Secrets of a Side Bitch 2 (11 page)

Shit! Shit! Shit!

I was in the house freaking the fuck out! My hands were literally shaking as I hoisted myself up on the back of the couch to look out of the window.

I frantically watched Omari and Eboni
’s exchange from the living room window. All the while I kept trying to ensure that Capone was still in the kitchen, unable to see how I was literally freaking out.

I wondered if Eboni remembered me from that day at
Leona’s. Though my hair was different, she looked at me like she thought I was familiar.

When I would hear Capone coming, I would go back to packing the box on the couch with Omari
’s clothes.

Once Omari walked her to the car, I got so anxious. My heart beat so nervously that my blood pressure skyrocketed to the point that my chest got tight. If Omari found out about me going to Leona
’s that day, so many cans of worms would open that I could never manage to close with even the most imaginative lie that I could come up with.

“Hey
, baby.” When Omari came into the living room, I realized that he wasn’t upset, at least not at me, so I figured that Eboni didn’t recognize me after all.

“You okay?” I met him in the middle of the floor and put my arms around him.

“Yea, I’m good. It was just a lot seeing her.”

“I
’m sure it was.”

“Are you almost done? I
’m ready to get out of here.”

Of course, Omari had been in the worst mood for the last couple of days. I was happy for him that he managed to come out of the house that day.

“Yea. I got most of the clothes you wanted.”

“What should we do about Dahlia
’s services?” He was in a daze as he sat on the couch. He hadn’t even heard a word that I said.

I sat beside him answering, “Whatever you wanna do, babe. What is it that you want to do?”

“I don’t want a funeral service. Is that bad?”

There was so much sorrow in those beautiful gray eyes. I looked into his eyes feeling as if I would stop at nothing to make sure that I was the person that put happiness back into his spirit.

“It’s not bad if that’s what you want.”

“I can
’t sit through another funeral,” he said fighting tears.

“I know, baby.”

“Can you take care of everything? I can’t…”

I cut him off before his emotions took him to a place of no return. “I got you, baby.”

He took deep breaths and fought the sorrow. He was so strong. His strength made me fall in love with him even more. “Make sure she gets buried as close to Aeysha as possible. Get her a nice pretty headstone.”

“Consider it done.”

Then, for the first time since finding out that I was pregnant, he reached over and touched my stomach. He caressed my stomach, squatted, and kissed it through my Chanel sweater.

My heart melted.

Finally, he was all in. He was where I needed him to be.  I finally had security. Finally, it was all about me and mines. But I still wasn’t pregnant. At that point, even if he got me pregnant, I wouldn’t deliver on the necessary due date. Omari thought that I was almost three months pregnant at that point. Even if I got pregnant that day, I couldn’t reasonably deliver in six months. I had even gone as far as taking prenatal vitamins every morning, which luckily made me throw up if I took them on an empty stomach. I needed to have a baby. The look in his eyes as he touched my stomach validated so much for me. Finally, I had that security. I was the only woman.

But
with the timing being off, I didn’t know where that baby was going to come from. Yet, it had to come from somewhere. I didn’t have an option. I was so obsessed with making this work. I would have his baby. I just didn’t know how.

I had been at Gia’s crib all day. After weeks of hustling non-stop my body crashed and I slept most of the day.

Waking up with my hand on the curve of Gia
’s back and her weave in my face was a smack of reality. It was crazy how many turns my life had taken within the last couple of months. I went from a ward of the state, to a killer, to homeless and broke, to hustling aside major dope boys and fucking the baddest stripper in Chi Town’s most popular strip club.

Even though things were looking up, I still felt like shit every time I thought about Simone.
The way that she was treating me was really fucking with me. She still hadn’t reached out to me since the day she came to the hotel and dropped that grand on me. I wanted answers. I needed this stupid and insecure feeling that was hovering over me every day to go away. And only she could make it go away by giving me some fucking answers. So when Gia got out of bed to take a shower, I called Simone.

I was obsessed with making this bitch fess up to her bullshit. All I needed her to tell me was that she used my goofy ass, because ignoring me
like I was irrelevant was pissing me the fuck off.

After six rings, I got her voicemail.

I called again.

I could hear the shower running over my anger
. My anger was fueled by visions of seeing that girl’s body fall, fueled by memories of coming to the horrible realization that I had just shot a woman that was very much pregnant, and fueled with the immense disgust for Simone that I felt when I saw nothing but satisfaction on her face as she watched her lie on the ground bleeding to death until a neighbor came out to her car and saw her laying there.

After three rings, I got the voicemail. I was obviously sent to voicemail, so I called right back. I just wanted the bitch to acknowledge me, to acknowledge the fact that she fucked up my life without a care in the world, to acknowledge that she
’d tricked me into killing a chick that probably had done none of the things she’d claimed she had.

“Stop calling me
!!”

Simone caught me off guard when she answered.

She definitely threw me for a loop when she screamed at me like I was a terrorist.

“Stop
fucking calling me, fucking stalker! I got a man!”

Then, she hung up.

“We can’t just keep fucking with him, boss. Either we gone kill him or lay off.”

Nonchalantly, I chuckled as Capone and I stood in the back yard of the spot out south. Of course, Capone was smoking a blunt full of loud, despite already popping a molly.

While I never did any narcotics, Capone did enough for the both of us, I swear.

“If you
’re scared, go to church.”

Capone laughed
like I’d told the joke of the century; like Kevin Hart himself had his little ass in the backyard with us doing his best stand up.

“Scared?
Nah. Neva scared. Just ready to get shit crackin’. Fuck them dirty ass niggas.”

I leaned against the brick of the building as I hid behind the collar of my
Pelle. It was cold as fuck outside, but I was so out of it mentally that I was willing to suffer through it in order to get some air.

It was crazy how Dahlia
’s passing had gone straight over my head. Her death wasn’t what had me shook. It was the fact that it didn’t hurt that scared the fuck outta me.

Aeysha
’s murder was such a heartbreaking loss for me. I knew pain like no other. At that moment, I knew that I’d experienced the worst pain of my life when I buried her, because nothing was coming close to making me feel that way again.

I mourned my baby girl, but mourning
for her mother still overshadowed anything that would let me cry for her. At the young age of twenty-eight, I was used to death. Unlike street niggas who were used to death and thought nothing of it because they felt like it came with the territory, I was used to tragic loses and devastating pain.

“It
’ll crack soon enough,” I told Capone. “He’ll come to me.”

“He
don’t even know that it’s us jackin’ him.”

“He will.”

Initially, I banked on taking Ching for everything. I planned on his organization crumbling as a result of Ching not knowing who was disloyal and taking him for everything. Then, I planned for him to hear through the streets how I was coming up heavy out south and putting two and two together; that his “nephew” was robbing him blind. He would then know that this was war because I knew that he’d killed Ayesha and would know that robbing him was first, but death was next.

Yet, the only part of that plan that had actually formulat
ed was Ching assuming that somebody in his camp was robbing him. Capone still had connections out west that told him everything. Too scared to kill and end up back in the joint, Ching was whooping niggas asses and taking names left and right trying to figure out who was taking his shit.

“Real talk, we are risking our lives and our business. We start playing these games and niggas gone
wanna retaliate. What if they hit us and take our stash? What if they ain’t so careful about killing a nigga as we are? I know you wanted a war, but this ain’t no war. You just fuckin’ with him.”

“And I
’mma keep fuckin’ with him until I’m ready to pop his ass.”

Though he looked at me
like I was crazy and shook his head in the same manner, he simply replied, “A’ight, boss.”

I knew that Capone
thought I was crazy. He thought I was losing it. But he was loyal, so he just had my back while I ran rampant.

“I don
’t know what I’m doing, no lie,” I confessed. “I’m all over the place, but can you blame me?”

With smoke spilling from his nose and sympathy pouring out of his eyes, Capone told me, “Nah, man. I can
’t blame you.”

It was crazy how even though Capone knew that the shit I was doing didn
’t make any sense and was risky, he still had my back. For that, I was more careful with the decisions that I made because I was more careful with his life than my own.

Clappers t
o the front, front, front, front

Clappers to the front, front, front, front

Shawty got a big ol’ butt

Oh Yeeeeeah
!!!

The DJ had played “Clappers” just for me, so I was on the stage getting it! That night, I chose to be the “girl next door”. Therefore, I was on stage on all fours bouncing my ass vigorously in simple black “Red Bottoms” and a black lace lingerie Vickie Secret set. Topped with garters, thigh highs, and a high bun, I looked like I had dressed up for my man and was dancing for him in our bedroom on Valentine’s Day.

But
the real scene was nothing of the sort. The stage was surrounded by an entourage of white businessmen who were clearly from out of town. They were older, mid to late forties, with salt and pepper hair cut into styles that caused hair to fall into their faces. Their faces were drenched with sweat caused from the tension of watching black ass all night. Their money was money. So I shook my ass like there was no tomorrow. I bent over in front of one, putting my mouth over the crotch of his Dockers, while another made it rain continuous dead men on my backside.

Got ass for days, come activate

This ass on fire evacuate

Throw that ass in the air
, evaporate

Where your money little bitch? Evaluate

If you got big money elaborate

I
’mma shake this ass ‘till I graduate

Nicki Minaj
’s verse encouraged a twerk session like no other. I popped my ass vigorously as the song left the speakers.

“Yea, baby!”

The white men called out for me in lustful spurts.

“Damn, that ass is beautiful!”

Reluctantly, I had to leave the stage and all that white money. Yet, many of them requested private dances as me and the bouncer quickly collected my tips while the next dancer climbed onto the stage.

I had so many tips that I had to stash them away
before giving private dances. I wanted to check my phone for messages from Chance anyway. So, while holding my singles and bra and panties that I had stripped away, I made my way to the dressing room.

I fought my way through the crowd of men, jealous that I had given
all of my attention to the white men. They pulled at me and smacked my ass. Luckily, I had long since become accustomed to the disrespect and had grown a thick skin against ignorant drunk motherfuckers.

However, one person grabbed my arm so hard that I damn near fell to the floor. We caught eyes
, and my heart fell to my chest in disappointment.

“What the fuck, Rae
?! Let me go!”

This was such typical Rae!
But I thought she’d gotten over this shit. Though she still called me and sent text messages frequently, she hadn’t popped up since she walked in on me and Chance.

“I need to talk to you.”

But I guess, since I had been ignoring her calls for the past three days, she decided that popping up was necessary.

Reluctantly
, I allowed her to follow me towards the dressing room. I stopped right outside of the dressing room door. The walls were thicker, so some of the music was blocked and we could hear each other a little more clearly.

“What the fuck is your problem
?! Stop putting your motherfuckin’ hands on me!” I fussed as I fought to hold my tips while putting back on my panties and bra.

Rae
sighed heavily and ran her fingers through her dreads. I could tell that our break up had gotten to her. She looked smaller, as if she had lost a few pounds. Her clothes weren’t put together well. The color in her hair needed a touch up.

“I miss you,
babe.” As she spoke she reached for one of my hands as she wiped fallen tears away. Patrons, on their way to the bathroom, and dancers, on their way into the dressing room, looked on curiously. Some of the dancers knew me, so they knew Rae, and they snickered as they watched our exchange. I cringed in embarrassment.

“Rae, I can
’t do this right now. I am at work.”

“Just listen to me, please.” She was so sincere. Her face
was wracked with pain and heartbreak. My heart went out to her. I didn’t want to break her heart. I didn’t want to be the source of the pain evident in her tired eyes.

But
I didn’t love her anymore.

“You
’re all I have. You are all I have had for a very long time.” Tears were streaming so fast at this point that she didn’t even fight to wipe them away. “I can’t live without you. My life is so empty.”

These were
the same words that she left on my voicemail time and time again. These were the same words that she sent via text message over and over again. I felt sorry for Rae. I knew her life. I knew that without me she felt like an outcast. But every time I woke up without a burden on my chest, every time I woke up to Chance’s arms around me, I knew that breaking up with her was right for me.

Now she had to do what was right for her.

“Rae, we can’t stay together because your life is empty. Get out there. Find friends. Go link back up with your family. Mend that relationship. Date.”

“I don
’t want to.”

“You have to!” I screamed, flailed my arms, and kicked my legs so
much that my heels crashed against the old beat up laminate flooring. “You have to, Rae. You cannot cling to me for the rest of your life.”

She glared into my eyes as she finally wiped her face free of the sea of pain. In her
eyes I saw all kinds of emotions; confusion, hurt, pain and anger.

She was lost, but I was no longer willing to help her find her way.