In Love with a Thug (19 page)

To hold, to love, to pamper, cuz I know the loss of

your father can be a damper

Know that ya man loves you in the worst way and when you say

I can come home, I'll make you forget about your bad day

So finish up at work and forget about your bad day

Listen when ya man says everything's gonna be OK

 

I deleted the email and then deleted the poem. But the other email, I read carefully as his thoughts and emotions filled the entire room.

I lowered my head with my eyes piercing the floor. This letter was unexpected and I vowed to myself to get rid of Bryant and all his dumb shit for good.
Why would he do this? If he says he loves me as much as he says, then he should allow me to go my way,
I thought. A knock came upon the door as I quickly fixed my face to communicate with whomever it was.

“Who is it?” I said, fixing up the papers on my desk to look as if I were very busy.

“Juan, it's me Keisha and my sister Kya. Can we speak with you for a moment?” I pushed all the papers into a pile and stuffed them in my desk drawer.

“Sure, come in,” I responded, now pulling my hair back into a rubber band not caring how badly bruised they thought my face. They both walked into my office, one behind another, wearing matching flaring skirts and sandals from Express. They sat down in the chairs on the opposite side on my desk.

“What's up?” I asked, putting my elbows on the desk and holding my head down with folded hands. They both looked at each other with Kya sporting a burgundy wrap and Keisha sporting a wet and wavy.

“You wanna go first or should I go first?” asked Keisha, moving her index finger between the two.

“You go first,” said Kya. Keisha looked at me and took a deep breath.

“Okay, Juan, I'm gonna tell it to you like this. We're not happy here and we're taking the job next door at Chez Sonia's.” She watched my every move to see my reaction.

“Okay, why aren't you happy?” I asked, giving them my undivided attention.

“Well, first of all, when we started everything was okay. Now, I don't mean to be in ya business or anything but now it seems like this shop is going under. We're not making any money due to poor clientele. The police are always busting up in here for something and that's another thing. We don't feel safe,” she said, shaking her head from side to side. I continued to sit while Kya decided to speak.

“Yes, Juan, we don't want you to feel like we're betraying you or anything but we have rent to pay and since you went up on the rent here, we're not making enough.” I shifted my eyes between the both of them as they took turns speaking.

“I mean, there's no toilet paper in the bathrooms anymore. There are no supplies to work with. As employees of this salon we feel that you owe it to us to let us know what's going on,” Keisha added. I moved forward in my seat to begin to address their concerns.

“Well, Keisha, I wished you would have come to me first before taking a job next door. And it's not my fault if my employees want to fight each other.”

“What do you mean it's not your fault? It is your fault to have girls running up in here fighting us over some nigga,” Keisha said, getting hyped.

“Keisha, I'ma need to you to calm your voice in
my
salon.” I stated firmly.

“Calm my voice, pussy, I'm mad as shit 'cause I'm still working here without gettin' paid and my jaw still hasn't been the same since that girl that your boyfriend is fucking punched me for no reason. I didn't have anything to do with that shit,” she continued in a loud tone.

“Look, y'all, did ya'll come in here to argue with me or talk to me?”

“We came in here to talk and now we're talkin' so what are you gonna do to change things?” Keisha said abruptly. I took another deep breath because honestly, I didn't know how to handle this. I stood up from my seat.

“Rob, could you come in here for a second?” I yelled. Keisha turned around toward Kya and then back to me.

“And what the fuck is he supposed to do?”

“He is the manager of this salon and I feel it's only right that he listen to your concerns.” Rob came into the office.

“Yes,” he said, still holding onto the doorknob.

“Rob, our stylists say that they're not happy here due to the lack of funds around here lately. Keshia says she doesn't feel safe. I don't know what to do,” I said, plopping back down into my chair.

“Well, the only thing that I can say is that right now Ché Mystic is having a little financial trouble and if y'all are willing to stay and hold on until things get better, then you're more than welcome to stay. If not, I'm sorry.” Rob covered it all in a nutshell.

Keisha stood from her seat and slammed her hand down on my desk. Well…

The front door of the salon swung open so hard it hit the wall and the glass broke. My heart fell, ruining the lining of my stomach.

“Rob, where the fuck are you?” Jeff yelled as he entered the shop with four boys following behind him. Keshia jumped back toward the wall as Rob tried to run behind my desk.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I yelled to Jeff as the other boys came toward me.

“Where's all your money?” asked one of the boys wearing a black Dickie set. Actually all of them had on black Dickies except for Jeff.

“No, fuck the money, I want him,” yelled Jeff, pointing to Rob with a twelve-inch sharp blade.

“Boy, you better not stab me with that knife,” yelled Rob. Keisha and Kya ran out of the office as all four boys ran toward me and Rob. I turned and tried to run as I tripped over a stack of magazines I had sitting beside my desk. The four boys grabbed Rob and pinned him to the floor as Jeff began punching and kicking him in his stomach.

One of the boys grabbed Rob by the head and began jabbing him in the mouth as Jeff took his sharpie toward Rob's throat and deeply slit it from right to left. I screamed to the top of my lungs as Rob's blood gushed from his skin as one of the boys let his lifeless head go and made a thump sound as it hit the floor. The four boys ran out of the shop one right behind the other with Jeff tailing behind.

Rob lay on my office floor with his legs twisted and his arms spread out. His eyes were closed as if he were asleep.

“Noooo,” I screamed as I ran throughout the shop looking for Keshia and Kya but they had vanished and so had Jeff and all his boys.

 

The sun had begun to set as the police did their last walk-through of the salon making sure they had all the evidence needed to look for Rob's killer. I cringed at the thought of Rob being dead. The look of his chocolate face lying there in my office in a pool of blood will always scare me.

The smell of blood throughout the salon freaked me out. I was traumatized from what I had seen. I needed to be comforted, I needed to be saved and not the type of saving that comes from a man. I'm talking about the type of saving that only God can give me.

Through all the blood and fingerprint dust and police tape, I got down on my knees and prayed to the Lord for forgiveness for all I had done. This shop was going down like the Titanic and the Lord was gonna let it sink. Maybe it was meant to be. I needed to be forgiven but then I thought that in order for me to be forgiven then I must first forgive.

 

The candles that were lit on each table set the mood right as I entered the door of Zanzibar Blue.

“Hi, will you be dining alone or are you here with people?” said the African-American female who greeted me as soon as I walked through the door.

“I'm supposed to be meeting someone here,” I responded, noticing Bryant in the distance sporting a black blazer and a Kangol. He motioned for me to come in his direction.

“There he is,” I said, walking past the hostess and over to my man.

“Enjoy,” she said. As soon as I came within his distance he stood up and we embraced with a four-arm hug. He inhaled my scent the way I'd inhaled his cologne, which was Burberry Brown. I could tell his sincerity by the way he gripped the lower part of my back.

“I'm sorry, Baby,” he said as he held me close. I backed away from him and took my seat at the table.

“Let me get that,” he said, grabbing the chair and pulling it from the table so I could sit.

“Thanks,” I said as he helped push me toward the table. “So, Bryant, what's this all about?” I asked, cutting to the chase. My father was being buried tomorrow and I had no time for games.

“J.J., I brought you here tonight because I wanted to show you how much I missed you the past couple of days. Baby, what happened at my grandmother's house the other morning, Baby, that wasn't me.” His eyes started to tear up through the flames of the candles.

“Bryant, I might be going to jail because of you,” I hissed as his tears made an appearance. For the first time in my life; I had seen a thug cry.

“Baby, no you won't,” he protested.

“Yes, I will, if she testifies against me, I will.”

“Baby, no, you won't,” he spat, now bawling out of control.

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because she's dead,” he said as my eyes widened with surprise. The waitress came over to our table.

“Can I start you two off with a few drinks?” she asked cheerfully. Bryant looked up at her with his teary eyes. She read him like a book. “I'll give you some time. I'll be back.”

“Bryant, what the hell you mean, she's dead? What the hell happened?” I asked, trying not to let anyone hear our conversation.

His tears began to fall steadily as he told his story for the first time.

“I had her murdered, J.” He put his hands on top of the table as I placed my hand in his. “I did it,” he said, now with snot running from his nose. He squeezed my hand causing my fist to ball.

“Bryant, stop crying and tell me what happened,” I demanded. He took a few sniffles, then blew his nose with the napkin and prepared himself to tell me the full story.

“That bitch blinded my daughter for life, yo. Then she had the nerve to kill my seed and send me the pictures. I offed that bitch,” he spat in anger. He straightened his face and got himself together. “My bad, shawty, I just needed to get that out. I'm ready to order now.” He called the waitress over to our table.

“Bryant, we need to talk.” I stopped the waitress in mid sentence before she started telling us what the day's specials were.

“Okay, I guess I'll give y'all a little more time,” she said as she spun a one-eighty in the other direction.

“Baby, you wanna talk, then let's talk. Like I said in my email, I'm all
for
you.” he said, talking with his hands. “What is it that you wanna talk about?” I took a sip of the ice water from the table.

“We need to talk about us. Bryant, I need more than what you're willing to give me. I need more than a piece of dick. I need a man, a companion. Someone that's gonna be there in my time of need.”

“I feel you,” he said, nodding his head in agreeance. “So basically you're telling me that you want
me
to be your man?”

“Bryant, I'm not
telling
you anything. If you choose to be with me and stop all the lies and commit to me, then fine, but if you can't, then you need to step,” I said, looking him dead in his eyes. “And look at me; you basically turned me into a crackhead. I had never thought about taking drugs until
you
came into my life.”

He looked down at the flowery prints on the table. He then looked up.