God Don't Like Haters 2 (2 page)

"No, I didn't."

"You did too. Why are we playing games? Do
you want me to play the CD right now for you?"

"It's just music," I said mockingly. "Music
is a muse. It's not reality."

He chuckled. "Sit down, Kirbie." He patted
his thighs. "Come fuck wit' a real nigga one time. Just one time.
C'mere."

My face was pretty dry by now, but I still
wiped away what tears were left with my palms. I sat down in his
lap, more so on the edge of his knee. But he took my waist and
pulled me into him. Now his dick was in my ass practically. I
sighed, as if he was doing too much, but inside I was
thinking, 
Oh my goodness, is this his dick poking me or a
goddamn spare tire?!

"I flirt wit' you, you barely ever flirt back
unless it's on a song," Coras was saying. "We can't keep playing
with each other like this."

"You already have your hands full," I
replied, referring to Monifa and Ashleigh. "And I'm loyal to
Archie."

"Your loyalty should be expired, Kirbie. It's
run its course."

"I owe him."

"I wish I was the one that found you when you
were fourteen. Then I'd have that loyalty. Difference is, I would
know what to do with it. You never cheated on him, have you?"

"No. Can I get up?"

"No. You may not."

His hand caressed my thigh, and I watched his
fingers roam curiously. He was making his way between my legs and I
didn't stop him because I had on jeans and there wasn't much he
could do. But then he rubbed against the mound of my pussy
not-so-gently and I felt a jolt of invasive bliss. Reflexively, I
snapped my thighs closed, trapping his fingers.

"Unhand me, young lady," he said.

"No," I said.

He yanked his hand free and grabbed me by the
neck, forcing me to turn my lips toward his. He stared at me for
several heartbeats, then he kissed me. Instantly I felt fireworks
exploding inside of me.

Our first kiss!
 

But it ended before I got a chance to enjoy
it.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!"

We turned and saw his girlfriend Monifa
Chavis standing at the base of the basement steps. I jumped off of
Coras's lap. A second later Gee was stumbling down the steps with
his bottle, as if he'd tried to prevent Monifa from coming down but
got ran over.

"So this is what the fuck you been doing in
the studio?!" she yelled at Coras. "I knew it! I fuckin' knew
it!"

She frantically started going in her
purse—and my instincts told me she had a gun.

"Monifa, chill!" Coras shouted, springing out
of his seat.

I lifted my hoodie and grabbed my own pistol.
This was about to get ugly …

Chapter 2

La'Renz "Buddy Rough" Taylor

"This is my home," said Sundi.

As she shut the door behind me, I walked
carefully into the living room of her lavish townhome in quiet awe.
Though I wouldn't let my expression show it, I was amazed by the
modern splendor before me. Fine-cut white stone and masterful
exposed brick was the theme. It was spacious and strikingly
well-lit. And there was no sacrifice of taste and culture in the
design principles. Afrocentric carvings were moored in the wood
beams.

When Sundi told me she lived in Brooklyn, I
was thinking Bed-Stuy or Brownsville—two of the poorest
neighborhoods in the borough where crime and failing public schools
correlated with low household incomes—not here on Willow Street in
affluent Brooklyn Heights where she was a hop-skip-jump from
Pierrepont Street and its authentic mansions.

I used to live on Pierrepont.

"Can I get your jacket?" she asked me.

I started taking it off, and she helped me.
"Nice place," I said.

"It's a'ight," she threw back nonchalantly,
then added a little laugh. "No, I love it. I really do. I'm
blessed."

I helped her with her coat. As I stood behind
her peeling it off, my fingers brushed her shoulders that were left
bare by a plunging halter top. Her skin was butter soft and
magnetic. I immediately thought back to our reunion kiss in the
alley moments ago, and how we were shooed off like kids by a beat
cop who had discovered us.

"Would you like a drink?" she asked me.

"Certainly."

"Red or white?"

I frowned. "So ... uh ... are you admitting
that you forgot what I like?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "It's been
seven years, La’Renz."

"That's no excuse," I said back, flirting. It
felt 
so good 
to flirt again. "But I'll forgive you
this one time. Red, please."

I watched her pour the drinks at the kitchen
counter, paying careful attention to her womanly figure. There was
a time, pre-prison, when her body wasn't this advanced. During our
affair days, I remembered gripping her small hips from behind and
stuffing her tight pussy with all the dick I had, all that she
could take. I'd play with her titties, which were half the size as
they were now, while she sucked me off. It was fun then; and I
could only imagine what life inside Sundi Ashworth was like
now.

We sat in her living room in rustic armchairs
made of cow hide, drinking and catching up. I had my legs crossed
as I sipped and listened to her tell me about her part in helping
Mount Eliyah ENT rise in the ranks. It pained me to hear this, but
I listened respectfully. She said that Eliyah had no real key to
success other than knowing how to hire the right people.

He got that talent from me, 
I
thought.

"I don't think you should quit working at
Mount Eliyah," I said. "Not just yet."

"Why?" She took a sip of wine, then gave me a
conspiratorial eye. "You want me to be your spy?"

"Yes, I do. But the other reason is because
I'm not sure I can afford to sustain your lifestyle. You really
have obtained some nice things. This place is incredible."

"Thank you. Are you saying that La'Renz is
broke?"

"Oh, you know better than that. The media
says I'm bankrupt but I have plenty favors I can call in."

"It looks as though you already called in a
couple favors. You show up in a Balenciaga suit ... And is that a
Hublo watch you're wearing? I could never afford that."

"Good eye," I smiled. "But yes, I made a few
calls on my first day out. It's also within my legal right to sue
some of the major companies—Sony, Coca-Cola, Walmart—for hundreds
of millions. They owe me unpaid endorsements. Guaranteed I could
settle in the tens. But I refuse to do that because it'll make me
look desperate in the media's eyes. I'd rather collect from former
associates and ask for favors under the table."

"How much longer do you want me to work for
Eliyah?"

"Just until Taylor Music Group gets its first
number one record. I'ma need you to keep scouring those
submissions, giving the best ones to us. If an artist doesn't want
to fuck with us, destroy their demo. I don't want Eliyah to have a
chance to have 'em either."

She nodded and took another sip of wine.

"How is your and Thomas's relationship?" I
asked.

"Thomas Dyer? We're still friends."

"When the time is right, do you think you can
convince him to come back to Taylor Music Group? He won't listen to
me. He tried to stab me in his office."

"I doubt he'll listen to me either. He keeps
his nose in Eliyah’s ass."

"Literally?"

She shrugged one shoulder. "Probably. They've
been featured in magazines together. Thomas throws parties in
Eliyah's name. They golf together."

"Thomas never played golf."

"He does now."

"We could really use Thomas. He's a very
dedicated business man. I need you to work on him while you're
still employed there. Sow the seeds of doubt. Let him know that his
talents can be better utilized elsewhere. Just don't let him know
where that elsewhere is yet."

"Got it."

I told Sundi a little bit about my stay in
prison. I omitted the part about me suffering from cocaine
withdrawal and crying my eyes out in my cell alone because I
couldn't snort a line. I didn't want to seem weak in her eyes. But
she was still spellbound by my dark stories of solitude, the
subhuman conditions, my favorite meal (Ramen noodle pizza), and she
literally laughed out loud when I told her about my fight with a
flaming homosexual who had nicknamed himself Jazzmine Short. It
would have been an easy fight if I hadn't been worried about making
the she-man bleed.

Prison was hard for any man. But twice as
hard for a celebrity of my magnitude.

Sundi had set her drink down, leaning forward
to rest her elbows on her knees as she soaked up my prison
narrative. Her wonderful cleavage was showing now, even a hint of
bra. It was distracting.

So I said what the old La'Renz would have
said: "How big are they now?"

She followed my eyes, looking down at
herself. "My breasts?"

I nodded, then sipped more wine.

"I'm a D now," she said.

"You hit a growth spurt."

She laughed. "They're my gift and my
curse."

Then she did something that nearly made me
spit out my drink. She pulled her bra down and showed me her
nipples. Prettiest pair ever, just like I remembered them. She
smushed her right breast in and up, exposing the flesh underneath.
I set my drink down and leaned forward for a better look. She was
showing me some kind of dark brown birthmark.

"Remember this?" she asked.

I didn't. Squinting, I said, "No, am I
supposed to?"

"You did this during what was supposed to be
foreplay. You were high on cocaine. You bit me so hard you busted a
blood vessel, and when I screamed you still wouldn't stop. When I
finally got you off of me I was bleeding and missing skin."

I leaned back into my seat, fiddling with my
necktie nervously. I felt horrible. I honestly didn't remember that
episode.

She fixed the cups of her bra and covered
herself back up. "La’Renz, promise me you're done with the
cocaine," she said. "If I'm gonna be on your team again, I need you
to look me in the eyes and tell me that drugs won't be a part of
our operation this time."

"I promise," I said without hesitation.

She seemed startled by my immediacy.

"I filtered out all the negative aspects in
myself while behind bars. It took time, but cocaine is no longer my
demon. I've changed. I spent years disciplining myself for this
moment when I could take back what's mine. I won't let anything
stop me. Especially some stupid drug."

"Is it your passion for music driving you, or
your hate for Eliyah?"

I hesitated. "It's the music. Always has
been, always will be."

"Do you wanna see the rest of my house?" she
asked, not smiling.

I was eager, but I didn't smile either. "I
sure would, ma'am."

"Follow me, sir."

Like adults, we stood and she took my hand
gently and led me to her room. We kissed inside the doorway—it was
her who initiated it—then we fell on the bed together. I really had
a thing for this woman.

I stood back up and began undoing my cuff
links. "Would you like me to refill your glass of wine before we
commence?"

She finally gave me a smile. "Just half full,
if you don't mind. I'm a lady."

I took our empty glasses to the kitchen and
set them on the counter. Then I went back into the living room and
peeked around the corner to see if she could still see me.

I was in the clear.

Quietly, I went inside my suit jacket that
she hung on the coat rack and I fished out the pack of cocaine that
mafia boss Julian Beltrán dropped in my pocket at the club earlier.
I took the coke to the kitchen and cut the wrapping down the middle
with a knife. Sprinkles of powder dropped onto the counter.

I took my pinky finger and pressed it into
the cocaine as if I was fingerprinting. Then with the residue that
was left on my fingertip, I put it onto my tongue. The taste was
explosive! Definitely good shit. I didn't know if Julian had
refined his product or if it had simply been so long since I
dillydallied in coke that 
anything
 I tried would
have tasted good.

I wanted to snort a line. I really really
really did. Just one line. 
Fuck!
 I thought I was
more disciplined than this.

"La'Renz, I'm reaaa-deee!" Sundi called from
the bedroom in a sing-songey voice.

Sundi Ashworth. My new partner. My gorgeous
new partner. The only person that believed in me right now.

Resolutely, I started shaking the cocaine out
into the sink. "Don't get sidetracked, La'Renz. Stick to the plan,"
I said to myself. "If you don't, Eliyah wins."

The coke was sticking to the wrapping as if
it didn't want to go. But I forced it out. Then I cut the faucet on
and watched all the powder swirl down the drain.

Chapter 3

Kirbie Amor Capelton

Monifa really did have a gun. It was a black 9mm.
Coras grabbed her wrist and wrestled it out of her hand just in
time. Because if he hadn't, I would've shot that bitch.

"Coras, let me go!" Monifa screamed.

Coras passed Gee her gun so he could free up
both hands and wrap her in a tighter bear hug. She was trying to
charge across the room at me. But coming at me would do her no
good. I still had my .380 out.

"Calm down, Monifa," Coras growled in her
ear. But she wouldn't stop struggling. "You don't wanna go over
there. Gee, help me out!"

Gee moved into action.

"If you put your drunk-ass hands on me, Gee,
I'm telling my brother Milo!" Monifa shouted.

Gee stopped.

"Grab her!" Coras ordered. "Grab her!"

Gee finally helped out. They pinned her to
the ground. She seemed possessed. My heart was pumping fast. I
wanted to fight for Coras too. I wanted to shoot her or beat her
ass.