Long As You Know Who You Belong To (7 page)

“Aw, shit! Look at your ol’ cake baking ass!” Grey
slapped me on the shoulder and let out a deep laugh. “Nah, for real
though. She’s a good look. I like her for you.”

“Aight, aight. Enough of that shit. We’re about to
shoot to Westfield Topanga and get you some new new shit, grab some
Po’ boys from Orleans and York, smash that, and then hit the city
tonight. You need to get out.” I hopped on the 101-S and headed
towards the mall.

“Hell yeah. That sounds like the move. I’m going to
hit Jerk and Tyler and see if they’re down to roll too.” 

I nodded in agreement as I drove onto the crowded
freeway. Not only did Grey need to ease his frustrations, but I was
also in need of a night out. I had been up under Blu since the day
we met, and that wasn’t even me. She had me gone. There was no way
in hell I was going to go out like a sucka. So a night out would do
me some good.

“Ol’ fashion show ass nigga! C’mon, dawg!” I heard
Jerk yelling from downstairs. I could tell he was good and lit, so
I knew that tonight would be a wild one.

I passed by the floor to ceiling mirrors that were on
the wall next to my bed and double checked my appearance. Dressed
in a pair of black, coated slim cut jeans by Diesel, a black,
white, and gold Joyrich muscle tee, a black on black Detroit Vs
Everybody snapback, and my Jordan Spizike’s, I looked damn good.
The full sleeve of tattoos on both arms were out. I had been
letting my facial hair grow in after the last modeling gig made me
cut it, and my boy Jake had my line up crispy. I was normally on my
model shit, but tonight I felt like chillin’.

I walked down the stairs and rounded the corner to
kick it with my niggas in the kitchen. Jerk, Tyler, and Grey were
already taking back shots and had poured me one for every one that
I had missed.

“Oh, shit! It's Mani from the block in this bitch!”
Grey laughed.

“Damn, nigga! I almost didn’t recognize you without
ya model make-up on!” Tyler clowned.

“Fuck ya’ll!” I laughed.

It felt good to be around my niggas. Jerk was a nigga
we had met in college. He was from the Bay and had moved to
Michigan to go to Eastern on a scholarship. His real name was Cole
Spencer, but he was such an asshole that all the females on campus
gave him the nickname and it stuck. Tyler was my brother’s best
friend from the hood. We all grew up together, and when Grey made
the move to L.A., he encouraged Tyler to roll with him. He wasn't a
street nigga at all but you couldn't tell when he was hanging with
us. This nigga Tyler was as ratchet as they came, but he turned
that shit off quick, fast, and in a hurry when it came to work. He
was one of the top engineers at Toyota and was definitely about his
coins.

I slammed back all five of the Remy V shots that they
had poured for me, and we left the house. We decided to take two
cars to South Beach, so Grey and I hopped into my Range Rover and
Tyler and Jerk got into Tyler’s black 2015 Jaquar XK.

We made it to the club twenty minutes later, and
there was a line down the block going both ways on the street. The
valet greeted the boss and skated past the security, up the
elevator, and into the club. My brother had that shit rocking! It
was wall to wall people, beautiful bartenders, and bottle girls,
and the DJ was going in. It was fine ass girls all over the place
in every different shape and color, like a fucking buffet. I was
ready to dive in. What I wasn’t ready for was the tap that landed
on my shoulder.

“Fancy running into you here.”

Aw, shit. I knew that voice anywhere. I turned around
and came face to face with my ex, Vicious. I just knew tonight was
going to get crazy.

I was mad annoyed. I had planned on doing nothing but
propping my feet up and surfing Netflix in my pj’s, but Nakami had
stormed up in my condo, breathing fire and raging on about some
fight with Grey. I halfway listened as she ranted on and on.

“Blu! Earth to Blu! What the fuck?! Are you even
listening?”

“Honestly, I tuned you out after you said you
bleached his clothes. What is wrong with you?” I threw the remote
control onto the couch and walked to my kitchen. I grabbed a bottle
of Arbor Mist Peach Moscato out of the wine cooler and a glass out
of the cabinet.

I was over hearing her talk about Grey. If she wasn’t
dick riding and going on and on about how special and perfect he
was, she was losing her damn mind trying to catch him in a lie or
with some other chick. I know that her last relationship didn’t end
well, but damn! She needed to ease up.

“Ain't nothing wrong with me! He’s the one with the
problem,” she pouted as she picked up her phone.

“Kami, you got to chill. Ya’ll have been dating for
two months, and you already destroying his property? You’re going
to lose him if you keep this shit up.”

Everything I said went out in one ear and out the
other. “Oh, so he out partying, huh?”

“What?”

“The gps I put on his phone...”

I cut her off. “You put a tracker on his phone?”

“Yes. And when he left his house, he went to the mall
and then back to Kimani’s so-”

I cut her off again. “You been stalking this nigga
all day?”

She looked at me like I was the one with the issue.
“Yes, bitch. Any more questions before we go find this nigga,
Detective Buckley?”

“You the one playing the police, hoe!” I snapped.
“And what are you talking about
we
going to find him? I'm
not going anywhere.”

“Yes, you are because I can bet that your man is
right by his side entertaining some thot bitch in a Rainbow
outfit.”

I poured the glass of wine and took a sip to calm my
nerves. Nakami sure knew how to get me worked up.

“First of all, Kimani is not my man. We’re just
kicking it. He can have all the thot pockets he wants. Secondly,
you need to have several seats if you think I’m about to run up
behind you to chase this man that has given you no reason to think
he’s doing something scandalous. Find some chill,” I said as I
rolled my eyes. It was only when I opened them that I realized that
I had just been talking to myself. Feeling like my attempts to calm
my best friend down weren’t registering, I walked to my bedroom
where I found her rifling through my walk-in closet.

“The hell?”

“Here. You haven't even taken the tags off this.” The
dress that she flung my way hit me in the face. I caught it before
it hit the floor and put a hand on my hip. “I’m not going.”

“Blu. We don't have time to debate this. This nigga
probably has some little pop tart twerking all over his lap right
now. We need to get dressed and go. Now!” she screamed.

She grabbed a few items from my closet, walked into
the bathroom down the hall, and slammed the door. I sighed in
frustration because I knew there was no way she was letting up. I
really didn’t have a choice but to get dressed and participate in
this fuckery.

Nakami and I hopped out of her Porsche, already faded
from hitting the blunt, and she tossed the keys to the valet. It
was around 12:45 a.m. when we finally arrived to South Beach and
there was still a line around the corner. We bypassed that shit and
walked straight into the club as the bouncer recognized Nakami as
Grey’s girl. The club was live and, although I had been reluctant
to go, I was warming up to the idea of partying the night away. I
knew Nakami wanted to hunt down Grey, but I wasn’t about to be
going on an embarrassing dummy mission with her. So I had called in
reinforcements. I spotted them standing by the bar.

“Domani! Yhazmine!” I squealed as I approached my
friends.

It had been a while since we had hung out, but I was
glad to see that they had made it on such short notice. Domani and
Yhazmine were a set of fraternal twins that I had met when I
attended community college. Domani stood about 5’5” with dark brown
eyes, black shoulder length bone straight hair, and a body like
Draya. Her sister, Yhazmine, was around 5’7” with a cute blonde
pixie cut, slanted almond shaped eyes, and a body more reminiscent
of Ciara. They were both bad as fuck and cool as hell. When they
saw me approaching, they screamed and embraced me.

“I'm so glad ya’ll made it!”

“Girl, truth is we were already headed here. I heard
that this was the new hot spot so we had to check it out,” Domani
smiled.

“Yeah, you know
my
man
did a good job
with this place.” Nakami walked into our conversation with a
satisfied look on her face.

Yhazmine rolled her eyes. “We already know that
you’re sleeping with the owner, Nakami. No need to flex.”

“No flex, boo. I just needed to make sure ya’ll
understand that he’s off limits.”

“Anybody that fucks with your crazy ass is just as
mental as you are. So you don’t even have to worry about that,”
Domani remarked before she dropped a few bills on the bar. She
snatched up her drink and walked away with Yhazmine on her
heels.

Domani and Yhazmine did not like Nakami. They put up
with her because she was my best friend, but they thought she was a
loon and a half. I couldn’t blame them. When they first met, Nakami
got us kicked out of a restaurant for throwing her food on a waiter
who she had suspected spit in it. And that was something light
compared to the stuff I had seen her do. Nakami acted on pure
emotion 99% of the time and never felt it necessary to get all the
facts before she lost her cool. But I had to fuck with her the long
way because no matter how out of pocket she got, she always had my
back.

I started to walk away to catch up with Domani and
Yhazmine, and Nakami pulled on my arm.

“Where are you going?”

“To kick it with them. I told you I would come with
you, but I'm not about to be in the middle of your foolery. Handle
your business, but I’m going to be over there.” I pointed in the
direction of my friends.

“Oh, yeah? So you mean to tell me you’re not going to
check your boo about that half naked slutbucket that’s popping her
twat in his face?”

I turned in the direction she was staring in, and my
heart dropped to the soles of my Giuseppe heels. I had come to the
club knowing the situation between Kimani and I was clear on the
fact that we were just cool. But as I watched him cozy up to ol'
girl, I knew at that moment that I more than liked Kimani. I
watched as a very pretty brown-skinned woman, with a weave that
touched her ass, wound her body like a snake in front of him.
Kimani was on his hood shit, swagged out with a drink in his hand.
He looked damn good. I instantly became jealous as he stood and
started dancing up on her. The dark haze that had fallen over the
club made it hard for me to make her out, but something about her
seemed familiar. Before I could stop myself, I was following behind
Nakami as she stalked over to their section.

Grey had the booth drowning in bottles of everything
from Ace of Spades to Louis XIII. There were women piled into the
booth, falling over themselves to compete for the attention of the
four fine ass men that surrounded them. Grey was the only one who
wasn't dancing on a chick when we walked up. That to me signaled
that Nakami had nothing to worry about, but that didn't stop her
from going in off rip.

“Really, Grey? You out here trying to catch you a new
one?” Nakami put her hand up to mush Grey in the face, but Grey
grabbed her wrist.

“What do you see me doing, huh? Pouring a drink is a
crime? Kicking it with my niggas is wrong? Yo, you wildin’.” Grey
roughly let go of Nakami’s arm.

Nakami grabbed up the girl that was closest to Grey,
pulled her by the arm, and pushed her out of VIP. She went for the
next bitch and did the same. “Ya’ll hoes gotta go!”

Grey’s dark skinned friend, who reminded me of the
actor Lance Gross, tried to butt in. “Yo, who is this bitch?”

Nakami threw her hands on her hips. “I’m
his
bitch, nigga! Who are you?”

Grey jumped between the pair, trying to prevent the
inevitable from popping off. Kimani finally stopped dry humping
long enough to look up and saw Nakami and me standing there. When
he saw me, he looked stuck like a deer in headlights. Regaining his
composure slightly, he damn near pushed the girl he was with to the
floor trying to get to me. I smiled to myself. Unlike Nakami, I was
going to play this cool. As Kimani approached me, I side stepped
him and went for the girl.

“You good, mama?” I grabbed her arm to steady her
balance.

“Yeah, I’m straight. Thank you.” She shot a look at
Kimani.

“I'm Blu.” I extended my hand. She stared at me for a
moment before she shook it.

"Vicious.” She flashed a smiled.

“Oh shit! You're in that singing group, Wild 1’s.
Ya’ll are dope! That song
Trappin’
is my shit, girl!”

I knew I recognized her face from somewhere. She was
his ex-boo or something. I remembered seeing pictures of them
together at a few events on my favorite gossip site, Baller Alert.
From what I knew, they had a bad break-up so I was a little shocked
to see them grinding all up on each other. But this was what you
sign up for when you try and date someone who’s well known. He was
in the industry, and these were the types of chicks that were
trying to get his attention. Because of their history, I knew I
needed to nip the situation in the bud if I was ever going to stand
a chance.

Before she could respond, Kimani interrupted. “Hey,
Blu. What… uh...what you doin’ here?” He smiled with only one
corner of his mouth. Something I noticed he did when he was
nervous; cute.

“Oh, you know Nakami,” I answered. “Always with the
drama. So I had to come and make sure she didn't get into too much
trouble.”