I Never Said I Was a Good Girl (13 page)

Chapter 26: Chyna

I get to the mall and, after hustling for a parking spot that wasn’t a hike away from all the mall entrances, I park. I grab my purse and get out the car thinking that one day I may have to grab my baby out the back seat and get a stroller out the trunk before I can proceed into the mall. That thought makes things sound so difficult and my heart begins to race.

I decide that going through Macy’s was an excellent idea because a little retail therapy would really be good for my soul right now. I like the finer things in life but I have always been a frugal person so I head straight for the clearance racks and get started.

I ended up finding four pairs of nice dress pants and two shirts. I pay for the clothes and begin to wonder why I made this purchase when in a few weeks I wouldn’t be able to fit this stuff anyway; if I decided to keep the baby.

My sullen mood returns when I realize I am on the fast track to the single mom’s club with my baby-daddy being my best friend’s ex and, to add a cherry on top of this sad sundae, he was still in love with her.

God how ratchet is this? What was I thinking? After thinking about things that way, I wasn’t sure how Brazille would be able to ever forgive me, never mind help me with my dilemma. But it still seemed like a good idea for us to talk. I miss her. I really do.

I am making my way through the crowded mall and I pass a couple who, by the looks in their eyes, are so in love that even with all the people around they only see each other. I wish so bad, tears welling in my eyes, that I had the same kind of love but wish even more that I had been smarter when searching for it.

The thought of finding love brings me back to this baby currently growing in my belly. How would I be able to find love with a baby hanging on my hip? How would I even be able to manage my career? I feel so sad when I think of bringing a baby into this world whose father will clearly never be in the picture and at this point whose mother is not even sure she wants to be a mother.

I fight to hold back the tears as I take a seat in front of
Häagen
-
Dazs
. I have no clue which direction Brazille will be coming from but honestly, with all of the bad blood between us now, I just hope that she shows up.

I take out my phone and put it on the table in front of me just in case she calls to ask me where I am. When I take my phone, out I see that I have a text from Zurich and a lump forms in my throat. I tap the message to open it up and it simply says ‘
Sounds like you have a problem’
. This was his response to me telling him that I was pregnant. I close out of my messages and sigh heavily.

I look up and, to my surprise and delight, I see Brazille coming my way. I think to myself half the battle was getting her to show up so hopefully the rest will be easy. She was looking fabulous as usual, carrying what seems like a mini mall hanging from both arms. I have to smile when I think of all the habits we share. She gets to the table and I greet her with “
Hey boo! You needed some retail therapy too?”
and use my head to point in the direction of my Macy’s bag laying in the chair next to me. I smile hoping that she is in a forgiving mood.

With half a smile she places her bags in the other chair next to me and sits down across the table from me. I notice that she didn’t spare any expense with bags from Prada, Steve Madden, and Coach.
“Yup, I figured I didn’t need to waste a trip to Lenox Mall”,
she says as she places her phone on the table.
“So Chyna, let’s get right to it. Are you seriously pregnant?”

My eyes well up as I begin to speak. I have so much to tell my sister and unfortunately none of it is happy news. I reach in my pocketbook and take out the paper the doctor gave me confirming the pregnancy and hand it to Brazille.
“Yes, I am. I would first like to apologize for my ignorant and childish behavior over the past few months.”
Brazille’s eyebrows are raised and she is just shaking her head from side to side as I speak.

“Chyna…whose baby is this? Zurich’s?”
She asks in a way that says she really is hoping that what I am about to say does not confirm what she already knows. She continues to stare at the paper, awaiting my response.

“Yes,”
I reply when she hands me the paper back.

“Wow! So you two have really decided to make a life together, huh?”
She says with her eyes devoid of any emotion.

“Not exactly…”

Brazille cuts me off,
“Chyna what the hell are you doing? Why would you get pregnant by someone and then say you guys ‘aren’t exactly’ planning to be together?!”
She asks in a loud whisper before I shut her up.

“Brazille please SHUT UP and let me finish”
I exclaim, cutting her off and causing the surrounding patrons to stare at us. I lower my voice before I continue.
“Zurich and I broke up”
I pull up the pictures of my injuries on my phone and slide the phone across the table to her.
“He broke up with me the day he gave me these parting gifts.”
She began to look at the pictures and as she continued to swipe through them her eyes began to well up with tears as big as the ones that were in my eyes.

“What happened Chyna?!”
She asks as she takes a napkin from the dispenser and dabs at the tear drops falling from her eyes.

I tell B about that fucked up night and we both cry about what I had been through. However, we get to share a little chuckle and a big high five when I tell her how I punched him dead in his high yellow face. The table falls silent though when I ask my best friend, “should I keep the baby?”

When Brazille finally begins to speak, after she gives her response much thought, she grabs my hands and holds them tight across the table.
“Chyna, I honestly can’t make that decision for you. But, what I can tell you, is please make sure you think about this carefully and that the decision you make is purely for you and what you feel in your heart. Because, if not, it will haunt you in your nightmares every night. I can also say that no matter what your decision, I will be here for you.”

Somehow by the look in her eyes and the sorrow in her voice, I know she has crossed this path before and had chosen the wrong fork in the road. It hurts me to think that she didn’t feel close enough to confide in me before now. I ask myself, “
Was I really the one who was a terrible friend?
” Going forward from today though, I vow, things are going to be different.

Chapter 27: Brazille

Yesterday Chyna and I had a great time. We rekindled our friendship, even though her current situation is definitely not ideal. We ate ice cream and shopped until we dropped.

I think about how excited I am for Chyna and our girls’ night tonight, as I finish doing Cheyenne’s eyebrows and eyelashes for her video shoot later on this evening. Chyna is going to come over tonight and I am going to give her the grand tour, we are going to eat, watch TV and gossip like we used to. Something we hadn’t done in a long time.

Cheyenne was the last client I had today because, after I finish her, I have to attend a meeting for my own nail polish line! Yes, little old me was going to put out her own nail polish that would be sold exclusively here in the salon. I have chosen the name ‘B Polished’ for my polish line and I can’t wait for the launch. Things are definitely falling in place for me for once and I am so happy.

After my meeting, I am going to spend the rest of the afternoon at my station working on a set of fantasy nails to be featured in
My Nails
magazine next month.

I decided that since I have about an hour before my nail polish meeting and I can feel my stomach touching my back, I will go across the street to the café and grab something to eat.

I order my double cheeseburger, onion rings, and large Pepsi and sit down at a small table close to the front of the café. It’s so cool that I’m in right front of a window that allows me to look across the street into my salon. ‘
I might eat here more often
,’ I thought to myself.

I smile as I look across the street at my salon and realize what I have accomplished and how far I have come and my smile gets even bigger as I realize how much further I am about to go. I bite my Cheeseburger and close my eyes while I chew because it tastes amazing and I am extremely hungry.

I finish my burger and begin attacking my onion rings when I hear the chime from my cell indicating that I have a text. I open my messages and stop chewing immediately when I see the text is coming from my cell number. I shake my head as I stare at the number, thinking maybe I was looking at it wrong, but I wasn’t. I tap the message to open it up and instantly regret having done that.

The message contains a video that is playing on a loop which shows Omari nutting all over my ass which was up in the air and me looking back at him as he climaxes.

I take my napkin and put it up to my mouth so I can spit out the rest of this onion ring, because my appetite is absolutely gone at this point. I am sitting here staring at the loop in disbelief when I notice there is a message underneath:

I hope our meeting is this explosive

I am so embarrassed. I feel like everyone in the café has watched the video and is judging me. I get up, purposefully keeping my head down. I instantly remember the goddamned cameras that I had found. I take my tray and dump the remaining food and drink into the trashcan on my way out the door.

I walked across the street with a million questions popping into my head. How many people had this video been sent too? What other videos did Havoc have? Was he still watching me? Was he planning on raping me?

I am in such a fog crossing the street that I step out in front of a car and almost get ran over. Surprisingly I make it across the street without getting killed.

Chapter 28: Havoc

Brazille was making this way too easy for me. I was sitting in the back of the café drinking my third cup of black coffee when I saw her walk across the street and come right in. She got in line and ordered her food and she seemed so happy and content. When she sat down and began to eat she truly seemed to be enjoying her burger and loving life almost to the point where I hated to interrupt her moment of tranquility. But duty calls, so I hit send on my phone.

When I see her look down at her phone and sort of pause I am ecstatic. I knew she had received my video. It threw her so much off her game that she left in a big hurry and almost ruined my evening plans by getting hit by a car that she stepped out in front of when crossing the street.

I laughed so hard that I had to put my hand up to my mouth to keep from spitting out my coffee.
‘This bitch is shook,’
I think to myself.

I was glad I did what I did, and that she reacted in the manner she did, because I thought she was going to look around the café and see me. However, after her viewing that video she couldn’t see oncoming traffic so I know she didn’t see me nestled in the back of the café watching her.

I sat there anxiously awaiting closing time for Polished by Brazille. I am confident at this point that I know Brazille’s schedule and habits. I knew that on Thursdays she normally stayed late, sometimes until ten or eleven at night, working on what looked like some bullshit extreme nail project. I didn’t expect tonight to be any different. So I wait. And I planned.

After killing time for a few hours, riding around the city, I returned around eight-thirty, just as the last customer exits the salon and her receptionist locks the front door. That is my cue to go around the back of the salon and wait for her receptionist to finish cleaning up the lunch room and bring the day’s trash out to the dumpster.

She always props the shop door open while she walks to the dumpster at night. And tonight, just like clockwork, she doesn’t disappoint. She opens the door and props it open. I wait for her to step inside the gated dumpster area and I stand up from behind the huge generator next to the door and slip inside the break room undetected.

I squeeze myself into the small broom closet in the break room just as the receptionist returns with the trashcans and locks the door back. After having watched their routine for the past four months, I was willing to bet my savings on the fact that she wasn’t going to go back into the broom closet tonight. She was going to go back up front, log out of her computer, say goodnight to Brazille and exit out the front door. Once Brazille’s receptionist leaves, she always gets up and goes into the back for a few minutes and then emerges back at her station with a Pepsi.

If there was enough space in this tiny ass closet I would pat myself on the back when I hear Brazille enter the break room, apparently on her cell phone. I hear her pull a chair out or maybe push one in, I can’t be sure, until I notice that I no longer hear her heals clicking across the floor. I figure she must have pulled a chair out and sat down at one of the tables.

I then hear her say
“So you didn’t find anything on Chyna?”
I wrinkle my brow trying to figure out what the hell she is talking about and more importantly who she is talking to. She continues
“I guess it is weird but I am happy on the one hand that you were able to clear her but on the other hand I am disappointed that she is not Havoc because now I still have no idea who this bastard is. So when will your investigation on Omari will be complete?”
She sounds scared as hell.

I’m in the closet, cheesing, when I realize that she has hired a private investigator. Just wasting good money to find out who I am. If she could have held up for a little while longer, she could have saved her money and found out who I am for free tonight.

She ends the call with
“Alright I will check in again sometime next week. Hopefully you will have something for me then.”
I hear the chair slide again and assume she is standing back up. The sound of her heels clicking across the floor again confirms my assumption. I hear her open and close the refrigerator door followed by the sound of a can pop open. Her heels click across the floor one last time until they fall quiet once she steps onto the carpet in the front of the salon.

I wait for about ten or fifteen minutes, counting the seconds in my head, to give her time to get to her station and become engrossed in her work again before I come out. I step out of the closet and unlock the back door so that
She
can enter when it is time.

I cautiously make my way across the break room and step into the hallway that leads to the front of the shop. I stealthily walk up behind Brazille who is totally lost in her work. I take in the smell of her perfume and admire how beautiful she looks sitting there working. Her hair is cascading down her back and stops at her lower back right above her luscious ass. I think about how good it would feel to run my hands through her hair. I feel my lower head beginning to awake from his slumber.

I can’t wait any longer so before I know it I say
“Hi Sexy.”

Brazille spends around in her chair. Eyes wide open, I see every expression known to man take refuge on her face for a brief moment as she processes who I am. “
Zurich you scared the shit out of me! What the hell are you doing in my salon? How the hell did you even get in here?! God you scared me!”

“I have been telling you for months that we had a date and today is that day?”
I flash her a big smile stick out my hand
“Brazille my name is Havoc, nice to finally meet you.”

Brazille jumps up and with her fiery attitude yells
“Why the fuck have you been playing this game and when the hell were you able to plant those cameras? Better yet motherfucker, why are you doing this?”

I didn’t even have time to think before my right hand came up and slapped her across her beautiful face. The force of my slap knocks her back down in her seat. I bend down so that we are face to face and I say
“Brazille, I am running this show so sit down and shut the fuck up”
very calmly.

Holding her face and staring at me with disbelief Brazille asks,
“Zurich what do you want from me?”

I give a small chuckle and reply
“I use to want you to be my wife, to love only me, and for you to bear my children but, we all know you refused to give me any of those things. So the one thing I want at this moment is for you to tell ME why.”

“What? Why? Zurich, please don’t do this.”
Her eyes pleading with me.

“Don’t do what my love? I have given you plenty of opportunities to tell me why you left me and you have refused so this is definitely something I have to do.”
I run my fingers through her hair and relish the feeling as she flinches at my touch.
“Again my name is Havoc, so for the last time address me as such.”

I take a few steps back and walk around to the front of her nail station. I reach around to the back of my pants where I have a large manila envelope. I notice that Brazille is following my every move, turning her chair to slowly face me. Her frame becomes very rigid as she anticipates what I am pulling from behind me. She jumps as I slam the manila envelope down on the desk.
“I brought some things that I thought would help us with our discussion tonight.”

I open the envelope and spread out the eight by ten photos and one sheet of paper. I see her eyes damn near pop out of her head as she looks over the pictures.

“Do you know what these are baby?”
I asked as I ball up my fists getting angry from the photos in front of me.

Brazille sits there shaking her head speechless. She doesn’t answer me fast enough so I pound my fist into the station and ask a little more forcefully this time
“Ba-Be…do…you..know…what…the fuck these are?!”

She jumps at the sound my fist makes when it connects with her desk and it causes her chair to roll back a little.
“Yes,”
she says hesitantly.

“Great. So, can you explain the first photo to me please”
I say through clenched teeth while placing both of my hands on the desk and leaning forward, looking her square in the eyes.

Her mouth opens but no sound comes out. I get so angry because this bitch has never been speechless a day since I met her. I slap her again and this time her lip smashes against her straight perfectly white teeth and blood begins to stain her teeth. Her hand flies up to her mouth and I see that her eyes are now watering.

“Brazille I really wish that you wouldn’t make this so hard on yourself. Just answer my questions and we will get along fine for now.”
I grab a tissue out of the box and dab the blood from her full shapely inviting lips.

“It is me and Zaire having sex.”
She says almost too low for me to understand what she said.

“I am going to need you to keep your voice up B. What are you doing with Zaire in this first picture? I wasn’t clear on what I was looking at since you never did that to me!”
I stand up fold my arms and tilt my head to the right waiting for her answer.

She clears her throat
“I am performing oral sex on him”;
her volume slightly louder than it was the first time.

“So what you are saying is that you are happily, because you look extremely happy in this picture, sucking my BROTHER’S dick?! You would agree that you look happy, right?”
I grab the box of tissue throw it and it hits her in the face.
“Answer me bitch!”

“Yes.”
She says while staring at me in shock.

“Explain to me what you are doing in this next photo please”
I say as I try to keep my cool.

“Zurich please!”
She pleads as the tears leave tracks in her foundation.

“Describe the damn photo and stop calling me Zurich. My name is Havoc.”

“Zaire and I are engaged in sexual intercourse.”

“Bitch!”
I yell as I lean over the desk and wrap my hand around her throat and begin to squeeze.
“Stop with these bullshit as descriptions! You are lying on your back and MY BROTHER is between your legs enjoying fucking the hell out of MY pussy! Try the next picture and your description better be on point or else”
I release the hold I have on her neck and she falls back in the chair holding her throat and trying to take in air.

“Zaire and I have just finished making love and he is nutting all over my stomach”
She looks down at the ground and I can see her hands shaking.

“Oh so now you want to get fucking cute with me?! You were making love to him were you?!
Rage takes full control of my body and I sprint around her station grip her up by her hair and throw her to the ground and before either of us knows what happened I kicked her hard in her right side. She screams out in agony and doubles over in pain.

I grabbed the piece of paper off the desk and shoved it in her face.
“Do you know why I chose today for our little get together?”

Brazille shakes her head no as she is trying to focus on the paper. And trying to crawl away. As if I’d let her now.

“Let me help you back into your chair my love. I don’t want you to get your fancy white dress all dirty.”
I gently take her by the arm and help her to her feet and guide her into her chair, feeling her shrink away from my touch. I lift her head with my pointer finger under her chin and I gently kiss her swollen bloody mouth, holding her face as she tries to turn away from me. I bend down on my knees in front of her
“Brazille I got this print out from my insurance company and it shows me that on this day six years ago you killed my baby.”

She leans over the left arm of her chair and vomits. I hold her hair back for her while I wait for her to gain her composure.

“Zurich…I, I mean Havoc,”
she says weakly looking into my eyes
“It wasn’t your baby.”
I back handed her and blood begins gushing from her mouth again, staining the front of her white dress.

“Why the fuck do you have to lie so much! You know damn well that was my baby!”
I screamed in her face as she holds her mouth, the blood now running down her arm as well.

She is sobbing heavily now when she says
“We always used condoms and Zaire and I never did so there is no way that was your baby.”

“So if you thought it was his baby why did you have an abortion?”

“I don’t…I don’t want to tell you. Zu….Havoc I mean, my side hurts and it’s hard to breathe. Just let me go, I promise I won’t say anything. Please. Please!!!”
Who does she think she’s yelling at?

I just smiled at her as I say,
“I don’t give a fuck about you. I don’t give a fuck about your fucking breathing. And I don’t give a fuck about your pain. So now, you can answer me or you can answer to me. You choose bitch.” And I pull my foot back as if to kick her again.

“No,”
she cries sobbing.
“Please not any more. Don’t hit me again please.”
Drool, blood and tears ruining her make-up.