'Til Death (4 page)

              "Was this the plan, Ciara, all along? Tez and you plotted this? Is Culprit in on this too? Everybody knew what you were planning, so you could run Detroit?" I asked. I felt my eyes burn and I knew that I had tears in my eyes.

              "Boan, I’m sorry," Ciara said, while crying. I put my gun down. I couldn’t do it.

              "Me too," I said.

              "’Til death do us part?"

              "’Til death."

POWPOW…..

              I heard the gunshot, but I felt fine. I opened up my eyes and looked at her. She had tears running down her face, and looked conflicted.

              "I can’t do it," she whispered.

              "I’m done," I said while dropping my gun. I started moving quickly while throwing on sweats and beater and making my way to the closet. There was a safe in the closet with millions inside of it that was my money and I planned on taking it. She could have whatever was in our joint accounts. Using the suitcase that was in the closet, I emptied the safe putting all its contents in the suitcase before leaving. Ciara was weeping on the bed still. I knew if I didn’t leave, I would not survive this life; Ciara would own Detroit, and I could exit the drug game, still living, and so could she. If that was what she wanted, then I would give it to her. I picked my gun up off the floor and put it inside my sweats, then walked over to Ciara, and she looked up at me.

              "You were my downfall; my greatest mistake was loving you." I turned around and left her; not only her, but everything.

Two Years Later

I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I was ready to go back; I'd been running for too long. I’d been in Alabama for two long years—not talking to anybody, not even my own mother. I ran my hands through my short haircut that had dreads not long ago.  When I left, I thought Ciara would wipe out our bank account, but she didn’t; she kept adding to it. I was surprised she didn’t try to find me. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t missed her. I walked to my truck; I was prepared to make this trip. I had a private jet waiting for me at the airport. Nobody knew I was coming back, of course. I couldn’t wait to see the look on niggas’ faces. Being in the South had changed me for the better; I realized that Ciara and I only broke each other down, and that was the main problem. I deserved better, and so did she. She probably got with Tez while I was gone. I rode to the airport. I felt bricks in my stomach; I was ready for this journey.

              I boarded the plane and just sat there. Damn, this was crazy. I didn’t know if I was making the right choice. Niggas would probably kill me if word got out, but shit, fuck it. I didn’t know why I wanted to come back so bad. I just missed the D, but I’d have been lying if I said I didn’t want to see Ciara. Shit, legally, we were still married. To be honest, I hadn’t fucked anybody since the last time I saw her, so I knew shit was going to get real when I touched down. I landed in Detroit sooner than I had wanted. I got a black Challenger rental, and drove straight to my mom's crib. It was around five in the evening, and summer had just started. I felt a cool breeze as I let the window down. Once again, I had that suitcase full of money in the back.

              I rode around my mom's block, just to see if anybody was checking the place out. I finally pulled up and parked. I made my way up the stairs to the house and knocked. I heard rattling, and the door opened.

              "How can I help you?" my mom said. I had my hat low, and just looked at her. She was a petite woman, standing about 5’3. Her dreads were in a bun and had a lot more gray in them. I took my hat off and smiled at her.

              "Barren?"

              "Hey, ma" I greeted.

I caught her as her legs began to give beneath her, and had to practically drag her into the house. She was crying so much that she got my shirt wet. All I could do was hug her tightly.

              "Ma, come on, stop crying."

              She nodded her head and backed away from me, wiping her face. Once she had regrouped, she looked up at me and punched me. "Boy, don’t ever stay away from me that long."

              I bent down and gave her a peck on the cheek. I followed her to the kitchen and smelled the wonderful soul food she was cooking. "I came back just in time," I said.

              "How long you staying, Barren?" I shook my head. My mom was the only person who called me by my first name.

              "I don’t know. I haven’t made up my mind."

              "You’re staying here."

              "I know, ma. You cooked a lot of food though. Are you expecting company?"

              "Ummm, since you asked, there is something I got to tell you."

              "What, you got a man or something?" I asked, looking at her. She put her hand on top of my head where my dreads use to be.              

              "No, boy."

              "Then what, ma?" Before she could answer, I heard a knock on the door. My mom rushed to open it. I went into the ‘fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. I sat down at the island in the kitchen. My mom came back in, and my heart dropped. It was Ciara. I knew she and my mother were close, but I didn’t think she would still come and visit her. Ciara was gorgeous. Her hair had grown out, and was slightly below her shoulders. Her light brown eyes looked at me in shock, then looked back to my mom.

              "Boan?" Ciara asked. I felt my throat close up on me. I stared into her eyes. She still had the strangest effect on me.

              "What . . . why . . . Boan?" Ciara said, walking over to me. I immediately stood up and moved away from her.

              "What the hell is she doing here?" I asked my mom, pointing towards Ciara.

              "I still come visit your mom," Ciara said.

              "I wasn’t talking to you."

              "And your point?" Damn, she still had a smart mouth.

              "Man, get the fuck out of here with that shit, Ciara, for real."

              "Where the hell you been at Boan? You had people running around here thinking you were dead, then all of a sudden you fucking pop back up with a haircut like ain’t shit change."

              "What does it matter to you? I’m not here to fuck with you." My mother stood there and watched, as though she were watching a boxing match.

              "That’s not the point," Ciara snapped.

              "Why do you even care?"

              "Because you’re my fucking husband," Ciara practically yelled.

              "Yea, well, we can get that problem solved while I’m here." Ciara stared at me. She ran her fingers through her hair and I thought that shit was sexy as hell. For as long as I’d known Ciara, she had had short hair. I guess we both had needed a change.

              "You came back here to get a divorce?" Ciara asked, while looking up at me. I felt my heart melting, but I made sure I didn’t show any emotions.

              "You’ll see when you get those papers," I announced in a monotone voice. Ciara stood there staring at me. I wanted nothing more than to bend her over the island and fuck the shit out of her. I licked my lips and she smirked at me. Without notice, my dick jumped at the heightened degree of sexual tension.

              "I missed you," Ciara stated barely above a whisper. It damn near blew me away; she was never the type to say some shit like that. I looked her up and down, then I looked back at my mom. I didn’t know what to say.

              "Boan, I’m not the same person anymore," Ciara claimed.

              "So you not the same bitch that plotted against me, tried to kill me, and fucked around on me?"

              Ciara narrowed her eyes at me, "Are you the same nigga who fucked any bitch just to get my attention?"

              "Hey, you two need to talk and I’m going to leave," my mom stated as I watched her make her way out of the kitchen.

              "Boan, I’m really not. I’ve made a lot of mistakes, but the biggest was letting you walk away."

              "Are you still in the drug game?" I asked.

              She rolled her eyes. "What does that have to do with anything?"

              "Just answer."

              "No." Ciara said. I watched her body language to see if she was lying or not. She was still beautiful. Her jet-black hair hung just below her shoulders, and I wanted to run my fingers through it.  I wanted to bury myself deep inside her and get lost in her wetness. I wanted her love.

              "Why should I believe you?" I was trying my best to ignore my feelings that were stirring inside of me.

She walked over and stood in front of me. I leaned against the counter and she leaned against the opposite side. She shrugged her shoulders.

              "So you not gon’ answer?" I asked.

              "You have every right to not believe me, but then again, I have no reason to lie to you."

              Although her answer blew me away I kept a poker face. "You never needed a reason to lie to me before, so I’m not expecting that shit to change."

              "Ok." That was all Ciara said. OK. Fucking, OK. Everything was the opposite of that. Nothing was fucking OK.

              "Cut the bullshit Ciara." I was getting frustrated because I felt like she was playing with me.

              She tossed her arms up in the air, "What bullshit?"

              "This," I emphasized, while pointing at her.

              "I’m not doing anything."

              "I fucking know. It’s not you at all, so get this shit together."

              "Do you want me to scream and yell at you? Do you want me to hit you? What do you want from me, Boan?" Ciara sounded exhausted and drained. I honestly was too.

              "Nothing now, nothing at all," I said. I wanted to hurt her because I was still hurt. I still loved her. I still wanted to give her the world. I wanted to give her everything that she thought was impossible. But I couldn’t be a fool again. I refused to be a fool again.

              "Boan . . ." The way she said my name was like a sigh. It sounded like she said it repeatedly when she cried at night, as though she needed me. My heart dropped to my stomach.

              "I’m filing for divorce." I said, trying to keep my voice flat and void of emotion. Ciara looked me in my eyes, and I saw tears. I couldn’t believe it. Those tears hit her cheeks, and she didn’t wipe at them. She wanted me to see them, and I couldn’t understand who this woman was in front of me.

Ciara

Boan was the only man I could ever love. Yea, I did some fucked-up shit. I was terrified of him hurting me, but all he wanted to do was to show me a new way to love, to show me happiness and bliss instead of the torture and anguish to which I had become so accustomed. Now there we were, two years later, and he wanted a divorce, but I wanted another chance. I loved him. I was in love with him. Every answer I had given him that day was true; I wasn’t in the drug game anymore. I gave it to Tez just so they wouldn’t look for Boan or kill Culprit. I was standing in that damn kitchen, shedding tears, and the man I was willing to breathe for was looking at me like I was infected with the fucking swine flu.

              "What the fuck are you crying for?" Boan asked me. I just continued to look at him. His low haircut, full of black, wavy hair, his chocolate eyes, and juicy, full lips surrounded by a trim goatee, and his tall, muscular frame that was tatted-up, was making me feel some type of way.

              "Because I don’t want to get a fucking divorce!" I practically yelled.

              "We been doing shit your way for too long, and look where that got me."

              "I’m sorry."

              "You are. You’re the meaning of sorry, Ciara. Where Tez at?" His eyes felt like they could melt my skin if they wanted to. I just stared at him. I grabbed my purse and made my way to the front door. Fuck it. If he wanted a divorce, then I would sign the damn papers. He acted like he was all holy, when he know he done did some fucked-up shit too. He fucked a hell of a lot of bitches when we were together, so I didn’t want to hear that shit. Despite what Boan may think, I didn't sleep around as much as he did; however, Tez and I did have an emotional connection. Maybe we were both just fucked-up in the head. I reached my Camaro and unlocked the doors.

              "YO!" I heard Boan yell. I looked up, and he was just standing at the front door looking confused.

              "Culprit didn’t know anything. I gave the business to Tez so he wouldn’t kill Culprit or go looking for you. Culprit's number is the same, so you can ask him what happened after you left," I said. I got in my car and pulled off. Damn it, Boan.

              I met Boan when I was only eighteen. He was already deep in the drug game, and I was only getting my feet wet. Now I was twenty-seven, and looking at the time. I didn’t know where it went, but I knew we had lost ourselves along the way. Those last two years, I’d been doing a lot of soul-searching. I loved the ground Boan walked on. He was everything, and then some. Of course he was not perfect, but he was perfect for me. I knew we damaged each other. I had my regrets, and I wanted to show him that I’d changed for the better.

I pulled out my iPhone and texted my two best friends, Lo and Tosh. They have been my bitches since grade school. We didn't really have anybody else outside of family growing up and we practically shared a brain. I texted them and told them to meet up at our spot. We were all successful women; there was no doubt about that. Lo, whose real name was Lorean, was a lawyer, while Tosh, whose name was actually Toshi, owned her own social work agency. They took the straight and narrow path, unlike me. We both grew up in the hood, and Lo and I had been on our own since we was fifteen. Our life was not the easiest, and we had endured some fucked-up shit. I made my way towards downtown Detroit. Our spot was this restaurant called "Fishbone."

              I paid twenty dollars for parking and made my way inside. I was seated immediately. I looked at my phone and saw that I had a text from Tez. I chose to ignore it. After everything that had happened, Tez’s and I relationship had changed drastically. Things were different, and I was different; my priorities had changed overnight and Tez really couldn't accept that. I didn’t want anything or anyone more than my husband. Tez felt like I betrayed him and chose Boan over him, and I did and I was supposed to. I think it just took me longer to realize that. Someone sat in front of me, and I looked up from my phone. It was Clay. Clay was the meaning of a pretty-boy. He was tall 6’2, and had an amazing body, cut up with muscles; he had greenish-blue eyes, and curly hair, with a trim beard. He wasn’t my type at all. Clay had been chasing after me since high school. He and Boan had almost come to blows before, but Clay always backed down; Clay didn’t want to mess up his pretty face.

              "Ciara. I haven’t seen you in a while."

              "Well, you shouldn’t be looking for me anyway."

              "You already know, once I see something I want, I end up getting it."

I leaned closer to Clay and licked my lips. He looked like I had just tossed him a bone. "Us, Clay, will only be a part of your wet dreams, sweetheart."

              He clutched his chest acting like he was heartbroken. "You never try to give a nigga a chance."

              "Why should I? You can’t handle the type of woman I am," I said, while winking at him. Lo came to our table just in time.

              "Clay," Lo said. He gave her a head-nod.

              "I’m having a party tonight, at my new club “Feisty.” I’ll expect you ladies there in your finest. Your names will be on the V.I.P. list, and drinks are on the house," Clay offered while standing.

              "That’s fine, but I’m still not fucking you," I said.

Clay smiled, showing his pearly whites. "If you say so."

I watched him walk away, and looked at Lo.

              "The thirst," Lo said. I loved Lo to death. Her family called her “Doll.” Lo was petite; she was five foot even, but had curves in all the right places. Lo had smooth dark skin, and deep dimples. She had the clearest brown eyes I’d ever seen. Her long, thick, wavy, hair was always in one braid down her back, touching her waist. Lo was fluent in French and Spanish. The reason I loved her was because she was brutally honest, and I loved that. She was a firecracker, and didn’t take shit from anybody. Lo would argue and fight anybody—woman or man. She was fearless, and that made her the perfect lawyer. Back when we were younger, Lo and Culprit used to fuck with each other heavy. He was her first love, but he broke her heart, and ever since then, I hadn’t seen Lo with anybody else. I'm pretty sure she had been with other people, but I didn't know about them. When Lo saw Culprit, usually she left, or just acted like he didn't exist. She told me once what happened, and never brought it up again, and hated it when Tosh brought it up. I just left it alone.

              "Who you telling?" I said.

              "So, what was so important that you had to have us meet here? Good thing I was at the courthouse."

              "You’ll find out; can we at least wait for Tosh?"

              "I guess. You going to Clay’s club tonight?"

              "It’s fucking Friday, right?"

              "Guess we’re going," Lo mumbled.

Tosh walked up to the table, all smiles. Tosh was the sweetheart of the group. I was a little over- protective of her. Tosh could have been a model, she was so tall and light skinned. Tosh's eyes were hazel, and she wore her straight, auburn-colored hair below her shoulders. Tosh's track-record with men was different; she was always going out with some dude. Tosh's problem was that she lost interest quickly. She really didn’t know what she wanted, but she knew that she wasn’t going to get played, because she was a sweetheart. Tosh had our backs, and bailed me and Lo out on many occasions; Tosh was the responsible one.

              "Hello, ladies," Tosh greeted us, while giving us a kiss on both cheeks.

              "What’s up?" I said.

              "Really, C, you’re still using slang?"

              "Is it a fucking problem?" I said, while smiling at Tosh. She just shook her head. The waiter came, and we ordered our usual. We talked about going out that night, then they both got quiet while staring at me.

              "Boan is back," I said. Tosh choked on her water.

              "Oh, hell no," Lo muttered.

              "He came back today. I saw him when I went to his mother’s house."

              "I’m sure he wasn’t nice to you," Tosh stating what she already knew.

              "Well, I wouldn’t be if my
wife
tried to
kill
me," Lo emphasized pointing out what I did in the past. I stared at her.

              "But you changed, right, Ciara?" Tosh asked, while looking at me.

              "Yes, you bitches, I have changed," I looked at them shocked that they would even ask me "And at the time when I did try to kill him, I was fucked-up in the head. Too much shit was going on." I finished.

              "Meaning Tez," Lo blasted being blunt as usual, while taking a sip of her Bloody Mary.

              "Anyway, we argued, I cried, and he wants a divorce," I said.

They both looked at each other, then looked at me. "Well, what do you want?" Tosh asked me.

              "Not that. Anything but that."