Charge It To The Game (7 page)

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Authors: Tonya Blount,Blake Karrington

BOOK: Charge It To The Game
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Chapter 8

Since Miss LT had died, I had trouble sleeping. Although I was grateful that I had the chance to say goodbye, I still felt like I had been cheated. I felt so empty inside. Every night I laid in the bed waiting for her energy to return-anything I just wanted to feel her presence, but I didn‘t.

―What you gonna do today?‖ Taj asked.

―I don‘t know. I‘m probably gonna meet Black later on. He got some work for me.‖
―That‘s good, ma. You back on the grind. That‘s what‘s up.‖
―I guess. What are you gonna do?‖

―Well, you know, I gotta meet dude and pick up this paper. Then I‘m gonna go check on a few things at the club. Why? You wanna do something later on?‖

―Well, I‘ m hanging out with Pam and the girls later on tonight. They trying to shake off this funk I‘ve been in and shit. I was thinking about doing some Christmas shopping later.‖

―Christmas shopping? Not you. You hate Christmas.‖

―Yeah, I know. But I know it‘s a big deal for you…so I want to try and get into…for you.‖
―Uh…A‘ight, we can do that,‖ Taj agreed and returned a
smile.
―What time you gonna be back?‖
―I should be back about two or
three.‖ ―Taj that‘s so late to start
shopping.‖ ―No, it‘s not.‖
―Yes, it is. You know I need about six to seven hours.‖
―So what you wanna do? You wanna go tomorrow instead?‖
Running my hands through my hair, I answered, ―I gotta get my hair done tomorrow.‖
―Ain‘t nothing wrong with your hair. Didn‘t you just get it done? I mean, you can wait one more day and get it done on Monday.‖
―You know Raphael is not open on Mondays.‖
―A‘ight. I‘ll try and be back about one. Just make sure you ready.‖
I walked over and kissed him. ―Thank you.‖
―Um, hum. You can show me how grateful you are tonight. You know a nigga been feeling a little deprived lately.‖
―I promise I‘ma hook you up, boo.‖
Taj squeezed my butt. ―You know you don‘t need to hang out with Pam and them to shake off your funk…your man can take care of that for you.‖ Then he pointed to his suddenly erect manhood. ―See, look how bad Rock‘s missing you.‖
―Go on and get dress,‖ I chuckled, ―you keep it up and we ain‘t never gonna get to the mall.‖
―I don‘t give a fuck about no mall right now. Storm, I can‘t walk around with my shit like this. Look what you did to me. Yo, you gonna have to do
something
.‖
―I didn‘t do nothing.‖
―Shit, you ain‘t gotta tell me. Come on
now!‖ ―Taj, not right now.‖
Taj grabbed his clothes and went into the guest room to get dressed. I was pushing away the only person left in the world that gave a damn about me. I knew it. Even with Miss LT‘s last words of warning echoing in my ear, I didn‘t know how to stop destroying it.

* * *

After Taj left I turned on the radio and headed in my closet to search for an outfit. Jay Z‘s,
Song Cry
was playing. I immediately thought of Taj. I don‘t know why but Jay reminded me of Taj. Not his looks…‘cause Taj was fioonnne. Maybe it was the gangsta-I‘ma soliderbut I‘m also a rich-no-nonsense-business mothafucka presence that they both seem to have in common.

I picked up the phone to call Taj, but got his voicemail. ―Hey, it‘s me. I really didn‘t want nothing. I just was calling to see if you were all right. Guess I‘ll just talk to you later then. Um…I‘ll see you at one. Love you.‖ I don‘t know why, but I sometimes had a hard time simply saying sorry.

I decided to wear my Dolce & Gabbana jeans with a matching black sweater, and my black Louis Vuitton sneakers with my matching purse. It was 1:30 and Taj had not come back home and he wasn‘t answering my two-way messages nor was he returning my voicemails.

The door bell rang.
Oh, there he is. He must have left his key.
Madison had beat me to the door. ―Move out the way, Madison. Who is it?‖

―It‘s me, Storm. Black.‖

―Black?‖ I asked opening up the door a little disappointed. ―What‘s up? What you doing here?‖
―You told me to come by at one o‘clock.‖

―Oh, shit. Damn. My bad. I totally forgot. Taj and I suppose to be doing a little shopping…it‘s a good thing, he is running late.‖

―Oh, so you goin‘ senile on me now.‖
―Shut-up. Come on in and have a seat. You want something to drink.‖
―Nah, I‘m cool. Can I spark my blunt?‖
―Yeah…matter of fact. Let‘s go in the den.‖
* * *

Black took a seat on the black leather swivel chair. ―Here go the profiles that I want you to check out. My peoples up at BC Health Insurance gave me these. They all A1.‖

―Good. How many is
it?‖ ―Ten.‖
―Ten?‖
―Yeah.‖

―I wanted more than that. I‘m trying to do at least 500Gs for the holidays.‖

―That ain‘t no problem. I can call my connect at the bank and have some more profiles for you tomorrow. What you tryin‘ to do—like 10 more?‖

―Yeah, that should be good,‖ I said anxiously looking at my watch.
―Well, damn, ma, that‘s the third time you looked at your watch in five minutes. What I‘m holding you up or something?‖
―Nah. I told you Taj and I was supposed to be going out and he ain‘t back yet. It‘s not like him to be late.‖
―Call him then.‖

―I did. It‘s going straight into voicemail. You know what…let me try two-waying him again.‖ I began typing:
what’s up? I’m waiting on you.

Fifteen minutes had passed and Taj still had not responded to my message. ―He‘s probably in a bad spot and ain‘t getting no reception,‖ Black tried to reassure.

―For his sake, he better be,‖ I said with an attitude.

My two-way started to ring. The message was from Taj. It read:
Don’t wait. Ain’t shit up…u should know that!
―This nigga is on some real smelly shit right now,
huh?‖ ―What‘s up?‖ Black asked.

―Nothing! Not a mothafuckin‘ thing,‖ Then I threw my twoway across the room. ―Let me get a pull.‖
* * *

By the time Black left it was five o‘clock. Pam had been blowing up my cell phone. I wasn‘t sure if she was looking for work or calling to make plans to hang out. It didn‘t matter though I wasn‘t in the mood to be around her. My mind was steady and heavy on Taj. My emotions were flip flopping out of control. One minute, I was sitting there trying to figure out how to make things better between Taj and me, and the next minute, I was talking myself out of gathering his clothes and throwing it out of the window.

I sat on the sofa flicking through the channels. I had called Taj about fifty times and he wouldn‘t answer any of my calls. Finally, I decided to call Rick and see if he would give me the 411 on Taj.

―Hey, Rick.‖
―What‘s up baby girl?‖
―Nothing, just chilling. Where y‘all
at?‖ ―I‘m at my moms right now.‖
―That‘s nice, you checking out Mom dukes. Where‘s

Taj?‖
―Oh, I dropped him at the club earlier. He said he was
gonna have one of the cats there dropped him home.
Why…you need something?‖
―No. I‘m good.‖
―You sure? You sound like something is wrong.‖

―No, I‘m straight. I‘ ma get ready and do a little shopping.‖
―You need me?‖
―Yeah, matter of fact I do. You feel like it.‖
―Now, Storm you know all you gotta do is say the word. What‘s up with the X5?‖

―Nothing. I just don‘t feel like driving, that‘s all.‖ ―A‘ight. I‘ll be there in about a half hour.‖ ―Thanks, Rick. You can park in one of the guest spots

in my garage and we‘ll take my truck. Just call me when you get downstairs.‖
―Okay, baby girl. See you in a
bit.‖ ―Bye.‖

* * *
When I‘m feeling down, I like to shop. When I don‘t give a fuck, I shop using other peoples information.

Rick called, ―Hey.‖
―You downstairs?‖
―Yeah.‖
―I‘ll be right
down.‖ ―A‘ight.‖
I grabbed my waist length Mink and my Louis

Vuitton purse and headed out the door.
* * *
―Where we going?‖ Rick
asked. ―To the Village.‖

―You shopping in the Village this time of the day?‖ ―No, I gotta get me some IDs.‖ ―Storm! What you doing?‖
―Being grown!‖

―Okay…okay. I ain‘t tryin‘ to have Taj spazzin‘ on me ‗cause I got you out here doing this shit.‖

―Taj ain‘t gonna know shit --unless you tell him. Besides, Storm is grown.‖ Whenever I spoke of myself in third person, anyone close to me knew it wasn‘t worth their time debating with me. ―Storm is doing what she
wants
to do. Taj is obviously doing him. So Storm is about to do her.‖

―Shit, what the fuck have I gotten myself in the middle of,‖ Rick tried to whisper.
* * *

I climbed in my X5 and waited as Rick put the Blarney‘s bags carefully in the trunk.
―Okay, where we heading to now, Storm.‖

I crossed my legs and replied, ―You mean, Ms. Stocker.‖ ―Huh?‖
―Ms. Stocker.‖
Rick released a soft chuckle. ―Girl, you‘re crazy.‖

* * *

It was 8:30 and Taj still had not returned any of my calls. My emotions continued to range back and forth from anger to fear. Finally, anger took control and defined my next move.

―Yo, what‘s up?‖ I asked.
―Hey, girl. I was just getting ready to call you. Why you been ignoring my calls?‖ Pam asked. ―We still hanging out tonight?‖

―Yeah,‖ I answered back. ―That‘s why I‘ m calling you. Where you tryin‘ to hang out at?‖
―I don‘t really care. It‘s on you.‖
After a few moments, I suggested, ―What about Capital City?‖
―Cap City? You never want to hang out at Taj‘s. What‘s up with that?‖

―Ain‘t nothing
up.‖ ―Whatever.‖
―I‘m serious.‖

―Girl, don‘t you know I know you betta than that? Guess you‘ll tell me later then. Anyway, so what time are you gonna be ready?‖

―About twelve.‖
―A‘ight.‖
―I‘ll come and pick you up. Where you gonna be at?‖ ―I‘ma be at my house.‖
―Okay, later.‖
―One.‖

* * *

Harlym, the bouncer escorted Pam and me to the VIP section. 50 cent and his entourage were also in the house. There was a bucket of ice with a bottle of Cristal on each table. Smoke hovered thick over the barricaded VIP area. An array of Vibe, XXL, Black Enterprise, and F.E.D.S. magazines covered the round cocktail tables. DJ Clue was holding it down for the night.

It wasn‘t long before Taj was notified by his staff that I was in the house.

―Hey, what‘s up, Pam?‖ Taj said.
―Hey, Taj…what‘s up?‖ Pam said.
Then Taj walked closer to where I sat and looked at

me. ―Storm.‖

I ignored him and took another pull of the blunt. ―Storm, you hear me talking to you,‖ Taj repeated.
―What?‖

Taj walked over to me until he stood directly in front, then he grabbed my arm. ―Come here.‖

―Get off of me!‖ I said as I struggled to free myself from his hold.
―I said come here!‖

― Who the fuck do you think you are grabbing me in public like that? I ain‘t you damn child, Taj. I done told you that shit before.‖

―Storm, just go see what he want…don‘t try and make no scene,‖ Pam pleaded.

I looked at Pam then turned my attention back to Taj. ―You didn‘t have shit to say to me for the past eight hours, now ‗cause I walk up in
your
club you think you can disrespect me in front of niggas.‖

―You know what…fuck it!‖ Taj said releasing the hold he had on my right arm. ―You so fucking ghetto.‖ Taj angrily walked away.

―What was that all about?‖ Pam inquired.

―I don‘t know.‖
―What do you mean?‖
―I don‘t know what his fucking problem is. I mean,

the nigga got mad ‗cause I ain‘ t give him no pussy this morning and he wouldn‘t take my calls all day. Then when I step up in here, he wanna act like he the man and shit and be salivating all over me…I ain‘t having that. He lucky 50 was up in here or I would really cut the fool. ‗Cause you know Storm don‘t give a gotdamn!‖

Pam was still stuck on the part of me not giving Taj none. ―You mean you ain‘t giving your man none and you don‘t know what‘s wrong with him? Then you roll up in his club half naked and you don‘t know why he‘s heated. Storm you be asking for an ass whipping…for real!‖

―What? This is my shit…if I ain‘t in the mood, I ain‘t in the mood. Hell, it‘s plenty of times I feel like doing shit and he‘s too tired. You don‘t see me walking around with my ass on
my
shoulders.‖

―But Storm you said you ain‘t been in the mood since Miss LT passed away. Girl, that‘s been a minute. You can‘t keep holding out like that.‖

―Who said I can‘t? I‘m grown. I can do what the hell I wanna do. I tell you what though, if he
was
gonna get some…he blew it now, acting like a damn child.‖

―Huh?‖ Pam gave me a look I couldn‘t define…it was a look I had saw once before, but I couldn‘t put my finger on what it was all about. ―Well, you got a man, Storm. I mean he takes care of you…you don‘t have to worry about him cheating and shit-‖

I quickly interrupted Pam. ―What? Bitch, I takes care of me…ain‘t no man doing that! I‘ve been taking care of myself since I was 12 mothafucking years old-‖

―I‘m just saying though...‖
―What you saying? You know what, Pam? For real, for real…I didn‘t ask for your opinion, so you can just keep the shit to yourself.‖

―You know what, Storm?‖
―What?‖ I screamed. ―What?‖
Pam twisted her lips, then snapped. ―Nothing…just

forget it.‖
―Nah, don‘t stop. Say what you gotta
say.‖ Pam remained silent.

―You can get an attitude if you want to. I came out tonight to have a good time.‖ I threw my hands up in the air in frustration. ―I mean damn…you suppose to be lifting a bitch spirits and shit and instead you sitting there clapping and rooting for his ass while he up in here embarrassing me and—‖

―How do you feel that I‘m rooting for
Taj?‖ ―You are.‖

―No, I wasn‘t…Storm you can‘t stand it when somebody pull your coattail when you‘re wrong. You ain‘t always right, you know.‖

―And I didn‘t say I was either. Listen, I‘m through talking about the shit. Leave it alone.‖ Then I picked up my twoway. ―I wonder why Black ain‘t hit me back yet.‖

―I thought you was meeting him earlier today.‖

―I did meet him. He came by the house. But he was suppose to get back to me with some 411 on—Ah…that‘s my jam right there.‖ I said and stood up, closing my eyes and motioning my body to the beat of Beyoncé and JayZ‘s,
Bonnie and Clyde.
After the record was over, I sat down. ―Now I feel bad about arguing with Taj. This joint always make me feel like I wanna fuck all night.‖

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