God Don't Like Haters 2 (3 page)

"Let me go!" Monifa was in full tantrum mode.
"Kirbie ain't got the balls to shoot me!"

"Yes, she does," Coras snapped at her. "You
know she does. Calm down!"

"No! You're down here fucking her every day
and I'm thinking you're actually in the studio working! I'm gonna
fuck you up, Coras! Let me go, Gee!"

"We 
were
 working,
Monifa."

I didn't understand why Coras was explaining
himself. Why didn't he just tell the bitch the truth and send her
on her way?

"You think I'm stupid? She was sitting in
your lap and you were kissing her!"

"We were just acting out a scene for a
video," he explained. "I don't fuck wit' Kirbie like that. That's
lil' sis."

My jaw dropped? Lil' sis? When did I become
lil' sis? I wanted to shoot Coras now.

"I love you, Monifa. Don't act like you don't
know that. All I need is you. What you saw was acting. We talked
about how I'm gonna take acting classes after I blow up in the rap
game."

"You practice on me and only me!"

"Okay, whatever you want." Coras looked at me
like I was the enemy. "Kirbie, put that gun up. Get out of
here."

My mouth was still hanging open. "You
want 
me
 to leave?" I said in disbelief.

I didn't understand. I recorded here. I made
hits, not Monifa.

"Kirbie, you see she's gon' crazy. Leave! She
won't calm down until you leave!"

I felt tears welling in my eyes. We just
shared our first kiss and now he was kicking me out? I felt foolish
to believe he'd drop her and choose me. I had finally opened my
heart up to him. He took what he wanted and closed me back up.

"Kirbie!" he said viciously. "Get out!"

I stormed past them, up the steps and out the
house into the pouring rain. Once inside my Mercedes, I sat for a
moment looking ahead through my rain-swept windshield at Monifa’s
car that was parked in front of me. I wanted to do something bad to
it, like shoot her tires out or break her windows.

But then I realized how stupid that would be.
I wasn’t anything to Coras. My feelings for him were wrong and
misplaced.

So instead of violence, I decided on posting
a status to my profile page to sum up my anger.

Kirbie Amor:
Sometimes you think you’re more
important to somebody than you really are. Tonight was a wake-up
call. We hate those calls, but we have to answer ‘em sooner or
later.

Chapter 4

La'Renz "Buddy Rough" Taylor

With Sundi, I enjoyed missionary sex, holding her
legs up and back and out. I loved to watch her face twist and
contort as I fucked her. I could always tell by her strange facial
expressions when I was going too hard. The "tight-lipped, squinted
eyes" look meant I was in her comfort zone. She loved this zone.
The "bared teeth, squeezed shut eyes" look meant I had entered no
man's land.

I favored 
this
 zone.

It was warmer at the bottom of her womb.

"Baby, 
eaaaasy,”
she hissed.

"Seven years, you expect me to be easy?"

"Try, please try."

I let her legs come forward some, so she
wasn't forced to stretch as much. "That better?"

"Uh-huh."

A moment later she was on top of me, riding
me in an aggressive rhythm that seemed to be challenging the way I
had just fucked her. She was trying to outdo me! I wanted to reach
up and squeeze her big pretty breasts, but from my flat position,
that dark brown scar would wink at me every time her titties
bounced up and down. It was a scary reminder of my past cocaine
addiction.

I opted to squeeze her booty instead. My
fingertips found the fine hairs in between her cheeks. It was moist
here.

After an hour, we both collapsed into each
other's sweaty arms.

"Oh my goodness you're the devil," she said
out of breath.

"You wanna know who the real devil is?"

"Who?"

"Eliyah Golomb."

"Let's not talk about him. Let's talk about
us." She kissed me on the cheek. "He's not allowed in my
bedroom."

I thought about the picture of her and Eliyah
together on her Site page and wondered how true that statement
was.

"I don't plan to live here very long," I told
her.

She looked offended. "Why?"

"I'm gonna need my space. I've had to share
my space with other people for seven years and I just need to be
alone for a time. I need to get my thoughts together."

"That sounds like a cop-out. They were male
inmates, I'm a woman."

"It's not about gender. It's about human
contact. Sometimes a man just needs to be alone. Needs to be able
to think, uninterrupted."

"My home isn't a prison cell. There's plenty
of nooks and crannies in here and in this neighborhood where you
can get lost. You don't have to move out." She kissed me again,
three pecks. "Please stay? I've missed you, La'Renz." 

She said this to me
before. 
I've missed you, La'Renz. 
It was when
the lid got blown off of our affair by sources connected to
GabbyTV. A video recording of me and Sundi having sex in my mansion
popped up on the internet. Somebody filmed us through an open
window. I staunchly denied my presence on the tape, and so did
Sundi. To cut off speculation I stopped going out with Sundi after
work, stopped sleeping with her altogether. Paparazzi had become
rapacious vampires, so the no-sex stint lasted months. Jazzmine had
to conduct interviews where she was questioned about my infidelity
and she stood behind me—
that wasn't my husband on that
tape,
 she professed. But behind closed doors I had to feel
her wrath. And she let the world know subtly that she was on to me
by singing her heart out on chart-topping songs about
unfaithfulness.

When things died down and me and Sundi
finally hooked up again, she said these words to me: 
I've
missed you, La'Renz.

"I think I found my next Jazzmine Short," I
said as I came out of my thoughts.

Sundi smacked my chest, offended again.
"Jazzmine's not allowed in my bedroom either."

"No, this isn't about her. This is about a
singer I stumbled upon. Her name is Kirbie Amor. She's dope."

"How'd you find her?"

"Those submissions I stole from your
boss."

"I thought you didn't find anything."

"I found Kirbie but when I called, her
manager blew me off. I was gonna leave the whole ordeal alone but
then I heard DJ East spinning her tonight. I got inspired all over
again. I think it's manifest destiny that she's gonna be my first
artist."

"Why did you call the manager and not the
artist directly?"

"Only the phone number for the manager was
listed."

"Yeah, La'Renz, but every artists' contact
info is almost always listed on the back of the CD. Maybe not a
phone number, but there should have at least been a Site
contact."

"The Site? Social media?"

"Yes, social media is a legitimate,
professional form of contact next to e-mail now. Things have
changed since you've been gone. You should have seen a small 'at'
sign, the lowercase 'a' with a circle around it"—she made small
loopty-loops with her finger—"in front of her Site name. That's a
contact."

I was almost certain I had seen it. "The
Site?" I said again, being sure.

"Yes!" she insisted.

Galvanized, I sat up quickly and swung my
legs out of bed. Sundi grabbed my arm.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Back to my hotel to get the CD," I said.

"It's almost three o'clock in the morning.
Are you crazy?"

"We both know a lot of successful people that
are crazy."

"La'Renz, we're not going all the way over to
Manhattan at this time of night. We'll go tomorrow. Or, since today
is technically tomorrow, we'll go later."

"We'll go now. I don't want Kirbie to get
away."

Sundi rolled over and grabbed a coin off of
her nightstand. It was a silver half dollar.

"Let's flip for it," she said. "If it's
heads, I'll drive you to Manhattan right now. If it's tails, you
stay and make love to me for another hour and we sleep in and then
we wake up and make the trip to your hotel to get all your
stuff."

I chuckled. Back in the day we used to flip a
coin for everything—who was going to pay for lunch, which single to
leak online, who was going to perform oral sex on who first. Her
fun side hadn't changed much. I took the coin from her to make sure
both sides weren't the same.

"You think I'd cheat you?" she said.

"Women are creatures of guile."

"So are men."

"I'll flip it. Or no deal."

"Be my guest," she said.

With the flick of my thumb, the coin twirled
in the air. Together, we watched it spin and land in my palm as I
whammed it on the back of my other hand. I didn't lift my top hand
right away. I wanted to give her a little suspense.

"C'mon, let's see," she laughed.

I removed my hand.

Tails.

Chapter 5

Kirbie Amor Capelton

I stood at the front door of me and Archie's home,
not prepared to go in. I had been crying the whole way here. Coras
had just made me feel cheap and used. He had treated me like I
meant nothing. He chose Monifa over 
me
.

As I tried to wipe my tears away, I knew it
would do no good. I looked a mess. And I felt worse. I knew what I
had to do on the other side of this door, but I wasn't sure if I
could follow through. I took a deep breath, then I put my key in
the door and turned the knob. Archie heard me enter.

"In here, baby," he called out from the
dining room.

I adjusted my .380 to be sure it would stay
put in my waist, then I followed his voice to the dining room. I
was surprised to see he had cooked another elaborate meal, which
was laid out neatly in the middle of the table. And I was utterly
shocked to see my father sitting across from him.

"What's going on?" I asked.

"I went to pick up your father," Archie
smiled.

"I see."

But you also went to go pick up our pills
from the fake robbery
, 
you dirty muthafucka.

I looked at my daddy.

My father said, "Archie told me you wanted me
over here for dinner. Said you had a surprise for me."

I glared at Archie.

"Okay, I told a lie." Archie's smile got
bigger. "But it's all for a good cause. Sit down, Kirbie. No wait,
go change first. Take that hoodie off. You look like a thug."

Archie wore a burgundy knit sweater with a
shawl collar. My father had on a plaid workman's long-sleeve and a
puff vest. They both looked like gentleman, while I could pass for
a vagabond.

I sat down anyway—in the chair next to my
father, not near Archie. Archie gave me a curious look as if to say
I was in the wrong seat, but then he stood and got our plates
together. He decorated our salads by hand, leaning over our
shoulders to sprinkle cheese and croutons atop lettuce. When he was
done, he kissed me on the cheek and I didn't move a muscle. I was
still dazed by how wicked Coras had yelled at me.

Leave! She won't calm down until you leave!
Kirbie! Get out!

"I take it you're looking down like that
because you didn't find the niggas who robbed us," Archie whispered
in my ear. "I told you to leave it alone. Now you're disappointed."
Then he poured our drinks—bubbling beer-brown champagne—and this
time spoke loud enough for my father to hear too. "But I got
something that'll cheer you up, Kirbie. And make Mr. Capelton happy
as well."

He scurried to the other side of the table,
poured his own drink and held his glass in the air. "I'd like to
call a toast. To the beginning of a new day in all of our
lives."

My father glanced over at me as he grabbed
his glass to raise it up. When he saw my motionless trance, he set
his drink back down and put his arm around my chair. He looked at
Archie. "What did you do to my daughter?"

"Nothing, sir. She's just been having a bad
week and I'm trying to cheer her up."

"Did you hit her again?" Then my father
turned to me. "Did he hit you again?"

"You told him I hit you?" Archie asked me
angrily.

I was tuned out. Tears started to flow down
my cheeks. 
Coras, why did you stick up for Monifa and not
me?
 I had always thought that if it ever came down to it,
Coras would choose me over any other female without batting an
eye. 

"Oh hell naw, my baby's crying." Daddy shot
to his feet and pointed at Archie rudely. "Did you put your hands
on my daughter!"

"No, sir."

"Let me find out you put your hands on my
daughter again ... I'll kill you! She stopped me from putting a
bullet in yo head the first time."

"Who the fuck are you to talk, nigga?" Archie
set his drink down. "Do I need to remind you how many times you put
your hands on Kirbie?! I hit her 
once
. One time. You
beat her almost every day of her whole fucking life."

"That's none of your business, boy!"

"It is too my business. I opened my doors to
yo daughter when she had nowhere else to go. I taught her how to
get money. You should be thanking me!"

"Thanking you for teaching her how to peddle
drugs? You don't get a thank-you for that. Teach her about the Word
and I'll thank you. Teach her about all the vital truths that God
revealed to man and I'll—"

"Don't come at me with that shit! You just
learned that shit yesterday. Speak on what you really know, and
that's abuse. Alcohol abuse, spousal
abuse, 
child
 abuse. You ran—"

"STOP!" I screamed.

"No, Kirbie, he needs to hear this shit. He
done got me going." Archie took a quick sip of champagne. "If it
wasn't for me, your daughter would've ended up just like your wife.
Wandering somewhere around this country probably begging for change
or having sex for food. And you know what? Your wife is probably
better off now than she was with you!"