God Don't Like Haters 2

God Don’t Like Haters 2

By

Jordan Belcher

Smashwords Edition

Felony Books, a division of Olive Group,
LLC,

P.O. Box 1577, Belton, MO 64012

Copyright © 2015 by Jordan Belcher

Cover Model: Destiny Anderson

Hair Stylist: Stacy Powell

Makeup Artist: Jessica B.

This book is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events or locales or persons living or dead is entirely
coincidental.

All rights reserved, including the right to
reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For
information address Felony Books, P.O. Box 1577, Belton, MO
64012.

For information regarding new and upcoming
titles, please contact Felony Books at
www.felonybooks.com

By

Jordan Belcher

Chapter 1

Kirbie Amor
Capelton

Now wasn't the time to cry. I could barely see the
road because of the rain, and constantly wiping tears from my eyes
wasn't helping one bit.

I was driving my Mercedes-Benz in a downpour,
driving way faster than I should have been according to the
speedometer (me and my lead foot again). But that was the thing
about German aerodynamics—I could go faster and faster and wouldn't
even feel the difference. Testing the car, I pressed harder on the
gas.

I was flying.

My windshield wipers were working
double-time, and so were the tears coming down my
cheeks. 
Why would Archie set me up?
 
I really
thought he loved me. 

The first thing that came to my mind was the
gambling. He must have gotten into some trouble that he didn't want
to let me in on. He hired some people to rob us, maybe to buy some
time to come up with the right amount of money. 
Hey, Mr.
So-and-So, I got robbed, 
I could hear Archie explaining to
whoever he owed. 
Give me some more time to come up with the
cash. No, I really got robbed. I'm serious. They pulled guns on me
and my girl Kirbie.

That was the only reason I could think of
that would explain why I wasn't let in on the fake robbery. He
didn't want me to know he was in trouble again. He didn't want me
to do something stupid again. He knew I would kill whoever he owed.
He knew that. He knew I was his ride-or-die and wouldn't hesitate
to go after whoever he was in debt to.

But he lied to me. And he let another man put
a boot on my face.

I started crying more, feeling like I was
dumb for being so loyal to Archie. But his friends used to call him
dumb for taking me in while I was so young. What kind of woman
would I be if I turned my back on him when he needed my help?

I started to slow down, not feeling so in a
rush to kill Archie now.

My phone rang.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Where the hell are you at, Kirbie?"

Coras Bane. He sounded pissed.

"I'm in traffic," I said. "Why? Am I supposed
to be at the studio?"

"I just got a call from Evan saying my girl
just pulled a gun on him. I ask him 
who
 and this
muthafucka tells me
you
! Did you take that man's phone?"

Shit! I forgot I took Evan's cell from him
in the club.

"Yeah, I got it," I said.

"Why would you do some dumb shit like that? I
know Evan ain't the one that robbed you, is he?"

"No, but—"

"Give me that man's phone so I can give it
back to him. You're lucky he didn't call the police."

"Where are you?" I asked.

"You know where the fuck I am."

He hung up, and I threw the phone in the
passenger seat angrily. I hated that Coras didn't have the
sensitivity or awareness to realize I had been crying. I was
stressed the fuck out and didn't need his ass yelling at me.

But for some reason I needed to be in his
presence right now. In the rain, I turned down 63rd Street and
headed to Gee's studio. I'd deal with Archie afterwards.

***

As soon as I walked down the basement steps into Gee
Beats's in-home studio, I saw Coras standing in the middle of the
room in a tank top and his gold Cuban link chain around his neck.
His tank was partially wet, as if he'd just come out of the rain
too.

Gee Beats was sitting at his work station,
eyes glazed over with inebriation. He nodded hello, I nodded
back.

Coras had his hand out, waiting for me to
hand him the phone. As I neared him, he had a hateful look in his
eyes as if he was about to hit me. I placed the phone in his palm,
expecting him to. Maybe if he put his hands on me I wouldn't be so
damn drawn to him.

"That man called me nearly in tears," Coras
started in on me. "That was some reckless shit you just did. Evan
is a fan of ours. He supports Swope Records. He buys everything we
put out. He even buys weed from me and pills from you. Now what
would possess you to take this man's phone?! That's asinine!"

"You don't know what happened," I stated.

"Tell me then."

"He took a picture of me and wouldn't delete
it."

"So what? He's a fan, Kirbie! That's what
fans do! When you become a celebrity are you gonna be one of the
ones who snatches cameras from paparazzi? You need to be embracing
any and all attention. Or shit, at least wait until you become
famous before you start doing that dumb shit. You're trying to lose
the little bit of buzz you already got."

"I wouldn't have cared if he took the picture
if I wasn't—"

He cut me off. "I know what you were doing in
that club. I told you not to go in the first place. You need to
decide if the streets are more important than the music."

This felt absurd coming from Coras. He was
more street than me, sold way more drugs on average than me and
Archie put together. And that was because he had a different, more
exclusive product than us:
OG Tahoe
. I was finding it real
hypocritical that he was telling me to choose one over the other.
He needed to take his own advice first.

"The reason I was in the club was because of
music," I said, asserting myself. "Those pills I was trying to get
back pay the bills."

"I'll pay your bills," he said.

I blinked. I didn't have an immediate
response to that. But his offer had me feeling warm with excitement
and intimacy. Lately, almost everything he said to me would give me
these pleasant, girlish chills.

Gee Beats broke the silence. "Ay, I got bills
too, my nigga."

We ignored him.

I said to Coras, "I don't need you to pay my
bills. That's not what I stand for. If you ever listened to any of
my songs you would know that I'm independent and I can take care of
myself on my own."

"The music and real life should be two
mutually exclusive things," said Coras. "Is that what you're trying
to do? Live out your lyrics? Music is a muse. Not a life
manual."

I thought of the lyrics he wrote about me on
the song 
Convenient For Me,
 where he spoke of
nearly shooting Archie over me and having sex with me in the
future. Was that just muse?

"The last thing I need is you catching
another case," he went on. "That whole process will put our
movement on hold again. You're not just sabotaging yourself when
you move recklessly. You're sabotaging the whole team—me, Gee, and
Ashleigh." Coras reached out and touched the bottom of my hoodie,
lifting it enough to show my gun tucked in my jeans, which was an
utter invasion of my personal space (but I didn't mind it). He
pointed at the weapon, as if that was the problem. "You need to
retire that thing right there. It's gonna get you in trouble."

"Retire yours," I countered.

"I know how to use mine. I
know 
when
 to use mine. I'm not at clubs pulling it
out on people who support me. Did you at least pull it out on the
right person tonight?"

"Sort of."

"What's that mean?"

I saw Gee Beats turn in his chair to face us.
He took a swig of Hennessey and set it off to the side, then looked
at me intently. He actually rolled a little closer to us. He loved
a good story.

"I followed the guy with the gold teeth into
the men's bathroom," I said. "I pulled my gun out while he was
peeing. But I didn't go through with it."

"Why?" Coras asked.

The feeling of being betrayed started winding
up in me again. I was suddenly hearing Archie's voice through the
robber's phone in that bathroom, and his voice was beginning to mix
with old images of when he first took me off of the streets and
taught me how to hustle. The hurt was unbearable. I felt like he
cheated on me.

I started crying in my palms.

As I cried, my body began to feel too heavy
to hold up. I felt like I was going to fall. But just in time,
Coras stepped forward and took me into his arms. Then I felt Gee's
arms wrap around me too. After a moment of my pity, I heard Coras
whisper to Gee, "Give us a minute, fam." Then Gee was heading
upstairs.

"What's wrong?" Coras asked me.

I was struggling to find words. "I ... I know
who ... set me up. It wasn't a random ... robbery."

"Who set you up, Kirbie?" he asked. Then he
said: "Was it Archie?"

My head jerked up. I was staring him right in
the eyes, shocked.

Coras had a knowing grimace on his face. "It
was Archie, wasn't it? That sounds about right."

"How did you know?"

"That nigga been hating on you since I met
you, Kirbie. I’ve been telling you that for the longest. He wants
to see you lose."

"It's not about him hating on me. He just
needs help. He has a gambling problem and I get caught up in his
schemes—"

"I bet that robbery didn't have anything to
do with gambling. You need to look past your love for him. He set
that robbery up to prevent you from having the money to put into
this music. Every time you're late for the studio you tell me it's
his fault. When is it gonna dawn on you that he's intentionally
trying to crush your dreams?"

I feared Coras was right.

"He loves me, Coras. He brought me up from
nothing. Why would he do that?"

"The same reason any man would if they had an
incredibly talented, good loyal woman like you—it's to ensure that
you never leave him. If you succeed in the music industry, he feels
like he'll have to compete with the successful men you'll end up
being around. He knows you'll leave him when you find out what's
out there. He's insecure. I hate it had to come to this for you to
stop fucking with that nigga."

"I don't know if I can leave him alone," I
muttered.

"What?!"

"I've never been alone before."

I was hoping Coras could read between the
lines. 
Steal me away from Archie! Please, Coras? This is
your chance to steal me. I'm vulnerable.

He said, "I could've sworn you just told me
you’re Ms. Independent. Now you're talking about you don't wanna be
alone?"

I lowered my head and tried to wipe my tears
on my hoodie.

His voice softened. "You'll never be alone,
Kirbie. You got Swope Records. You got me, Gee, and Ashleigh."

I stared at him and sucked my teeth. "Did you
really just say Ashleigh? That bitch hates me."

"No she doesn't. She's just tough on you.
Some people need that tough love, and you're one of 'em. She tells
me all the time how much she sees in you." He saw the doubt on my
face. "I'm serious," he added, and I couldn't tell if he was hiding
a smile or not. "She wants you to win just like she wants me to
win."

Ashleigh, believing in me? C'mon now.
Her being my manager was a joke. 

Behind us, we heard someone coming down the
steps. It was Gee Beats, making a reappearance. "Don't mind me," he
said, as he came over and grabbed his Hennessey bottle. He turned
and went back upstairs.

I pointed after him. "Did that fool just
interrupt us for his damn liquor?"

Coras laughed, then sat down in Gee's swivel
chair. The producer's chair. Coras's smile was weak, as though he
still felt bad for me. "Kirbie, what do I have to do to convince
you to leave that nigga Archie alone?"

I gulped. He was holding his crotch. And he
had on sweatpants so there was an obvious bulge. Is that why he sat
down?

"Tell me what I gotta do and I'll do it. I'll
do anything. You want me to kill him for you?"

I gasped. "No!"

Was he serious?

"I didn't think you would," he said. "And
that's sad to me. Did you listen to the lyrics from my verse on
Convenient For Me?
” I paused. And I must have took too long
to answer because he said, "Don't play wit' me. You heard my shit.
And I heard your shit too. You said you wanted to show me how much
of a freak you can be."