
Deja grabbed his arm desperately and hugged it to her busty chest. “Don’t do this, Rodrick! Please, baby! Don’t leave me!”
He pulled his arm free to slip into his LV zip hoodie. He walked out the room, and Deja would have chased him but the thought of him leaving made her nauseous and she made a dash for the toilet. She dropped to her knees and vomited into the bowl, crying hysterically as she heard her front door slam shut.
“Momma, it itches,” Kylie whined.
I was driving on the highway and couldn’t do much to help my daughter right now. “We’re almost home. Stop scratching it, okay?”
“But it itches.”
“Rub it. Don’t scratch.”
There was no way in hell I was going to let my daughter spend the night at her grandmother’s house again. Kylie had an inch-long razor cut on her forearm from digging in one of my mother’s boxes. As she pulled out, a blade sliced her open. Velma Fenty said it wasn’t that bad of a cut, but any cut on my daughter was bad. And how old was the blade? My daughter could be infected.
First thing tomorrow morning I was going to put her back in daycare. I took her out of the last one because the ghetto staff there didn’t feed her adequately. She was always hungry when I went to pick her up. I hated that I might possibly have to choose between hunger and harm, but I’d choose a little hunger any day. Hopefully this new daycare off 350 Highway that one of my Site friends recommended would be a great facility.
“I saw Uncle
My brow creased in confusion. “You saw who?”
“Uncle
I prayed I was hearing her wrong. “Did you say Ladykiller?”
She nodded.
“Where did you see him?” I asked, my heart rate escalating.
“Today. At mall.”
“Where was your grandmother at?”
“In the
“Did you tell your grandmother?”
“No. He told me not tell her.”
“Kylie, you listen to me. If you ever see that man again, you scream, okay? He’s not your uncle.”
“Okay, Momma.”
When we got home, I tore off her Band-Aid and checked out the cut. It was sealed, thankfully. I put some peroxide and Neosporin on it, stuck another Band-Aid on her and told her to go lay down. I needed to lay down myself. My head still felt fuzzy from the alcohol I downed last night and I couldn’t sleep because I had been crying into my pillow until six this morning. The knuckles on my left pinky and ring finger were swollen painfully but I still found myself sitting at my desktop computer, typing in my password.
In a couple clicks, The Site was on my screen.
I was shocked to see I had more notifications than I ever had in my life. On my wall was a video that I was tagged in, which was linked to a popular hiphop website. The thumbnail was a blur of two women fighting, and it instantly registered that me and Deja’s brawl had been caught on tape. My heart started beating faster as I clicked the play button and the video started streaming.
The first frame was of me choking Deja up against the hood of a black Chrysler 300. The camera was extremely shaky, from some boy filming us on his smartphone. A second later, I threw Deja to the ground, and that’s when her breasts flopped out.
“Oh my God,” I gasped.
The camera boy zoomed in on her nipples.
I watched myself pummel her face in and I couldn’t believe it was me. The camera circled around and got another close up—between Deja’s legs.
As I looked at the footage, I started to get teary-eyed. I didn’t mean for Deja to get embarrassed like this in front of the world. I just wanted to beat her ass. Shaking my head, I tapped the Esc button and clicked on the comments.
Harold the Moneyman: She got knocked the fuck out!
Shake-it Girl12: This remind me of one of Floyd Mayweather’s fights.
Julius Taylor: Damn, I didn’t know Tyesha had hands like that.
Velma Fenty: That’s my baby! I didn’t raise no punks!
Rita RealSpit Gibson: Can yall stop commenting on this, please? These are human beings yall are making fun of. Two beautiful women who were friends with each other. Let’s try to bring them up, not celebrate their disagreement.
Michael StreetLawyer: I don’t know if this is an assault case or manslaughter.
VVS Vernon: I don’t care what yall say. That girl getting her ass beat is fine. You see them nipples? You see that pussy? I’d still take her out to eat, even if I gotta feed her through a straw.
Fedbound Marley: @Tyesha816. Oh, so that’s what you meant! LOL! If you need bond money, I got you, player. I sold out last night!
A wistful smile appeared on my face. Marley was just joking but I was worried that I could really face charges. And I wished my mother wouldn’t have commented, but what could I do about it? My emotions were doing somersaults right now.
My phone started ringing. I looked down at the screen and saw Rodrick’s face. I tapped the volume once and his call silenced.
I leaned back in my chair and started to question my love for him. He’d put me through so much bullcrap. But if I pushed him out of my life, how would Kylie take it? Would she blame me when she got older? I didn’t know what to do. Times like this I would call Deja and we’d talk for hours. I felt like I had nobody now.
Well, I had one person. I had my Kylie. I got up and was on my way to lay down with her when there was a knock at my door.
I looked through my peep hole and, closing my eyes as a tear fell, I sighed heavily.
“Tyesha!” Rodrick called out, knocking again. “I know you in there. Let me in, baby!”
“Go away!” I screamed.
“I’m sorry. I know that don’t mean much right now but I’m saying it anyway. I’m stupid as fuck, I know. You probably think I’m the most trifling nigga in the world.”
“Probably?! Get the fuck away from my house! You hurt me
He jiggled the knob in vain. “You didn’t do anything, Tyesha, baby. It was me. I made so many mistakes,
