A Hot Mess (5 page)

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Authors: Edd McNair

BOOK: A Hot Mess
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Tamil typed an instant message on the computer:
I'm lonely come spend the day making me feel better.
“Fuck that shit! You don't belong to nobody,” Tamil said seriously. “If you ain't gonna get no money out of these dudes, then you better truly enjoy the sex.”
Sounds like a winner, but I'm at work. Get off at noon and I can come through with drinks and goodies.
Tamil typed:
Waitin' on you.
They laughed and ran in the room to find Joy some sexy lounging wear.
 
 
Joy turned her head to the other page and smiled at the pictures of herself in big throw dresses. She reminisced about the day Omari came by and how that friendship started. She had told him everything about her, and he told her his life story. They shared so much, until Tommy showed up after she ignored his call most of the day.
 
 
After many bangs at the door, she finally answered.
“What the fuck you doing?” he yelled as he came in the door, pushing her. He noticed Omari on the couch.
Joy's heart dropped. She'd never been here.
“This is what you doing now? Fuckin' other niggas?”
“Tommy, this is my friend Omari. Omari, I told you about Tommy,” Joy said softly as Omari stood to his feet. “I'm your friend, Tommy, not your woman. You are married.”
“What the fuck you mean? My being married didn't mean shit when yo' big ass was lonely as hell, willing to do anything to keep my company. Fuck it! I got to find me another jump-off. I done fucked you every way possible anyway. Nasty, fat bitch! Now you picking random niggas, giving away pussy. But thanks. You made my relationship stronger, because every day I spent fucking you and letting you suck my dick, on the way home I stopped and bought my wife a gift, thanking her for not being like you hoes in the street.” Tommy walked out, slamming the door.
Joy's heart was already in her stomach, but now it just churned. She felt low, embarrassed, and she knew Omari was out.
For Tommy to act like that, the head and pussy must be the bomb
. “Are you okay?” Omari asked.
“Damn,” she said softly. “I never thought—”
“Sometimes surprises aren't good. You should have picked up the phone and said something. Well, I guess now he knows you got a new man.” Omari hugged her.
Joy felt like shit and really wanted him to leave. She called Tamil, who rushed straight home, knowing her friend was in a bad situation. Tamil came in, and they went to the room and talked. That's when she was introduced to the cocaine game. Tamil showed her a line of coke and a shot of alcohol could do wonders for the mind and body.
And later that night she allowed her mind to relax and let Omari do whatever he wanted to her body. And he did everything Minke, Bugg, Don, and Tommy did to perfection. Except, his ten-inch dick stretched her body to different heights. By morning she knew who had first dibs on her.
In months to come, after her feelings had escalated for Omari, his visits became less frequent, and even though she'd gone through it with Tommy, she let him back in the door. Now over a year had passed, and she still felt like nothing inside.
Joy remembered running into her old hairdresser, Lady Swann. Lady Swann ran Swann Terrace Boutique. Most of the hustler girls got their hair done at her shop. And by her saying she was from NY, it made all the New York girls go to her when they came to town. Joy remembered when she ran into Lady Swann. She hadn't seen her since she'd lost her home when Minke cut her off. She couldn't think of going to Lady Swann's salon with no money, and the dudes she was fucking wasn't coming off nothing but dick.
“Oh my God! Joy!” Lady Swann yelled as they embraced. “Where the hell you been, girl?”
“Moving around, you know.”
“This is me, girl. Don't play. You know I'm the realest bitch on Norfolk Street. Why you ain't come to see me?”
“I been fucked up, girl. Trying to keep afloat. You know that nigga had me fucked up.”
“I know. I heard. And I don't knock niggas for how they act or what they do, because some bitches deserve it, but don't leave the kids fucked up,” Lady said with an attitude.
“For real, girl, nigga had me out there.”
“You eating good. Look at you. You got big as hell. Face still cute as ever,” Lady said as Joy smiled.
“Yeah, I put on a little bit,” Joy said sadly.
“Girl, lift your head up. Them big-ass titties and little waist and phat ass. If you put yourself together, you'll fuck niggas up, girl. Look, come by the shop tomorrow about noon.”
“Got to work. Don't get off till five.”
“Come afterwards. Come straight there. Don't be bullshitting, or I'm gonna leave ya fucked up,” Lady said seriously.
“Thank you, for real.”
Joy, knowing how she was, made sure she headed to Lady Swann's Boutique right after work.
 
 
Joy grabbed her bottle of Riesling and turned it over, pouring the last bit into her glass. “Better carry my ass to sleep before I can't get up in the morning,” she said out loud.
She flipped some more pages and saw the pictures of her and Omari down the beach at the house in Sandbridge. She began to smile, thinking about that time he'd invited to a party some of his friends were having. When she went and saw Lady Swann, she made sure to let her know, and Lady hooked her up with her fly-ass short cut she'd always had, applied her makeup perfectly, and told the nail tech, Romaine, who rented a spot in her shop, to look out on a manicure and pedicure. She left out of the salon, looking like a million bucks and floating on cloud nine.
When Omari showed up to pick her up, he stood at the door and stared at her in the short hot pink dress and matching sandals, the hot pink eye shadow caked up over her eyes. He was turned on and felt tonight was gonna be on point.
“Yo, you know your red nightie and robe that I like?”
“Yeah,” she answered, confused.
“Go get it. We not coming back. You with me tonight,” he said smiling.
As they made their way down to the beach, he pulled out a little pack of coke for them to get their head right. When they arrived, the party was in full swing. The women had on sexy outfits, all the men had on boxers or pajama pants, and the music was good. And as he moved around he explained the rules to her.
“This is a girl-girl room and no men are allowed. All the other rooms got different themes going on, and if you want to participate, just ask and go for it. After every episode, you need to shower and brush your teeth then get another drink.” Omari smiled. “Oh, and if anybody try to run up in you raw, let it be known, and they'll throw them out.”
“And suppose I'm kinda shy and not ready for this?” she asked, feeling funny, wishing he'd told her exactly what this was about. She stared at him and the things going on around her. “Tell me, Omari. Why would you bring me here? Seriously, I want to know.”
Omari could tell at that moment she was uncomfortable. He stared at her. “I got to be honest with you, Joy. When we met online, I took you as a single mom with a lot to offer, and when I say a lot to offer, I mean time, attention, conversation, and possibly love. I wanted a woman in my life who had time for me and only me.
“Before you, I had broken up with my girl. We had a four-year relationship, but between her work and school, and her taking care of grandmother, that left little time for me. She was always good to me and always kept it one hundred, so when I felt she couldn't focus on me, I didn't play her. I left her ass and I told her why. Then I met you and spent my time online talking to you. So when we met, I was getting into you. Then your boy Tommy came through. That shit shook me, but it didn't change the way I felt. I just thought he was a jealous ex. But that same night he hurt you, you fucked me still like it really didn't faze you. Then many nights, your phone ring off the hook, twelve, one, two in the morning. That was too much. Dudes come to your house knocking all times of the night, and the kicker was, I went to one of these parties last month in D.C., and Tommy was there. He let me know he was still fucking you, and he asked me to ask you if we could fuck you together. I was really hurt, but played it off. Then he told me of your other friends, and it killed me. But I don't judge. I'm just looking for love and my own. This is fun, and that's what you are to me, nothing more. So, yes, I can do this with ya,” he said, staring at her.
Joy's eyes welled up with tears. “I was married, and I want to be married again. I want love and respect, I don't want this. I was lonely, just me and my kids, and I don't want to be alone,” she said softly as a tear dropped. She had allowed herself to catch feelings over Omari and didn't know what to do at that point.
“I'm always up front, Joy. I carried it like this because I felt it was all a game to you. And when I found out you was still dealing with these other dudes . . .” Omari began to smile.
“What's funny?”
“When dudes hurt, they do strange things. But, no matter what, we don't want to be alone. I thought I had found something real in you, but that nigga shut all that down for me. When he shut me down, I didn't want to deal with it by myself. So I”—Omari paused—“Don't take this the wrong way, but last month I went and bought a bracelet and a ring, took it to my girl, and begged her to take me back, thanking God she ain't like these nasty bitches in here,” he said, looking around.
“Well, I'm not for this, and I don't get down like this. I would really like to leave.”
“Well, I apologize. I'll take you home,” he said, headed back downstairs.
When they arrived back at her home, Omari walked her inside and had a drink. She never said a word on the ride home or since they'd gotten in the house.
He walked to the door and turned to her. “Sorry again, Joy. I guess I took you wrong. Hope we still cool. I definitely enjoy your company. I'ma call you. Oh! And let me put a bug in your ear about Tommy—he go both ways. He done a lot of time locked up, and he just wanna get a nut, he don't care how. So I hope you use condoms with any dude you with. Be careful,” he said and left out.
Joy stood there with her mouth open and mind confused. At that moment she felt she never wanted to be with another guy again.
How could I trust them?
Tamil came out as Joy was sitting down, crying, thinking about how it came that Omari thought she was like those other trifling girls at that party and that she wanted to swing. She sat beside her and gave her a drink.
Joy listened to Tamil as she tried to console her, until they sat embraced in each other's arms crying. Tamil told her to put on the red, sexy outfit, so she could feel pretty and look like the extraordinary woman she knew she was, that maybe she needed a reminder.
They sniffed and took a couple drinks, and Joy went and changed. When she returned, they sniffed some more and did some shots. Joy was still feeling down. She just wanted to go to bed. Tamil walked her in her room, and they climbed in bed.
Joy frowned as she thought about the time in her life that she was lost. But she smiled as she turned the page. A burst of energy came through her body, and tears came to her eyes. She drank her last bit of wine and closed the photo album and held it to her chest. The tears fell as she cried, but they weren't tears of pain, but tears of relief and joy.
She flashed back to the night of humiliation, desperation, and torture. She turned off her light and laid back still holding her photo album, as that Saturday night played in her head. But the worst was when she woke up 6:34
A.M.
that Sunday morning in Tamil's bed.
 
 
Joy looked over at Tamil laid back, fucked up, and naked, her legs wide open. She shook her head, not believing her life, not believing herself, and began to wish she was dead.
She sat up on the side of the bed, glanced over at the nightstand, at the large black dildo and massager. Disgust went through her body. She got up and went to get her clothes and saw the used condoms on the floor. She knew Tam had either fucked before she came home, or last night, or while she was 'sleep in the bed right next to her. Her heart hurt, her self-esteem was shot.
She looked in at her kids then walked into the bathroom and got the Tylenol with codeine. Her head was banging so hard, and her body shook. She couldn't stop the tears from flowing down her face. She wanted the pain to stop. She wanted the thoughts of Minke not wanting her to stop.
She tilted the bottle to take two of the 800 milligram pills, but a handful fell out as thoughts of her grandmother she'd lost years ago came into her mind. She smiled and lifted the pills to her mouth.
Just then, she heard her phone ring. She wanted to ignore it, but it wouldn't stop. “Gotdamn! Can I die?” she yelled as she threw the pills in the toilet and stormed back in the bedroom. “What?” she answered, not recognizing the number.

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