Bad as in Good (16 page)

“I want you to stay home with me. Tell yo' girl that you made other plans.”

“I can't, Riq.”

I spread her thighs apart and pushed her back against the door. She sucked on her lips, almost sucking off the skin, as she screamed in satisfaction. “Tell her you'll see her tomorrow.”

She nodded as her body shook. “Fine.” I could feel her pelvic muscles tense as her bodily fluids poured out like a waterfall. “I'll stay, Riq.”

I supported her thighs as I led her to our bedroom. She dropped her purse to the floor as I let her collapse on top of our sheets. I passionately reentered her body. She craved more, and her body was openly receptive. I fed her like a starving nation and revitalized our bodies in more ways than one. She cried out in ecstasy while she held me close with her feet and dug her nails into my skin. “You better stay.” I joked as I kissed her repeatedly, ruthlessly commanding her body onto mine.

She gleamed, and when she came again, her body trembled beneath me. I pulled out not, wanting to come yet. I felt the need to punish her body like a criminal. Catching her breath, she said, “I have to run and take a shower. You made me come too much.” Without another word, she grabbed her purse from the floor and ran into the bathroom. When she turned on the shower, I sat up and stared at the bathroom door. Remembering that I hadn't come yet, I walked to the bathroom door. Locked. I jiggled the handle and then banged on the door.

“Simoné, open this door.” Three seconds later, she opened the door naked. Her phone resting on the bathroom sink. I asked, “Why would you lock the door?”

She shrugged her shoulders, “I dunno. I'm sorry. Let's get in the shower so I can make you come. I'll let you get my hair wet this time.”

I wanted more answers, but my throbbing dick needed to come. We got into the shower, and I pinned her underneath the showerhead while thrusting myself inside her from behind. She let the water soak her head while she pushed against the shower walls for support. I held her hips for guidance. When I came, the feelin' was bittersweet. I couldn't shake the sound of her phone vibrating on the bathroom counter. I also couldn't shake the fact that her girl, Yolanda, was usually at work the same time I was at work. I wanted to say something, but Simoné distracted me with her wet breasts and tight pussy. She kept throwing it at me as if to buy herself time. I didn't like it, but my penis fell for her traps every time.

•  •  •

From that day, my mind was buggin'. Simoné would talk, and all I'd hear was her phone vibrating. She'd lie next to me asleep, and I'd ignore the fact that she'd turn it off to make sure it wouldn't ring in the middle of the night. Simoné never really gave me a reason not to trust her, but shit was different. One day when Simoné forgot her phone at home, I contemplated my next move. I thought about how I should approach the circumstance she had put me in. I ain't wanna be that type of dude who went through his girl's phone, but I couldn't go through this again. I wondered what other opportunity would I have. I sat in the living room pretending to watch ESPN, but all I could think about was how her phone vibrated on
our dresser. I took a deep breath and decided to capitalize on my opportunity.

Simoné had a password, but having spent enough time with her, it wasn't hard to crack her code. I typed in “Maxwell,” the name of her favorite singer, and the name of her dog that passed twelve years ago. I was in.

“IS HE HOME?” That was the beginning of their chat log. Her and some nigga named Jamar,
fuckin'
Jamar.

“YEA. HE'S HOME,” she responded.

“FUCK. Y U WIT THAT BITCH NIGGA? U COMIN OVA OR NOT?”

“I NEED AN EXCUSE TO GET OUT.” The way she disregarded his blatant disrespect toward me brought back old memories. According to whoever Simoné was texting, I was a bitch nigga, and she was okay with that.

“FUCK HIM. GET YO ASS OVA HERE. IM TRYNA GET IN THAT PUSSY TONIGHT.” I put the phone down and stared at the front door. I wanted Simoné to come home and answer for this. Luckily, I wasn't in a public place, which meant if I needed to get loud, I had that right.

“I KNOW, BOO. I'M COMIN.” The texts came through today around four in the afternoon. Around that time, Simoné had to run and grab some ice cream from the corner store. Little did I know she was gettin' a different type of dessert.

“HURRY UP,” was the nigga's last text. The nigga that was bold enough to talk shit about me through a damn text message. At the same time, he was the one fuckin' my girl without me knowing. Maybe I
was
the bitch nigga. For some reason, I kept attracting women who felt the need to lie up with some other man behind my back.

When I heard the front door slam shut, I met Simoné in the living room and waved her phone in her direction. When she saw her unlocked phone in my hand, she froze. I expected her to almost shrug it off, accept her defeat, and try to weasel out of it by blaming me. She placed the bag of ice cream on the coffee table and smiled nervously. “What are you doin' wit' my phone?”

“Who the fuck is Jamar?”

All the color in her skin melted. She wiped her bangs from her eyes and sighed heavily. I should've known something was up when she walked out the house to buy ice cream wit' no panties and a sundress, easy and quick access for
fuckin'
Jamar. She spread her lips and sat on our couch. “I'm so sorry, Riq.” Her voice cracked.

I threw her phone at her feet. I wasn't tryna hear it. I gave Simoné the benefit of the doubt and stayed faithful to her against my better judgment. Damien's warnings reverberated in my head as I heard my heart beating through my chest. “I ain't tryna hear yo' fuckin' apologies.”

“I didn't go, Riq.” She stood up and ran up to me, clutching my clothes, trying to force me to notice her and her tearful confessions. “I know what you read, but I didn't go. Nothing happened.”

I pulled away from her and shook my head. “I ain't tryna hear none of this. I need some time to myself.”

“Riq, please. Listen to me.”

“Ain't shit to listen to.” I walked to the front door, but she beat me to it. She wiped the tears from her face and tugged at my belt loops. She gazed into my eyes and pleaded for the chance to speak. I smacked her hands away and stepped back. “What the fuck do you have to say?”

“I know things look bad—I know. But I didn't fuck him. We've been talkin' for a while and—”

“Who's
we?
Who the fuck is Jamar? You still ain't tell me that.”

“He's a friend. I knew him before I even met you. We've always flirted and shit, but we never fucked, at least not while we were together.”

“So you have fucked him?”

“Not when I was wit' you, though, Riq. We've been talkin' and…I should've shut it down, but I didn't. I'm sorry. I dunno what I was thinkin'.”

“Simoné, I ain't no pie-ass nigga, regardless of what yo' man think.”

“He's not my man, Tariq.”

“Whateva. I ain't tryna be that bitch nigga going through my woman's phone, but I ain't got the time to be dealin' wit' bullshit like this. You wanna be with that dude, then cool. You ain't gotta lie to me.”

“But I don't, Riq! I don't wanna be with anyone but you. That's why I didn't fuck him. He was there for me when you weren't and… sometimes I wasn't sure if I could trust you and…”

“You telling me that you fucked some other nigga because you can't trust me? Does that make sense to you?” I jingled my car keys and reached for the door handle.

She pulled my hand away and got in my face. “We never fucked when we were together, Riq. We talked.”

“Simoné…” I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. I needed air, and with her in my face, I was suffocating. I stepped away from her and grabbed the back of my head. “I gotta go. I can't think straight, and ain't shit that you can say right now to calm me down.”

“I want you to believe me, Riq.”

“Simoné, you ain't listening. Ain't shit registering right now. Lemme take a ride somewhere. But I can't stand here and keep listenin' to this shit. How the fuck you goin' tell me how this nigga
was there for you when I'm not? Where the fuck am I that you need to be cryin' on some other man's shoulder? I've been right here, workin' an' doin' shit for us. We've been good; yet, all that I do for you ain't enough. I ain't tryna hear it. I gotta go before I say some real shit that I regret.”

She stood there wanting us to kiss and make up. I wasn't for it. She finally nodded her head and sat down on the couch. I stormed out my front door without looking back. I got in my car and drove. I tried to wipe away any emotion I felt from going through the same type of heartbreak Deja put me through. At least Simoné showed remorse, but in the end, she still blamed her infidelity on me. I wanted things to work out. I hoped that I could stay out the game and prove Damien wrong. But what could I expect? Bitches weren't shit before, an' they ain't shit now. If I'm the nigga makin' these hoes cheat, then I couldn't bother being wit' 'em.

“Something's wrong with me.”

Loraine stared down at her phone and back up at me. “Why do you say that?”

“I'm not into Louis anymore.”

Loraine squeezed her phone in her palm and twirled her dreads. “Why not?” It was two in the morning on a Friday night, and Loraine and I sat at my kitchen table in our sweats trying to play cards. She spent most of the night checking her phone, playing with her hair, and tapping her foot.

I didn't appreciate the split attention I received from her. “What's on your mind?”

Realizing that I caught on to her distraction, she smiled and put her phone down. “I'm sorry, girl. I haven't heard from Teona, and I'm a lil' worried.”

“Usually, you'd be happy not to hear from her.”

Loraine picked her phone back up and scrolled through it. “You know that was all talk. I won't tolerate her nonsense, but I'm always concerned for her safety.”

“You said she needs to spend the night on a cold park bench.”

“That doesn't mean I want her to go missing.” Loraine looked at my phone. “She hasn't contacted you, right?”

“You know if she did, I'd tell you.” I shuffled the cards and dealt them, even though neither one of us was in the mood to play. Accepting the fact that my topic of conversation wasn't as important as hers, I asked, “When's the last time you heard from her?”

“Yesterday afternoon. I dunno what this girl does with her days. She doesn't have a job, and doesn't go to school, but she's gone all day until she drags her drunken ass in from partying on a Tuesday. It's going on two nights I haven't seen her—no one has.” All the random thoughts that ran through my mind had to be going through Loraine's.

I dialed her number, hoping it would be easy enough to get her to answer. Strangely, someone did. “Hello,” I said.

Silence.

Loraine stared between me and the phone. “Is that Teona? Put it on speaker.”

Following her demands, I put the phone on speaker and set it on the coffee table, but there was still white noise. We stared at each other and back down at the phone. “Teona?”

Nothing.

“Is someone there?” Loraine asked. She grabbed my phone and held it close to her as if it were Teona. “Teona, where are you?”

“Who is—” The phone cut off before we could say anything else. Loraine and I stared at the phone as if it were going to grow a mouth and start talking.

“What the fuck was that?” Loraine quickly redialed the number. When it went straight to voicemail after seven more attempts, panic spread. “We need to go.” She gathered her things and headed for my door.

“Where?” I stood up and looked for my purse.

“I dunno, but I'm not staying here. She could be in trouble.”

“You sure your mom hasn't seen her?” When I found my purse, I followed Loraine, who was already down the hallway dialing and redialing Teona's phone.

When we reached my car, we both jumped when the phone rang. We paused, nearly forgetting how modern technology worked. “Hello,” Loraine said. She put the phone on speaker and held her breath.

“Hello…who's this?” the voice asked.

Looking at my caller ID and realizing that it wasn't Teona's number, I quickly asked, “Who's this?”

“Loraine, is that you?”

Loraine grabbed the phone. “Mom?”

“Loraine, where are you?”

“Have you heard back from Teona?”

Loraine's mother sighed loudly. “Yeah…I have. She's here.”

“Here where?”

“Here wit' me. I picked her up from the police station. I'm gonna meet you at your house.”

“The police station? What was she doing there?”

“I'll talk to you when we get there.”
Click.
I could hear the irritation in Loraine's mother's voice, and I could see the aggravation written across Loraine's face. The lines in her forehead had already anticipated a story far worse than we had imagined, only to be side struck by a short call from her distraught mother. She twirled her dreads furiously, switching her loc from one finger to the next in a fast tango while she chewed on her bottom lip.

I would've let her drive home on her own, but she was too beside herself to drive without possibly causing a ten-car pileup. I unlocked my door and waited for her to get in. “Let's get you home.”

She hesitated at first, but she hopped in my car and stared out
my windshield as she continued to play with her hair and bite her lip.

When we reached her home, we were both surprised to see her ex-husband sitting on the doorstep. The sun glared on his bald head as he hid his ashy brown face in his hands. Long, lanky fingers swallowed his elongated face while he sat his bony elbows on his high knees. Loraine's confusion flew into a rage as she jumped out of my car before I even had the chance to come to a complete stop. “What the hell are you doing here?”