Nasty Girls (15 page)

We had had dinner, and it had been cool. James kept complimenting me on my looks, saying that Roscoe was a lucky man to have me in his life. We had a good vibe going, and next thing I know, he pulled up in front of a motel, we were getting a room, my clothes came off, I sucked his dick, and now he was doing me right below.

His tongue licked around my thighs as he fingered me softly and a few tears began to trickle down the sides of my face. I thought about Roscoe; I thought about Jade. I wanted to yell stop, but the pleasure kept me mute.
Why am I doing this?
my mind was saying, but my body was saying,
You need this, Shy—it's only one night.

I felt James climbing on top of me. His big dick looked like it was coming at me. That shit was big, about ten inches or so. And Jade was taking that in every night? No wonder she had four years with him.

“Ahhh,”
I gasped, clawing at his back and feeling him push inch by inch into me. I swear my eyes rolled in the back of my head as he penetrated me.

He began to thrust, humping in between my widely spread thighs.

“God . . . I wanted you for so long, Shy,” James whispered in my ear as he fucked me. “Damn, you feel so good. . . . Damn, I've waited for this.”

He had my legs rocking back and forth in the air. He then gripped both my ankles and spread my legs apart even wider, as he leaned up, pressed against his knees, and pushed his dick
deeper into me, causing me to lose control and scream. Shit felt like it was nesting in my stomach. Next thing, he fucking me like Speedy Gonzales—rapid and shit. It felt good, a little, but his dick was too big for him to be trying to push all of that in me so fast. He started sweating and shit.

An hour later, we were done. I was sprawled out on the bed while James went to use the bathroom. I was out of it. I couldn't even get up. But my conscience was tearing me apart. I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror over the dresser.

“Shy, you a foul bitch,” I said softly to my reflection. “How could you do that? Jade's your girl and you know how grimy James is. Him and Roscoe are best friends.”

“You said somethin', Shy?” James shouted through the closed bathroom door.

“No.”

I started to tear up, feeling like shit. I had never cheated on Roscoe. I love that man with all my heart. I was mad at him. I was envious of Jade. She still had her man around, getting the dick every night, while I was left with toys and my fingers night after night. I'm not used to spending time alone. I always had a man around, even my bitch-ass father when he was alive. I always had someone to love me and keep me company. Since I was fourteen, I had a boyfriend. And in one night, that changed for me. My man was on Rikers, while Jade's man came home to her every night.

I quickly jumped off the bed, collected my things, and shouted to James, “James, I'm ready to go.”

“But we got the room for another five hours!”

“I'm ready to go now,” I said, getting dressed.

I heard the toilet flush, and James stepped out of the bathroom, still butt naked.

“Shy, why you trippin'? Don't nobody know we here. We way out on L.I. Chill, baby,” he said calmly, coming over to me.

“No, I need to go now,” I repeated, pushing him away from me.

He sighed. “Whatever.”

Within the next hour, we had checked out and were headed back to Queens. During the whole ride, I tried not to cry, but Roscoe was on my mind.

I had James drop me off a few blocks from my building. I didn't want anyone seeing me exit his Hummer this late at night. I didn't even say good-bye to him. I just hopped out his truck and walked briskly to my building.

When I walked into my apartment, the first thing I saw when I turned on the lights was a picture of Roscoe and me that had been taken at Coney Island one night. It was sitting on the widescreen TV. I broke down crying and collapsed on my bed.

“Baby, I fucked up,” I whispered to myself.

F
or it to be November, it was so nice outside, the weather man said it would feel like a spring day, with temperatures reaching up to sixty degrees. I decided to spend today outside, enjoying the day, not cooped up in the crib, worrying about my man or waiting for him to bring his ass home whenever he felt like it.

I wanted to look nice today, and threw on a short cute white skirt, my Fendi shoes, sporting a cream Baby Phat jacket that Shy and I bought together one afternoon, and to top it off, I rocked a blue and white Yankees fitted. I had to admire myself.

I strutted out my building, thinking a bitch needed a job or something. Shy worked. Camille had her hustle. I waited around for James all the fucking time. And I was so tired of that. I needed to be independent like my girls. I moved outta my mother's crib when I was eighteen and landed right in James's apartment, where he promised to take care of me forever and shit. And a bitch believed those promises. I was young and so fucking naïve. When the truth came out, it was too late for me. My mother moved to South Carolina, and I was stuck living
with James. I got cousins and aunts, but they have their own damn problems, and you know a bunch of women living under one roof is going to cause problems. I didn't need the extra headaches in my life.

Soon as I stepped out of my building, I saw the eyes watching me, loving me. The fellows said, What's up, and kept conversation friendly and respectful toward me. They all knew James, and they all knew his reputation. So they let me be. But you had a few that were bold enough to come at me on some different shit, sometimes even all disrespectful and shit.

Like Charlie. Now this nigga has had a crush on me since we were both in grade school. And he definitely didn't like the fact that me and James had hooked up. He would always let his feelings for me be known, and he even started talking disrespectful about James. We had been together for a year then. Charlie would buy me flowers and candy, give me cards on my birthday, and if I needed a favor, he was there.

I tried to warn Charlie, letting him know to chill on the gifts and his feelings for me. James was becoming furious and had threatened him a few times. But Charlie, being who he was and never scaring easily, kept up his pursuit toward me, dissing James. “I don't give a fuck about him. Jade, we knew each other for too long! Fuck him! He ain't stoppin' me from doin' shit!” Charlie would say.

Then one night, I was coming out of the bodega, and Charlie was standing out front. He saw me and approached me, smiling. He volunteered to help me carry my groceries to my apartment.

We didn't even get to cross the street when a black SUV suddenly screeched to a stop in front of us and about five niggas,
including James, rushed out and attacked Charlie in front of me. They beat him with bats, fists, and whatever else they had so badly that he was in a coma for weeks. James yanked me by my arm and dragged me into the truck. I was yelling and terrified. I looked at Charlie's bloody, abused, and battered body slumped against the curb as they pulled off. His face looked like hamburger meat.

When we got into the apartment, James let me have it. That was the first time he ever put his hands on me. He said he hit me because he loved me and because he was so jealous. After the black eye and swollen cheeks, he promised never to touch me again, which was a fucking lie. I had been so embarrassed that I stayed indoors for weeks, ducking Camille and Shy for days.

After that incident with James, I never saw Charlie around the way again. Some claimed that he died in the hospital, but I didn't believe 'em. Charlie was an example to other men who even dared tried stepping to me. James put the message out clearly that I was his woman, and not to be messed with.

I strutted across the street to the nearest bodega. I needed a cigarette. I had tried to quit smoking when I was pregnant, but after I lost the baby, the craving quickly came back.

I saw a police car drive down the street, and I thought about Officer Reese. He was cute. But dealing with a cop in my neighborhood was the wrong thing for a sista to do. Muthafuckas are quick to criticize you and shit—thinking you snitching or something. That's okay.

“Let me get two looseys,” I said to the Hindu store clerk. I passed him a dollar, and he gave me two loose cigarettes.

“Let me get a pack of gum too. Winter fresh.”

I walked out the bodega, thinking about taking a cab over
to my cousin's place. She had a basement apartment over on Merrick. She lived there in peace with her son.

Then I heard someone shout out, “Hey, Jade!”

I turned around and saw Officer Reese coming my way. His partner was in the car, seated behind the driver's seat. Officer Reese smiled, being clad in his dark blue uniform, his belt clustered with cop shit, gun holstered on his right hip, and his shoes looked Payless.

“Officer Reese,” I said, surprised.

“How you doing? Everything okay with you?” he asked. His right hand rested lightly, almost casually, on his gun.

“I'm okay. I was just on my way to see my cousin,” I said.

His smooth brown skin shone in the sun, and he looked taller than the last time I saw him.

“It's good to see you out. You're looking good,” he said, staring at me.

“You too,” I said.

Our conversation was sparse. Maybe he was nervous, but I knew for sure that I didn't want the attention talking to a cop.

“Um . . . well, you still have my card, right?” he asked.

“Yeah, I still have it.”

“Give me a call sometime,” he said, but his eyes said that he wanted to say more to me than just give him a call.

“I might. Been busy.”

“Oh, that's good. Well, it's nice seeing you. I got to run in here and get a few things for my partner and myself, but I want to hear from you whenever you're free, Jade.”

“Maybe,” I said, flirting a little.

He smiled.

His partner honked the horn, shouting, “Reese, come on! We ain't got all day!”

“See you,” I said.

He walked into the store, never taking his eyes off me. I knew he liked me, and it was cool. It was funny to see him act kinda nervous around me. Here he was, a cop, here to protect and serve and probably acting like a hard-ass on the streets to have a reputation, but when he came around me, he became sheepish and humble. It made me feel good, like a woman, having NYPD blush.

 

I
got to my cousin's crib around two that afternoon. My cousin Shana, we tight like that. She got one son, J.J., short for Jakim Jr. Now her story, it belongs in a book and should become a bestseller. Because Shana, she's been through some shit.

Shana is two years older than me, being twenty-three, and her son is three. I always heard stories about my cousin and her promiscuous ways back in the days. Her baby father, Jakim, was killed a few years ago by his best friend, and till this day, my cousin feels guilty about his death. She talks about it with me once in a while, but I can still see it be fucking wit' her. Jakim was so cool, and he was cute. I met him a handful of times. I had a little crush on him when I was fourteen, fifteen.

I remember my cousin talking to me about her relationship with Tyrone, and how they got down. Then admitting how wrong it was for her to mess with friends like that. But like myself, my cousin was into thugs back then. That's all she dealt with, and the dick had her open. But I respect my cousin Shana,
because despite all the trouble she's done been through in her life with men, her friends, and the law, she still landed on her feet and is doing her right now.

She got the nice two-bedroom apartment on Merrick for her and her son. It's comfortable, and she ain't got no man paying her bills for her. She goes to school at York College, and she's holding down a cushy job at some insurance company on Hillside Avenue. Word, I love her for doing her. We don't see each other as often we would like to, but when we do, it always love between us.

“Hey, Jade,” Shana greeted, giving me a hug as I stood in her doorway.

“What's up, Shana?” I said, all cheery and shit.

“What brings you by here?” Shana asked. “I haven't seen you in a while.”

“I was around and decided to stop by and see what's good wit' you,” I said.

“You in trouble?” Shana asked.

“No, nuthin' like that. I'm cool.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, everything cool wit' me, Shana.”

“A'ight now . . .'cause you know if anything pop off, I got your back.”

“I got yours too.”

She smiled and gave me another hug. I walked into her nicely arranged apartment. I loved her place. It wasn't the biggest apartment on the block, but it was comfortable.

Shana cut her hair short, sporting a bob. I don't know why, and she gained a little weight, but she still looked good.

“Where's J.J.?” I asked.

“He's over at my mother's,” she said.

“Damn, I wanted to chill wit' lil' man. I haven't seen him in weeks.”

“He fine, wit' his lil' bad ass. When you gonna babysit for me, Jade?” Shana asked, smiling.

“When I start havin' kids on my own,” I joked.

“Oh, I see . . . it's like that, huh?”

“Yeah, it's like that,” I said teasingly.

“Yeah, look at you, you're too cute to be babysitting little badass kids, coming outside in a skirt and those shoes.”

“Shana, you know how we get down. Everyday is important for me, and it's nice outside. I had to show off a little sumthin' to tease these niggas wit'.”

She chuckled. “You want sumthin' to eat or drink? I just went shopping yesterday and got a fridge full of shit. I don't know why; J.J. and I can't eat everything.”

“So why you buy it?”

“ 'Cause my ass got greedy.”

I laughed. “Yeah, give me a soda or sumthin'.”

I took a seat on her couch and took off my shoes. Shana doesn't like people wearing shoes in her apartment. Her carpet was new and rich, and she kept her place tidy.