Thug Lovin' (24 page)

“Well I told you I was in school and you wanted me to do the murals at the club, remember? Thank you for the extra work.”

“Don’t get it twisted, I didn’t want you to do a mural at the club, that was my partner, but since you brought it up, when
are you going to finish it? My people are getting concerned and thinking you on some bullshit.” He wanted to get her to talking.

“I’m not.”

“I’m not what? On some bullshit or going to finish the job?”

“I’m not going back there. What if your wife sees me there?”

“My wife?” Trae frowned. “What does she have to do with anything?”

“I don’t want her finding out about me and you. But if you continue to act the way you have been, I will have to let her know
about us.” Sabeerah started laughing. “It’s bad enough that Mysterious knows. I have a hard time dealing with her. But add
your wife to the equation? I had to duck her out the other day. As a matter of fact, you can come by and pick up your portrait
because I mean it when I said I’m not stepping foot in there again.” She instantly changed up and was making no sense to Trae.

“Hold up. Hold up. You can’t just leave the job half done.”

“I am. Did you know that bouncer was very disrespectful and that he practically threw me out the last time I was there?”

“What bouncer?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know who I’m referring to. That big one! I don’t know his name. But it doesn’t matter, I’m not coming
back. I need my money so please come and pick this up today!” She hung up the phone.

Trae looked at the phone in complete puzzlement. “This bitch is crazy.” He replayed their conversation over again in his mind.
Something ain’t right and I need to know what it is.

Trae arrived at Sabeerah’s apartment around seven-thirty. He knocked on the door and was about to kick it down when she opened
it.

“Sorry for taking so long. I was expecting you. When you talk about telling wifey, that usually makes y’all niggas act right,”
she greeted him as she held the door open for him to come in. It looked as if she was packing to move. “Don’t mind the boxes.
I got some more of my stuff sent from home. As you see, I still haven’t unpacked. Can I get you something to drink? I just
made some fresh lemonade. It’s the bomb. Have a seat, let me get you a glass.” She rushed off before he could answer.

He looked around at all the boxes she had. The majority of them were marked
BOOKS
or
ART SUPPLIES
.

She came back with the glass. “Have a seat.” She handed it to him.

Trae looked around. “You joking, right?”

She laughed. “All you had to do was move this box right here.” She went over to the futon.

“Mind if I take a look around?”

“No, make yourself comfortable. I need to jump in the shower.” She stood there staring at him. “Are you going to taste my
lemonade or what?”

“As soon as you tell me you’re going to come and finish the job you started, yeah.”

She rolled her eyes. “You need to talk to that bouncer dude.”

“I’ll talk to him. Even though I don’t know which one you’re talking about.” He finished the glass of lemonade in a few gulps.
“A little too sweet for me.”

“I had to put a little extra sugar in it to cover up my secret ingredient.” She took the glass from him. “Have a seat.”

Trae moved a couple of boxes and sat down. “Did you quit that escort service?”

Sabeerah rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t work for an escort service.”

That was the last thing Trae remembered as he woke up in a candlelit room. He was naked with a sheet over his body. Sabeerah
was lying next to him smiling as she rested on her elbow, while with the other hand she drew circles on his chest.

“I knew you loved me,” she whispered. Trae tried to sit up, but flopped back down. “It will wear off. It’s an old Haitian
remedy. The only side effect is a light headache but other than that you’ll be okay in a few.”

“Fuck,” he spat. He sat up successfully this time and swung his legs around so that he was sitting on the side of the bed.

“You were great. Even though the dick was only half hard. I came
all
night. I really needed that. Let’s hope we made us a baby.”

“A baby?” He turned around and started choking her. She gasped, fought and tried to scratch him off of her. Right before she
was about to pass out, he caught a glimpse of the drawing on the nightstand next to the bed. That’s when he let her go.

“What the fuck is this?” He got up off the bed and picked up the drawing. It was a sketch of him looking up at her as she
stood on the balcony. “You bitch.” He looked over at her. “You still got a copy of the tape?” She was still coughing but managed
to shake her head.

“Why the fuck did you draw this then?”

“It’s… what… I do,” she gasped.

“Where are my fuckin’ clothes?”
My burner?
He began looking around the room. His gun was lying on top of the television. There were several other pictures of him on
the wall. He was snatching them down. When she handed him his clothes, he smacked the shit out of her, causing her to flop
across the bed. She cried as she watched him get dressed. He snatched up his burner and stuck it in his waistband.

Then he dumped out a box and put every sketch of himself he could find in it.

“Don’t take my favorite one,” she pleaded.

“Any more pictures of me and my family around here?” She obediently got up and opened a drawer and gave him three more. “Bitch,
you are sick. So you knew who the fuck I was all this time?” he asked in disbelief. “What’s stopping me from snapping your
neck right now?”

“You’re not sure if I have another tape of you,” she said as she backed up into a corner.

He stood over her, debating whether to take her out now or wait. Deciding on right now he called Rick. Rick owed him one and
he needed him to wipe clean his mess.

Rick had Kyra’s back against the door in his bedroom. Her legs were wrapped tight around his waist and she was riding his
dick as if it were the end of the world. She had sneaked out of the house, leaving Aisha with Marvin. Somebody was blowing
Rick’s phone up and it was pissing Kyra off, she was seconds away from busting another nut when he stopped grinding into her
pussy.

“Ungggghhh,” she groaned. Holding on to him tighter.

“Duty calls, baby. Give me a minute. Yeah,” Rick screamed into the phone. “Who is this?”

“I need something handled, now.”

He recognized Trae’s voice. “Now? I’m in the middle of something. I can’t get free for another hour.”

“Yo, I need something cleaned up.”

Rick was silent. “Damn, man. Tonight of all nights?” Rick spat as he looked into Kyra’s eyes. He was feeling the shit out
of her.

“Nigga, I didn’t say that to you when them niggas was getting ready to bust you a new asshole.” Rick closed his eyes as Kyra
nibbled on his ear and was clenching her pussy muscles around his pole.

“Okay, okay, give me the address.” Rick gave in.

Trae gave him the info and hung up. He looked over at Sabeerah, who was still cowering in the corner.

He pulled out his burner and mashed it against her temple. “I’ma ask you one time. How many copies of that tape do you have?”
Sabeerah started screaming and he hit her in the head. “Bitch, I asked you how many?”

“It’s just one. Please. Please don’t shoot me,” she pleaded.

“Then where is the tape?”

She jumped up and ran to her closet. She frantically pulled out boxes until she got to the red one. She tore it open, rummaged
through it and held it out for him. He punched her in the face, causing her to fall backwards onto the bed. He tossed his
gun to the side, snatched up a pillow and did his damnedest to smother her to death. She fought violently as she tried to
breathe. Her arms and legs flapped wildy. “Crazy bitch!” he spat as he raised up the pillow. He tossed it to the side, revealing
a dead Sabeerah with a shocked expression on her motionless face.

He threw the tape into the box along with the drawings and went into the living room. He lit a blunt and waited for Rick.

By the time Rick got there and cleaned up Trae’s mess and Trae got in his Maybach the clock read five-twenty a.m. “Shit.”
He had just gotten back tight with Tasha and now this shit had happened. “Why the fuck is all this bad karma coming my way
all at once?” he asked himself out loud.

When he finally pulled up into the driveway, it was a little after six in the morning. Tasha was sitting on the porch swing.
Caliph was asleep in her lap. She had a blanket over him.

When his foot touched the steps Tasha said, “That must have been a baaaad bitch to keep you out all night and make you not
answer my calls.”

“Shit,” he gritted.

“Just so you’ll know. Two can play this game.”

“Tasha, it’s not what you think,” was all he could tell her.
Shit
. He wondered what else he could possibly say. She didn’t even know about the murder he had done in broad daylight in Jersey.
What could he tell her now? That he was drugged and raped, and then had committed another murder?

Tasha got up with Caliph in her arms and left him on the front porch.

M
arvin was sitting on the edge of the bed pleading his case to Kyra. He didn’t want to go to rehab and he definitely didn’t
want to lose his family.

Kyra had all of the windows open and was busily going about cleaning up and rearranging the bedroom. She was vacuuming and
dusting as if Marvin weren’t sitting there.

“Kyra, are you even listening to me?”

“Marvin, just because you have been sitting around the house for the past three days don’t mean shit to me. My ultimatum still
stands. And the deadline came and went. Either let me check you in tomorrow or I will begin packing me and Aisha’s bags. Now
move, Marvin, you’ve been in my way all morning.”

He stood up reluctantly. “I’m clean, baby girl, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Marvin, you’ve been sitting around the house for three days. So what? Tomorrow or else! Now this conversation is no longer
open for discussion.”

“Baby.”

“Marvin!” she snapped.

“Okay, okay, but at least let me be here for my daughter’s birthday party Sunday. Baby, don’t make me miss that. I can go
check in the next day,” he pleaded.

“I’ll think about that. But in the meantime the grass needs to be cut and get the pool cleaned. And answer the phone, please.
Damn, y’all niggas can act like kids sometimes,” she mumbled to herself.

He glanced at the caller ID and handed her the phone. “It’s Tasha.”

“Marvin, tell Aisha I said to put some clothes on, cut that TV off, and help around the house or help you cut the grass. What’s
up, girl?” she spoke into the phone, not skipping a beat.

“I don’t know,” Tasha mumbled through tears. “I don’t know what to do, Kyra. I do know that I can’t allow him to walk all
over me and not do anything. I ain’t built like that.”

“What happened? What are you talking about?” Kyra asked.

“I can’t even figure out what happened to us. Now he’s staying out all night,” she sobbed. “And he had scratches on him.”

“Aww, man, Trae. What was his excuse for staying out all night?”

“He said it was some business and shit went bad and because it did, he has to go to New York for a couple of days.”

“Why does he have to go up there?”

“I don’t know. And honestly I don’t want to know.”

“So that’s all he said? What was your reaction?”

“He tried to talk me into coming and getting in the shower with him.”

“Did you?”

“I told him that he knows that I know that he already showered at the bitch’s house. I said, you done fucked some other bitch
all night and now you think you’re going to come home and fuck me?”

“So what happened next?”

Tasha sucked her teeth. “He made me get in the shower with him and afterwards he fucked me until I fainted. When I got up
I fixed him breakfast.”

Kyra giggled. “Stupid bitch. You
showed
him didn’t you?” she teased.

“Kyra, I’m serious.”

“Tasha, your ass wasn’t mad last night, so why are you bitchin’ now?”

“Oh, I’m mad as hell. His ass is going to feel exactly what I felt as I sat on that fucking swing all night. I would have
never thought I would see the day a Chinese bitch could come steal my shine. It must be the money. Trae has become obsessed
with stacking his dough.”

“When is he leaving?”

“I’m taking him to the airport in a few.”

“Mmm-umm, umph. I don’t know what to say about you two.”

“Mommy, we ready.” Kareem came barging into her bedroom, followed by Shaheem, Caliph and then Trae.

“I’ll talk to you later, Kyra.”

“I’m sure you will.” Kyra hung up.

“You packed my bag, right?” Trae asked.

“It’s right there, Trae.” She pointed to the bag by the closet.

He noticed that her eyes were puffy as she walked past him, headed for the bathroom.

“I’ll be ready in a few minutes,” she told him as she shut the bathroom door.

Trae looked at the bathroom door, back at the kids and back at the bathroom door. He turned on the TV. “I need for y’all to
sit here and watch TV while I talk to Mommy. Okay?”

“I’m ready to go,” Shaheem whined.

“We’re going to go after I talk to Mommy. Stay here and don’t get up,” he warned.

“Yes, Daddy.”

When he opened the bathroom door Tasha was standing at the sink dabbing her face. He closed the bathroom door behind him.

“Give me a minute, Trae.”

“Why are you crying, Tasha?” She wouldn’t say anything. “Tasha, I asked you why are you crying?”

“Because.”

“Because what?”

“We are not the same. It’s not the same with us anymore. That magic that we had is gone.”

Trae stepped up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “What do you mean the magic is gone? Tasha, you know I love
you with every breath I take and even when I stop breathing, I’ma love you,” Trae told her as he tried not to get choked up.