Read Secrets of a Side Bitch 2 Online
Authors: Jessica Watkins
“Chance, you have to sit up, baby.”
I was struggling. It was four in the afternoon and
he was still hung over. Rae had been blowing up my phone, trying to come over to get some clothes. But I had to ignore her calls because she would have torn that house up if she knew that Chance was there.
“Urrrgh.
I can’t move.”
“So you
’re just going to lay here in throw up?”
I was trying to get the pillow cases off of the pillow that he
’d just thrown up on after miscalculating the time from the bed to the trash can that I put beside the bed.
“No more drinking for you,” I muttered with a giggle as I pushed him over to reveal the pillow underneath him.
“Uhhhh! Please don’t do that no more.”
I just laughed as I took the
pillow case off and held it between two of my acrylic nails. Chance was lucky. Had he not given me such good dick that morning, I would not have been putting up with his drunk stankin’ throw up ass.
Damn
, that dick was good! Had to be to have me cleaning up a nigga’s throw up. I hadn’t had dick in years. And I acted like it. Luckily, he was so drunk that I was sure he wouldn’t recall the way I screamed and hollered over that dick all morning. I couldn’t help it though. It was so long and thick. He hit spots that I didn’t even know I had. And damn did he know how to stroke the pussy. He was damn near dancing in it.
I smiled as the memories crossed my mind
while I picked up items of clothing on the floor that he’d managed to throw up on as well.
“I
’m going to throw your pants in the wash. I’ll be right back, okay?”
Chance me
rely let out, “Mmm humph.”
I laughed and shook my head as I stepped over the rest of our clothes that our
drunk asses had stripped off and threw on the ground in anticipation of getting in the bed that morning.
Unexpectedly, Chance
’s wallet, cell phone, and cash fell out of his pants that I was unknowingly holding upside down as I walked out of the bedroom. As I gathered everything up from the floor to take back into the bedroom, I noticed that his ID said Reginald Barner. Chance’s face was on the ID, but that wasn’t the name that he told me.
“Chance!”
I yelled as I flipped on the light in the room.
“Oh my God.
Please turn that light off.” His words were muffled into the pillow that he lay face down on.
“Who in the hell is
Reginald Barner?! Did you give me a fake name, nigga?!”
That is when Chance rolled over and looked at me. Damn, he looked a hot mess.
But that dick was so good that I could easily overlook him drinking too much.
“That
’s a fake ID,” he said nonchalantly.
“And why do you have a fake ID?”
“To get in the club.”
My mouth
dropped dramatically. “To get in the club?! Oh my God! How old are you?!”
Chance laughed. “Shouldn
’t you ask that
before
you fuck somebody?”
I was starting to panic. Now that I wasn
’t drunk, I noticed that, though he was a cutie pie, he looked young. He didn’t even have that much facial hair.
“Don
’t freak out. I’ll be nineteen in a few weeks.”
“Nineteen
?!”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Ooo, a cougar.
I like that shit,” he moaned seductively as he grabbed a hard dick that was protruding out of his boxers.
Suddenly, I
didn’t care about his age anymore. If he was a youngin’, his dick sure wasn’t. That dick was a grown ass man; seasoned meat.
“
Whatever, boy. Let me go wash these clothes.”
That Saturday was Aeysha’s birthday.
I got up early that morning, dressed Dahlia as warm as I could, and took her to see her mother.
She would have turned twenty-six that day. I fought with myself to forget the plans that we made for this birthday right before she died. At first, she wanted a big party since she finally had a job and things were coming together for her. But once she found out that she was pregnant with Dahlia, she wanted the three of us to simply to take a small trip to Wisconsin Dells as a family.
The cemetery was eerie as hell at nine o
’clock on a cold winter morning. I fought against the slick, icy, and slushy ground as I held on to Dahlia tightly and walked past grave after grave after grave until we reached Aeysha’s headstone. Deflated balloons and dead flowers stuck out from underneath the snow; evidence of my past visits.
I visited Aeysha
’s grave almost every week.
I came twice
a week when I was unable to fake my way through life and was missing my baby until I had to see some remnants of her again.
This
all felt like a crazy dream. One day, she was here. The next, she was gone. In the blink of an eye, with the snap of a finger, she was no longer here as if she was never even here to begin with. If it wasn’t for Dahlia, it would be hard to remember her besides my memories, a few pictures, and where she lay at rest.
I stood at her grave
; staring at the engraved letters of her name on the headstone and holding Dahlia’s cheek against my lips. The smell of Johnson and Johnson overwhelmed me and brought tears to my eyes. There was nothing I loved more than the women that I was in company with. I knew that Aeysha’s soul wasn’t in that grave, but she definitely lived through Dahlia. They were twins. I was so grateful that God saw fit to give Dahlia her mother’s face so that I could see Aeysha in other ways than in my dreams. Dahlia even had her mother’s caramel skin, long lashes, and the one lonely dimple in her left cheek.
In a million years, I would have never guessed that
, on that day and at that moment, that’s where I would be standing. I thought that I had time; time to love Ayesha right, time to show her the man that I could be, time to wife her. That time was taken from me. I blamed myself. I knew that had I been man enough and smart enough to get money legally, Aeysha would be alive. I lived with that guilt every day. Every day I lived in fear that Aeysha’s spirit was living on and hating me for putting her in harm’s way.
I blamed myself, but I knew that
ultimately Ching was at fault. That day, the pain in my heart that stabbed through every vessel every time I thought of the merciless way that nigga shot my love down ached just as bad as it did the day I saw her lifeless body fighting for the ability to live. But on that day, as the small cooing sounds flowing from my beautiful daughter’s lips flooded my ears and put the only genuine smile on my face that it’s held since her mother died, I knew. I knew then that I was undoubtedly going to kill my cousin.
Life was finally feeling somewhat back to normal. I’d spent the last few days looking for a job. I knew that no job I found would take care of me substantially, but it would be something to hold me down until I figured things out.
I was still living in the motel. Although, on the days I kicked it with Gia, I stayed at her place.
Gia
.
Man, just the thought of that girl made me smile like a bitch as I walked through Ford City Mall. I was just walking around the mall wish shopping; wasting time until it was time to hook up with Gia later on that night. That girl
definitely made my current situation not so bad. She was a bad ass chick and was a whole lot of fun. We always just laughed, drank, kicked it, and had a good ass time.
Let
’s not even touch on how good that pussy was.
Jesus
!
That pussy was tight as air;
like she hadn’t had dick in years. She responded to the dick in the same manner; like it was new to her. I don’t know if she just had some good pussy or if older pussy just knew how to fuck better. Either way, I was sold. If I could fuck with shorty and sleep in a house that smelled like Febreze, rather than a stankin’ ass motel, I was more than good with that.
“Yo
’, Chance!”
I
was caught off guard when I heard my name as I stood staring into the window of Foot Locker at the new Jordans. They were damn near three hundred dollars so they would never touch my feet, but it didn’t hurt to look.
“Aw, man! What
’s up, my dude?” When I turned to see who was calling me, I recognized Capone. Instantly, I wondered what in the hell he was doing on this side of town. I knew him from out west. We went to high school together. Eventually he dropped out of high school because he was getting money on the streets.
As we shook up, I asked him, “
What
you
doin’ out here?”
“Naw, man.
What you doin’ out here?”
We
were both raised out west. It was rare to see Westside niggas on the Southside; especially Capone. He got money all day on a block near Lexington House. I walked by him slangin’ on a daily basis. I would even ask him to put me on. He always refused though. Even though we were around the same age, he would always tell me that I needed to just stay in school so that I could get out of Lexington and make a better life for myself.
“I moved out here a few weeks ago
,” was the condensed version that I told him.
“
What happened to you? I heard on the streets that you had just up and disappeared.”
Automatically, my heart started skipping beats, but I knew Capone couldn
’t possibly know anything about Aeysha. It was the guilt that automatically made my blood pressure rise just because he referenced how I up and left town.
“I went to Minnesota.
Tried to get on.”
“Tried?”
“Yea. I got robbed, to be honest,” I told him with an embarrassing laugh.
Laughing along with me, Capone said, “That’s fucked up, joe.”
Capone motioned for me to follow him inside of Foot
Locker. As I did, we kept rapping; catching up on niggas we use to hang with and bitches we use to fuck with out west. He tried on so many pair of shoes that I got tired of watching. First thing he did was cop them new Jays, on top of about five other joints.
I was jealous as hell.
“Aye, man. You still servin’?”
As Capone and I walked out of the Foot
Locker, he held a slick grin on his face. I knew he was selling drugs. No way was he working a nine to five, and no way was he able to drop over a grand on gym shoes on a whim unless he was about to get that grand right back in fast money.
“Something like that,” was his answer.
“You got some work for me?”
He looked cautious. He looked at nothing in particular as we slowed our pace outside of the Foot
Locker. “Honestly, I could use some more manpower that I trust. Me and my nigga thinking about setting up shop on a new block in the burbs.”
Now, my heart was racing in anticipation. My mouth started to water with greed. Capone saw the happiness in my face that I
didn’t even try to hide and laughed.
He still looked reluctant though, so I started to practically beg for a chance to
get put on. “C’mon, Capone, man. I need to get this money. Don’t play me like we still in high school. I’m grown and I need some grown money.”
“You sure you wanna be
‘bout this life?”
“Real talk, it
’s not a question. I’m out of options.”
Some niggas sold drugs because it was easy. I honestly would have taken a different route, but drug money was faster than legal money. I needed fast money before my ass didn
’t even have the nasty ass motel to sleep in.
“
A’ight, man. I’mma fuck with you because I know you. Take my number and holla at me in a few days.”
“Tiana, I need you to watch Dahlia for a minute.”
Tiana looked at me
like I was crazy. I had just walked into the spot out south. I knew that she could see that something was going on. I would never have my baby in the spot. But it was an emergency.
“I
’ll be right back,” I tried to convince her.
“You sure?”
“I swear. C’mon.”
“
A’ight, Omari. Come right back. I got plans.”
Every time I left Aeysha
’s grave, I left with a bigger scar on my heart. But that day the scar was massive and burned like salt in a fresh wound.
I dropped Dahlia off to Tiana, jumped back in my ride, and bent blocks at record speeds. I wasn
’t even thinking. I just felt rage and was heavily seeking revenge. Visions of the digits of Aeysha’s blood pressure rapidly lowering fueled my rage as I swerved through lanes on Seventy-First Street.
When I got to Ching
’s block, I pulled over at the corner and turned off my headlights. Never did I think to stop. I reached into my glove compartment for the .38 that I kept inside. It was about seven o’clock in the evening. The sun had just set. Just a few people were on the streets. I put the car in drive and crept up the street slowly until I was in front of Ching’s crib.
My mind was still pregnant with thoughts of Aeysha. Visions of me attempting to tell my baby girl that her mother was dead, whenever she could comprehend death, made me sick to my stomach. I
wiped the tears away that flowed from my bloodshot eyes as I rolled down the window and pointed the gun at Ching’s house. I thought of Aeysha and I fired repeatedly. Bullets whizzed through the cold biting winter air like parachute fireworks.
The
few pedestrians on the block could be heard screaming as bullets pierced the windows of Ching’s house. Bullets shot through the front door and pierced the siding of the house.
I shot until my finger hurt. I shot until there were no bullets and I was firing out air.
Then I sped off.
Flying down Aberdeen at record speeds, I realized how good that felt. I
’d released three months of pent up vengeful frustrations. For five minutes, I felt better. But as the minutes and seconds slipped by as I flew east on Seventy-Ninth Street towards the e-way, I knew that that wasn’t enough. That wasn’t enough for Ching to pay for what he’d done to Aeysha.
But
it was a start.
It was a warning.
My cell phone started to ring as it lay in my lap. I wasn’t in the mood to talk to no motherfuckin’ body, but when I saw that it was Capone, I answered.
“Whad up?”
“Did you just shoot up Ching’s crib?”
I glanced at the clock with a smile. It had only been fifteen minutes since I left Ching
’s block. I was damn near back in Riverdale.
“Did he get hit?”
“Hell naw.”
Instantly, regret filled my heart. I knew that I was just aiming randomly, but I was just
hoping that I’d hit that nigga.
A warning was good enough though. I wasn
’t quite ready to kill him. I wanted to fuck with him for a little while first.
“He wasn
’t there. His girl was there though.”
A small evil grin ran across my face as I thought of that ratchet bitch running through the house, scared and taking cover.
“You did that shit, homey?” Capone had a slight laugh in his words as he questioned me. “We were supposed to do this shit together.”
“I ain
’t done nothing yet. How you find out so fast?”
“She called him. He was at the spot out west. Word spreads, man. Nobody has ever shot at Ching.”
“Well, somebody is about to start.”