God Don't Like Haters 2 (12 page)

I screamed in pain and passion.

As he filled my pussy with never-ending shaft
at a death-defying pace, I wrapped my legs around his waist and
locked my arms around his neck. He was punishing me.

"I'm sorry!" I shouted.

"You better be," he grunted.

I tried to pull on his neck to get him to
come down and kiss me again but he wouldn't budge. He was looking
down at me fiercely, but it seemed more like he was looking past
me, as if he was thinking about someone else. Did Kirbie turn him
down at the studio and now he was taking his anger out on me?

He kept thrusting hard and it felt so good. I
wanted to believe this passion was all about me and him and nothing
else but I wasn't so sure. Cream poured out of me. It was a lake,
soaking my couch cushions. He turned me on my side and bent one of
my knees toward my breasts and started giving me another pounding.
I was crammed sideways against the arm of the couch. It was
uncomfortable. And I know he knew it. He was treating me like a
whore.

"I said I was sorry!" I squealed.

"My nigga got shot because of you,
bitch!"

"Coras, I didn't tell Milo to shoot
anybody."

"I told you not to let nobody in our
business. Especially your brother. You knew what the fuck you were
doing."

His dick was so hard and forceful that I
tried to push on his thigh to prevent him from going so deep, but
he kept gushing in and out if me with such boorishness that I was
afraid I'd snap my wrist if I kept trying to stop him. It was
blissful to have him inside me again, but the way he was fucking me
made it hard to enjoy. This was all about him.

This was rage.

I was starting to feel the muscle tightness
of a charley horse.

"Coras, just cum in me please. Please, baby?
I'm sorry!"

He pulled out. I was afraid to move because I
wasn't sure if a cramp would seize me. Gently, I tried to
straighten out my leg—and that's when I felt it.

Coras jizzed on me. 

"Really, muthafucka?" I snapped. It was
running down my stomach.

That was one thing Coras knew not to do to
me. I was down for a lot of freaky shit—I'd swallow his cum, let
him fuck me in the ass, I was down for bondage—but skeeting on me
was disrespectful and he knew how I felt about it. I tried to move
but my muscles were nearly paralyzed.

He was pulling his boxers up, tucking his
meat in. His pants went on so quick it was like one motion.

"You're leaving, you bastard."

After he put on his shirt, he said, "I just
came to let off some frustration."

"Kirbie didn't let you fuck tonight?"

"What makes you think I was with Kirbie?"

I didn't answer him because I didn't want to
reveal that I knew his Site password.

"You know what?" he began.
"I 
was
 with Kirbie. And I 
did
 try
to fuck and, you're right, she didn't let me. You wanna know why?
Because she has a man. I respect her for that. But I don't respect
you."

"Coras—"

"Nah, shut the fuck up man. You know what
this is. The only reason I been fucking wit' you is because yo
brother is my plug."

He said it. He really just said that shit to
me. It brought tears to my eyes. I knew that was the only thing
holding us together but I never wanted it to be spoken aloud.

"I've always wanted to fuck you like I just
did," he went on, looking down at me like I was a one-night stand.
"You're a scumbag slut-ass bitch, and you deserve to be mishandled
and skeeted on. Take this as my farewell. Because I'm done fucking
wit' you. Kirbie is about to catch a plane in the morning to go
sign a record deal that's gonna have her set for life. It's only a
matter of time before I get on. So I don't need you or your brother
no more."

He started walking toward the door.

"Coras!" I yelled.

He didn't stop. So I started to get up off
the couch to go for the gun in my purse, but suddenly my hamstring
in my right leg contracted violently and I hit the floor with a
hard thud. It was a charley horse, the worst ever.

"Coras, help!"

But he was already gone. And I laid on the
floor writhing in a pain that was a lot stronger than the one in my
leg.

Chapter 17

Kirbie Amor Capelton

"Archie, have you seen my boarding pass?" I asked,
as I checked my black Tory Burch satchel again. It was made of
pebbled Italian leather and had three zip pockets that I'd searched
a thousand times, but I was going through them one more time,
pocket by pocket.

"I haven't seen it," Archie replied.

I looked at him with irritation. He was
leaning against the dresser in his favorite heather gray sweater.
He had his left arm crossed over his chest that was giving support
to his right elbow, as he fiddled with a toothpick in his mouth. He
saw how scatterbrained I was and he hadn't moved a muscle to assist
me.

"Can you help me look, please?" I said.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't need to be going
nowhere."

I cocked my head at him, trying not to get
even more upset that he was acting like this at a very critical
time. I had a flight to catch. "Archie, we talked about this
already. This is a chance of a lifetime."

"So you say. But you could get off of that
plane in New York, get whisked away in a limo and wind up chopped
up into little pieces by tomorrow morning."

I didn't have time for this. I started
packing more clothes. Sundi Ashworth told me to pack three days'
worth of outfits, and from there she'd buy me more clothes to fit
the look she and her stylist were going for. My body quivered when
she said 
stylist
. It made all of these images pop in my
head of being pampered by a fashion designer tape-measuring my
shoulder width, while a make-up artist powder-brushed my cheekbones
with mineral foundations.

I was excited and nervous to see how they
transformed me. I hoped I didn't have to say no to their "look,"
whatever that may end up being.

"What am I gonna do with all of this
cocaine?" Archie asked. "We made the trip to get the bricks, and
now the next day you're bailing on me."

"I'm not bailing on you."

"What do you call it then?"

"Archie, you act like you can't get rid of
them yourself for a while. I won't be gone forever."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I don't know."

He repeated my words sorely. "I. Don't. Know
... hmmm ..." Then he said, "What kind of woman wakes her fiancé up
in the wee hours of the morning to tell him she's about to catch a
plane to the other side of the country? How do you think I feel?
We're gonna be married one day, Kirbie. We're supposed to make
these decisions as a team."

"This has been my dream since I was a little
girl, Archie! My daddy would play Caylene Hope records at breakfast
time and I would sing along and imagine myself on stage with
her."

"Was this before or after he beat you?"

I just stared at his disrespectful ass as he
twiddled his toothpick with his tongue.

"Will you please help me find my boarding
pass?" I asked desperately. He didn't move. He just kept clucking
his tongue. "Fine, I'll just print off another one. Did you shut
the computer off?"

Casually, he leaned off of the dresser and
reached behind himself. All of a sudden he had the e-ticket in his
hand. It had been in his back pocket this whole time.

I snatched it from him.

***

I drove myself to the airport in my Mercedes because
Archie refused to. He said as long as my car was sitting unoccupied
in the airport parking lot, then I'd be more inclined to get back
to Kansas City as soon as possible.

"You know they steal those airport cars all
the time," he had warned me. "Especially the ones that have been
sitting for a while."

But I didn't care about his little games.
Because if this record deal worked out, I'd be able to afford a
hundred new Mercedes.

On the shuttle bus over to my terminal, I got
a call from Coras.

"Hello?" I answered.

"How you doing, superstar?"

I blushed. And even though I didn't know any
of the people sitting near me, I still put my hand over my widening
smile.

"I'm not a superstar yet," I replied into the
phone.

"You will be soon enough. Are you
nervous?"

"What do you think?"

"I think you're ready."

"What if they end up not signing me?"

"Don't think like that. Positive thinking
only, please." Then he said, "Did you talk to Sundi again this
morning?"

"Yes. She was just calling to remind me of
the time and what she'd be wearing so I won't have a problem
spotting her at the airport."

"Did she say where yall would be going
first?"

"No. But I assume we'll be headed to Mount
Eliyah ENT headquarters to sign the contract. I'm anxious to see
what the inside looks like. In the magazines they only show the
outside."

"She just might take you to dinner first, get
you drunk and try to woo you over. If she does, you better let her
woo you."

I laughed. "Damn right," I said. Then my tone
took on a bite of worry. "Where are you at?" I asked.

I remembered last night at the studio he told
me Ashleigh might not let him back in her house because he walked
out on her to come meet me. I knew he wasn't staying with Monifa
because he told me he was done with her and Milo and that whole
operation. I hoped he wasn't back staying in a hotel. His ass
needed to get his own place and stop trying to live under the
radar. Successful people had bank accounts and paper trails. All
the big rappers did. I told him this all the time but he never took
heed, either because I was younger than him or because I was a
female. Or both.

Coras said, "What did Archie think of you
heading to New York on such short notice?"

He completely dodged my
question, 
I noted. And that was fine. If Coras was still
staying with Ashleigh it was none of my business. He wasn't my man.
I was just glad I stopped things between me and him last night
before we went too far.

"Archie tried to hide my boarding pass this
morning," I admitted.

"Figures," Coras said. "That sounds like
something he would do. I can't believe you're gonna end up marrying
your biggest hater."

"He's not."

"This is your chance to get rid of him. Once
you start topping the charts, fake a fallout with him. Tell him
things just aren't working out. Kirbie, you know you can't be a
celebrity with a husband like Archie," he said, and was actually
being serious about it. "Tell me I'm lying."

"You're wrong on so many levels. That type of
shadiness is why you're never gonna find happiness, Coras."

"I already found my happiness. But my
happiness is giving her happiness to someone else."

There was a short silence after he said that.
Then my shuttle bus came to a stop and it was time to unload. I
told Coras I had to call him back and he told me to make sure I did
before my plane took off. "I got a surprise for you," he said. As I
pulled my luggage through the airport and shuffled through the
painstakingly tedious security checkpoint, I kept wondering what
that surprise was. In my wildest thoughts, I imagined him proposing
to me over the phone and ordering me to throw Archie's engagement
ring out of the window 
after
 the plane took off
(not possible, but it was still something Coras would say). I
imagined myself answering
 
him with a
heartfelt 
yes.

After I went to the restroom and found an
open seat in my departure section of the terminal, they were
announcing that it was time to board and began calling out
passengers to stand in line according to seating listed on our
tickets. I didn't get a chance to call Coras back until after I was
on the plane and had stuffed my carry-on in the overhead
compartment and plopped down in my window seat.

I buckled my seatbelt and dialed.

"Kirbie, hold on," he answered. Then I didn't
hear a thing. I hoped he knew I didn't have a lot of time before
the stewardess would start instructing passengers to shut our
phones off.

"Hello, Kirbie? Wussup, baby girl!"

"GEE!" I exclaimed. "Oh my God, you're the
surprise. Are you okay? How are you doing?"

"I'm fine. But I'd be better if I had
something to drink. I told Coras to bring me a bottle of Earl
Stevens and all he brought was a get-well card."

"No, Gee. No more drinking. The doctor told
us your life is at risk. We're putting you in rehab for real this
time. By the time I get back home, you better be admitted."

"Rehab is for quitters. All we do is
win."

"Gee, I'm serious. How are you holding
up?"

"Pretty good. I should be able to go home in
a couple days."

"Coras told me you charged at the guy with
the gun at the Sprint Center. What were you thinking?"

"Guns don't kill people. People kill people.
And he didn't look like a killer. I was wrong though."

I laughed. Gee had a way of finding humor in
any situation. I was glad he was going to be okay. For the next few
minutes until the phones-off announcement came, he made jokes about
me being too much of a thug to be famous, but he congratulated me
and wished me much success. I told him in so many words that no
matter how big I got, no matter if I was in the middle of a Grammy
speech, I'd drop whatever I was doing and have his back in a
heartbeat. Milo's days were numbered.

Me and Gee said goodbye and see you later to
each other. I had wanted to tell Coras goodbye but Gee had already
hung up.

"Will this be your first time in New York?"
my neighbor asked.

I turned to her. She couldn't have been much
older than me. Her hair was flipped over one shoulder and there was
a white gold fringe drop earring dangling from the lobe closet to
me. She was pretty, but her face was so thin it was almost
masculine. I assumed she was a fashion model.