Whos Loving You (20 page)

T
he world, my world, couldn’t possibly get any smaller. I hadn’t seen Pretty Ricky in years. Funny how time brought about a change. Pretty Ricky had never imagined he’d be running scared from me. After my return to Vegas as a cop, he’d successfully managed to stay out of my way. Seeing him and recalling how he’d abused me made me angry, but seeing him run made me smile on the inside. I held the power over him, and he knew it. I wished I had that kind of control over Grant.

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t have shown up at this casino, but I wanted a different venue, a place where I could relax and feel like I wasn’t in work mode. I was glad I’d gotten the money back from Summer. For the love of money, Valentino would come running to me. Valentino loved money more than Summer, more than life. Any man that would kill for money would also die for money. For Valentino, which one would it be? There was no way I could ever kill all the pimps or save all the prostitutes, and honestly, I’d gotten tired of trying to help people who didn’t want my help.

Prostitution for some women was a preferred way to make a living. Wasn’t as though they couldn’t go out and get a respectable job. Prostitution wasn’t a living; it was an addictive lifestyle that endured because of the possibility of making a fast dollar—by the minute, not the hour—by making a man cum quickly. Virtually a same time exchange of money and the blow job was done. Wanna cum again?

Got more money?

Tonight I had no desire to arrest or shoot anyone. I’d simply planned to have a few drinks while reflecting on my life. I had to uncover the real reason I was unhappy. Why did I want Grant to make me happier than I made myself?

“I know you don’t know me,” Red Velvet said. “But you do know the person I want to introduce to you. Come upstairs with me for a minute.”

Was this overly hyper woman deranged? She’d just finished talking to Pretty Ricky. I knew why he’d left abruptly, but was Red Velvet one of his new girls? Why did she offer to buy me a drink? Now she wanted me to go upstairs with her. Where? “Why don’t you have your people come down here? I’ll wait.”

“I tried. She doesn’t want to. But you have to go up with me. Okay. I’ll let you hold my purse with my money and my identification just to prove I’m being honest.”

I took her purse, handed it to the bartender, then said, “Hold this until I get back.”

Red Velvet protested. “I don’t know him. You can’t give my purse to him to hold. I gave it to you.”

Opening my hand, I wiggled my fingers at the bartender. “Give it back,” I said. After handing Red Velvet the purse, I sat on the stool and continued sipping my drink.

Red Velvet opened her purse, stuffed her money in her halter, and tossed her purse on the bar. “You’d better not open my purse, or I’ma beat your ass when I get back, you hear me?” She looked at me, then said, “Let’s go.”

She could be my replacement. That was if she wasn’t afraid to kill. I had to have lost my damn mind. Why was I following this lunatic, big-booty chick to the elevator? Obviously, she didn’t really know who she was dealing with. If I decided to shoot her, I would pull my gun from between my titties and pow! I didn’t care how beautiful she was. I’d let her have it. I relaxed. What was the worst that could happen? I was inside the most secure hotel on the Strip. Even on the sixtieth floor, security observed everything.

“Step back,” Red Velvet told me as she tapped on the door. “Open up. It’s me, Velvet.”

The door opened a crack, and I heard a man’s voice. “What is it? Do you need more money?”

My heart stopped; my jaw dropped. I couldn’t see his face, but I’d recognize Grant’s voice anywhere.

“No, I need to talk to Honey,” Velvet insisted.

He said, “Honey went to sleep.”

“No, she didn’t,” Red Velvet said. “She just texted me to come upstairs. Let me in.” She motioned for me to come in, too.

Once I was inside the hotel room, my eyes widened. Honey’s eyes widened. We stood across the room from one another. This was the first time we’d seen one another since the day I’d given her the fifty million.

“Is this who you met at the bar?” Honey coyly asked Red Velvet. “How? Did you go looking for her? I didn’t ask you to do this, now did I?”

“No, she didn’t come looking for me, and I wasn’t looking for her. I don’t even know her,” I said in Red Velvet’s defense. Looking at Grant as he walked away without seeing me, I asked, “Why does she want us to meet?”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Grant was fuck-tas-tic. My eyes lingered on his back as he disappeared into the bathroom. I couldn’t believe my ears. Was Honey pissed off with Red Velvet for bringing me to her room?

Honey smiled at me. “Come sit on the sofa for a minute. We have a lot to talk about.”

“We sure do,” I said, sitting across from her and wedging my back into the side of the sofa. I heard the shower going. I pictured the day Grant and I were in the shower. I relived how I’d dropped to my knees and sucked his big, beautiful dick. I wished I could go get in that shower with him right now and leave Honey and Red Velvet where they were. Why shouldn’t I get up and go in the bathroom with Grant, instead of looking at Honey, who was sitting across from me, with his pajama shirt on. It would be nice to feel Grant inside of me again.

“Have a seat,” Honey said to Red Velvet, motioning toward the chair across the room. Ignoring Honey, Red Velvet stood by the window.

Biting my bottom lip, I wasn’t amused with Honey’s attempt to control the tempo. Seriously, I asked her, “Where’s my money?”

“I’m not playing games with you, Tiffany,” said Honey. “You were the one who came to me, offering the money and claiming you wanted to help. I didn’t solicit it in any way. Stop acting like you didn’t give me that money. And this is the last time I’m having this conversation with you. I don’t know what made you change your mind, but I’m not giving it back. Read my lips. I am not giving the money back, not one penny.” Honey reached into her purse.

I reached into my bra.

“Here.” Honey handed me a folded piece of paper.

Whew.
She almost got shot in the head on that one. Then I could have had Grant to myself.

“This is why Velvet invited you up,” said Honey.

Maybe I should shoot her. Glancing at the paper, I became speechless. Tears flooded my eyes. It was hard to swallow the lump in my throat. “Where’d you get this?”

Red Velvet stood quietly, gazing out the window.

“Your mother gave it to me,” Honey said softly.

“My mother? Yeah, right! How would you know my mother?” I said.

“I don’t,” Honey said.

Sadly, Velvet said, “Honey was looking for my son’s father. He just so happened to be married to your mother.” She never stopped staring out the window.

I asked Red Velvet, “You know Alphonso? How?”

Red Velvet kept staring out the window. “He raped me. I got pregnant. Had a baby. And he’s the father. I really don’t know him, but I do hate him. Men are fucking irresponsible liars who will say whatever to fuck whomever they want. Dirty old bastard. When they finish cuming, they act like it’s all our fault, like we got pregnant on our own, or we tricked them. And the reality is, whether what happened to me is my fault or not, I’m the one stuck with the responsibility of raising Ronnie. I don’t know what I’d do without my mother. Sometimes I wanna die so I don’t have to work so hard. Alphonso is the lucky one. He doesn’t have to do shit! He hasn’t served time in jail. He has not even paid child support. I haven’t figured out how to explain this to Ronnie. Maybe he’s better off not knowing.”

“He raped me, too,” I said. “Every day he came to my room, and he raped me.” I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t hold back the tears. This was the strangest thing that had ever happened to me.

Never did I think I’d meet a woman that Alphonso had raped. And she had his baby. There was something sad underneath Red Velvet’s words, the same type of sadness that plagued me. I didn’t know how to rid myself of the stigma. Red Velvet kept staring out the window.

“I’m going to kill him,” I said.

“What good would that do?” Red Velvet asked, still staring out the window.

Honey answered, “He won’t stick his dead dick in another woman without her permission, that’s for sure. I’ll help you kill his ass.”

“I got a mama and a baby to take care of,” said Red Velvet. “Otherwise, I would’ve shot that sorry motherfucker the day I found out I was pregnant. That’s how I felt. Still do. I just can’t do it.”

Honey scooted closer to me. “It’s okay. Both of you have to move past that. Tiffany, your mother told us she’s looked for you every day. She never stopped. You have to call her. You can have the same loving relationship with your mother that Velvet has with her mother. But I have to warn you. When we left your mother’s house yesterday, we heard screams. We don’t know if she was kicking Alphonso’s ass or if he was beating hers, but I did call in a two seventeen.”

Damn. Honey had love like that? For me? I had to leave tonight for Los Angeles. What I needed was…

The bathroom door opened. Grant entered the living area, dressed in a silk pajama bottom. When he saw me sitting on the sofa, next to Honey, and staring at his dick, he froze. He probably was having a
Fatal Attraction
flashback and thinking I was scheming against him. I knew how much he loved Honey. And I wasn’t trying to put him in a compromising position, but I needed him to hold me. Standing up, I walked toward Grant. He shook his head, then said in a normal tone, “Don’t do it, Velvet.”

Turning toward the window, I saw that Red Velvet was sitting on the ledge, with her feet dangling out the open window. I didn’t know what made me want to push her off the ledge instead of pull her in. Yes, I did. I wanted Grant to hold me, not her, in his arms.

Honey was faster than Grant. She hugged Red Velvet’s waist and pulled her inside and to the floor. I hugged Grant, then said, “You saved her life. Mine too. Thank you.”

“What? Y’all thought I was going to jump? Please! Not over some shiftless nigga. Y’all were acting all depressed and stuff. I was watching the fireworks,” Red Velvet said, smiling. “I’m tired of crying over what happened to me. I was imagining the fireworks were for me. I imagined I’d gotten that call I’ve been waiting for. ‘Red Velvet, we’re calling to offer you the role of Coco Brown in
Something on the Side
.’ My first leading role in a movie, and the stars bursting in the air were all for me. I was pretending I was on the red carpet, smiling for the cameras like Jennifer Hudson, taking pictures, giving interviews, sitting on stage with Oprah. Y’all sure know how to mess up a girl’s fantasy. Let me go. I’m going to my room.” Red Velvet stood up, then walked to the door. She squeezed Grant’s butt, then said, “Good night.”

What the hell? I stopped hugging Grant and looked at him. Why had Velvet done that to Grant? I made my way to the door, too. I said, “Thanks, Honey.” Then I walked up to Grant and said, “I’m Tiffany, and you are?”

Grant pivoted, with his back to Honey, so she couldn’t see his face. He closed his eyes, opened them, shook his head, then said, “Grant. Pleased to meet you, Tiffany.”

I couldn’t resist. I hugged him again. I nestled my cheek on his bare chest, softly kissed his nipple, then quietly left. I wished I knew what room Red Velvet had disappeared into so I could thank her and confront her. I needed to talk with her to find out more about her encounter with Alphonso. More important, I wanted to know why she’d squeezed Grant’s ass in front of Honey and me.

Waiting for the elevator, I wasn’t sure what to do next. But I was happy to learn that after all these years, my mama hadn’t given up looking for me. Maybe nobody else loved me, but I now knew without a doubt that my mother did. Her search was over.

Tiffany Davis, who had been missing for fourteen years, was going home. I prayed that Grant was right. Maybe now I could find true happiness within myself.

A
nigga didn’t have a choice.

What the fuck was I gonna do with less than two thousand dollars to my name? That was all I had after stopping at the pawnshop and spending ten fucking grand on a round-cut solitaire. The five carats were worth every penny. I’d heard that when niggas bought marquis diamonds for their fiancées, the marriage didn’t last worth a shit, but when they bought the round rock, the shit was like infinity, solid forever. Unless Summer died or was killed, I was getting married one time.

I’d put Benito on hold last night, put his ass up in a cheap motel, and left. First off, I’d never sleep in a two-star hotel. And it was best that I took my horny ass home to blast inside my girl this heavy load weighing down my nuts. The thought of fucking Benito didn’t empower me; that shit scared me, because fucking him would’ve been the same as fucking a bitch. As soon as I married Summer, I was out…on my way to Atlanta in this Bentley to collect my fuckin’ money from Lace.

I parked in the driveway at my house, walked up to the front door. Quietly, I slid my key in the lock, but it wouldn’t turn. I took the key out, put it back in, and tried that shit again, and it still didn’t work. I speed dialed Summer’s home number, and the bitch was temporarily suspended. Not the home phone, but the fuckin’ cell phone she’d given me. I knew money wasn’t the issue. That bitch was trying to control me? With a damn phone? I hurled that motherfucker like a football into the middle of the street and started banging on the door.

“Summer! Summer, you hear me, bitch! Open this fuckin’ door!” I yelled, trying to knock the door in. I didn’t give a fuck if her nosy-ass neighbors across the street did call the fuckin’ cops. Disturbing their motherfuckin’ peace was the least of my concerns.

“Summer said to tell you she left you a note,” a lady yelled from next door. “It’s in the mailbox!” Then she shut her door.

I walked to the edge of the driveway, opened the mailbox. “Well, I’ll be damned. A fuckin’ note addressed to me in my own mailbox. What will this bitch think of next? Why didn’t her ass just send me a homing pigeon?”

Stuffing the note in my pocket, I got back in my Bentley and took off. “Bitch!” I yelled. I’d spent ten grand that I couldn’t get back on that fuckin’ ring. That left me with seventeen hundred after breaking off Benito’s broke ass. What the hell was I gonna do with that? Wipe my asshole? I tried to calm down. I hadn’t read the note yet. Maybe she’s at the chapel. “Yeah, that’s it. Why hadn’t I thought about that?”

I changed my course and drove to Chapel of the Bells. After parking in the small lot, I went inside. A woman was standing at the altar. Her back was to me. The dress was white, some bland shit that Summer would wear. The veil covered her face. I straightened out my tuxedo as I approached her. Slowly she turned around. Lifting the veil, I uncovered her face, then exhaled. “Summer, baby. Why didn’t you wait for me? Where’s my son?”

Summer opened her mouth and said, “Summer is dead, motherfucker!” I didn’t know who that possessed bitch was who was cocking a Beretta double-action semiautomatic pistol and pointing it at my face.

“Oh fuck!” I yelled. Of all the fuckin’ times for a nigga to trip. I fell straight on my ass, shielding my face with my hands.

“You shot my sister in the head at point-blank range. Summer is dead. I’m Sunny. How does it feel having a gun in your face, Mr. Badd Ass? Huh? Exploiting women. Making money off of women’s pussies while you sit on your dick! I should put your fuckin’ ass on a stroll. Make you suck a couple of dicks and take it in the ass. The money is not yours! The money is not yours! It’s not yours! None of it belongs to you!”

She pressed the barrel hard against my temple. The same way I’d done to Sunny. But I didn’t pull the fuckin’ trigger. She did. Sunny killed herself. I swear. “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot me! I didn’t mean it! It was an accident! I swear!” I yelled, scurrying backward on the floor, wishing I had picked up Benito before coming to the chapel. That nigga was a guaranteed fuckin’ distraction.

I felt a tender hand nudging me in the side, and I heard a sweet voice in my ear. “What was an accident? Wake up, baby. Wake up.”

My chest heaved. I was drenched in sweat. My body was freezing cold. I looked at the woman in the bed with me and screamed, “Bitch, who are you?”

Reaching for me, she said, “It’s me, Summer.”

I pushed her arms away; I didn’t want that bitch touching me. “Prove it. Prove that you’re not Sunny. Tell me something only Summer would know,” I said, sniffing the bedroom air. “What’s that fuckin’ smell? Damn! Damn! Damn!” I was losing my fuckin’ mind.

Summer shook her head. “That’s frankincense. My mother told me to burn it to rid the house of evil spirits. Anthony, are you evil? Who was haunting you in your sleep? Was it my sister? You did kill Sunny, didn’t you?” Summer asked me these questions like she was fuckin’ working for Dr. Phil.

I got out of the bed, got on my knees, and lift the covers. I didn’t see anyone under there. I frisked Summer’s body for wires, then ripped off her gown. Was Summer trying to get a confession from me? “Bitch, you setting me up again?”

Scrambling out of the bed, Summer said, “Anthony, I have no reason to set you up. Besides, if you didn’t kill my sister, you have nothing to worry about. Was Sunny haunting you?” Summer stood on the opposite side of the bed.

I sat on the edge of the bed, out of her reach. Trying to calm down, I said, “Nah, nah. Just some shit that happened in prison. Nothing I want to talk about. I’ll be okay.” As soon as I got the fuck outta this haunted house and away from this possessed bitch.

“Is that why we had to wait to make love? Did some man violate you while you were incarcerated?” Summer asked, sounding like Barbara fuckin’ Walters.

“Who the fuck are you!” I screamed, covering my ears. “No, nobody touched me.” That answer was…false. What did this bitch think we were doing? Playing
The Moment of Truth?
“Look, stay the fuck away from me. I’m going to shower and put on my tux,” I said, going into the bathroom.

“Okay,” Summer said. Then she started singing, “Going to the chapel, and we’re gonna get ma-a-a-ried.” She danced her way into the bathroom with me. “I’m going to get ready, too.”

“I’ll use the other bathroom,” I said, not wanting to be in the same space with her cheery, spooky ass.

I wasn’t sure if I should leave or follow through with our plans or kill Summer. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about whether she was Sunny or not. They’d both be dead. I was tripping over my own guilt. I decided to go ahead and marry my girl.

I went into Anthony’s room, woke him up. “It’s time to get ready to be a family, li’l man,” I told him.

“Daddy?” Anthony said, sitting up in his superhero pajamas.

I was changing his room and his wardrobe when I got back. I didn’t believe in all this false sense of heroic power.

“Yeah, man. What’s on your mind?”

“Do you love us?” he asked.

His question caught me off guard. “Of course. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be here.”

Anthony hugged my neck super tight. “I love you, too, Daddy.”

This li’l nigga was making me tear up. “Let’s get ready. We don’t want your mother to get upset.”

I took Anthony into the shower with me in case that demonic bitch planned on resurfacing in the mirror like Candyman. We showered together. Summer came busting into our bathroom.

“I was looking all over for Anthony! Why do you have him in the shower with you?” she asked, snatching open the shower door. “Come with Mommy, baby,” she said, leading Anthony out of the bathroom.

Damn. Who in the fuck did she think I was? Did she think I was going to fuck my own seed? Summer’s paranoia and shit were getting old real quick.

I dried off, then slipped into my monkey-ass tux. Summer looked great in her white, ankle-length dress, but she looked more like a Muslim than a bride with her veil, which covered her head while revealing her face. In a few hours all of this shit would be a done deal. I checked my pockets to make sure I had my house keys, car keys, and driver’s license.

“Let’s go,” I said. I went to pick up Anthony. I pulled back when Summer’s lips tightened. “Are you sure you want to marry
me
?”

“Yes, don’t be silly. I love you,” she said, getting in the car.

Driving to the chapel, I reminded myself that our getting married was a straight convenience. I knew what I wanted. Financial security, a woman to love me, and a safe, quiet place to sleep at night. I was clueless about what Summer wanted from me, but she was up to something.

Parking in the lot in front of the chapel, I got out of the car. Summer just sat there, and Anthony remained in the backseat, behind her. If she didn’t let my son grow up to be a man, he’d sit behind every woman he met. What was her problem? Why was she motioning for me to come to her?

“What is it? You changed your mind?” I asked her through the cracked window.

“No, silly.” She smiled. “You’re supposed to open the car door for us.”

Damn. A nigga wasn’t no slave and shit. All this female liberation and she expected me to open the car door. Who opened her damn door before I came home? I pulled the handle on her door first, then Anthony’s. He actually needed me to let him out, ’cause the child safety lock was on.

“Daddy, I’m your best man today,” Anthony said, with his chest stuck out.

“You’re my best man every day,” I told him. I meant that shit. I didn’t have any best buddies, brothers, or sisters. It was just me.

Summer held her stomach.

“What? What’s wrong?” I asked, staring at her stomach.

“Nothing. I’m good,” she said, walking inside the chapel.

What if her twins weren’t mine? I was not raising some other nigga’s kids. First we signed a few papers, then we made our way to the altar, and Summer pulled that veil over her fuckin’ face. She knew I had just had that damn nightmare. Actually, she didn’t know it had been about her sister. I’d lied to her.

I took a deep breath. We exchanged vows. The reverend said, “You may kiss the bride.”

I was not lifting that veil over Summer’s face until she said something. Summer removed the veil, and I exhaled. “Thank, god,” I murmured, then gave her a peck on the lips.

Before getting back in the car, I opened her car door, then Anthony’s door. Then I drove Summer straight to the bank at ten in the morning.

“Baby, why are we here?” Summer asked.

“I got some things to take care of, and I spent all the money I had yesterday on your ring.” I went to pull the ten-million-dollar cashier’s check from my tuxedo jacket pocket. “Where is it?” I turned every pocket inside out. “Where the fuck is it? Summer, where is the check?”

Summer’s eyebrows lifted. “What check? Oh, you mean that check. Sapphire stopped by, asking for it, so I gave it back to her. She said we would’ve gone to jail if we’d deposited it.”

I did a three-sixty in the middle of the bank parking lot. “You did what! You searching through my shit? Are you fuckin’ retarded?” I yelled, wanting to go off on her.

“And so? You found the key to my safe, and you went in it without my consent and took the check.”

“You gon’ give me my money. All of it!” I bellowed. “I want you to add my name to your bank account right now.”

A woman came out to our car and knocked on the passenger window. “Ms. Day, are you okay? Do you need assistance?”

“No, bitch. She does not need assistance,” I yelled. “If you’re the fuckin’ wizard, give this bitch a brain.”

“I’m calling the police,” the woman said.

“It’s okay. We’ll be fine,” Summer reassured her.

“And she’s not Ms. Day. She’s Mrs. James to you, bitch,” I yelled. “Don’t you see me in this monkey suit?”

“Anthony, you’re embarrassing us,” said Summer. “Look at your son sitting back there and hiding on the floor. Is this the type of role model you want to be for him? That’s not nice.”

I swear, I wanted to cry. I sat there, shaking my head.

“Why don’t I get you a cashier’s check, and you can open your own account?” said Summer.

I’d been expecting more of a protest, but Summer went inside the bank with me, went into the merchant room, and came out with a cashier’s check for one hundred thousand dollars made payable to me. She handed it to me and went back to the car with our son.

I wanted to complain about the amount, but it would do for now. However, she was not putting me on no fucking allowance. When I opened up my account, they put the whole fucking cashier’s check on hold.

“Wait one damn minute,” I told the teller. “Go get your boss. I need some money now.”

The manager came over and stood there explaining the matter to me like she was talking to my son. “Mr. James, this is an astronomical amount of money,” she said.

No, bitch, ten million is astronomical, not this measly amount,
I thought.

“And your account is new,” she argued. “It’ll take fifteen business days for us to release the funds. If the check clears, the full amount will be available to you.”

“Bitch, it’s a fuckin’ cashier’s check!” I wailed. “The same as cash! Drawn against your fuckin’ bank.”

“Not all cashier’s checks are honored, Mr. James.”

“Ain’t this a bitch? That’s bullshit, and you know it!”

“Is there anything else we can do to assist you? If not, do have a good day,” she said, walking away before I answered.

Fuck this!
All I had was seventeen hundred dollars for fifteen fuckin’ days. I got in the car, drove Summer and Anthony home, and sat on the couch, in my tuxedo, until I could figure out my next move.