God Don't Like Haters 2 (5 page)

I had spent the night here at Ashleigh's
impressive three-bedroom single-family home in quiet Olathe,
Kansas, because Monifa wouldn't let me come home to her. That alone
was enough to give Ashleigh red flags because I rarely ever crashed
here. And then the salty status update ... it was clear me and
Monifa were going through it.

Ashleigh came back in the room pouting. She
put her hands on her hips, taking a stance.

Dammit!
 
Here we go
again
.

"Are yall broken up or are you not gonna tell
me?" she said with grief raw in her voice. "Because I don't know
how much longer I can put up with being the side chick if I can't
at least know what's going on."

"We got into an argument," I said,
finally.

"About what?"

"Something stupid."

She stomped her foot. "About what?!"

"Monifa was mad that I've been staying at the
studio all hours of the night, so she popped up on me last night.
She was in her feelings, probably off of a pill, her and Kirbie
almost got into it, it was late and everybody was tired—"

"Wait. Her and Kirbie fought? Why am I just
now hearing about this?"

"They didn't fight. Me and Gee got between
'em before it got ugly."

"How did it start?"

I sighed. Women always wanted details.

I talked Ashleigh into shaping up my hairline
while she quizzed me further. She was pretty good with the
clippers, I trusted her. And now she was concentrating more on
making me look presentable than the near altercation last night.
After she was finished, she put a mirror in front of my face so I
could see her handiwork.

I smiled, rubbing my shaved cheeks. She did
good.

"What if Monifa comes at me sideways like
that and tries to fight me for no reason?" Ashleigh asked. "What
are you gonna do?"

"Same thing. I'ma hold her ass back."

"You better not make me leave like you did
Kirbie. Monifa better be the one to go, I know that."

"Why does it matter?"

"That'll be disrespectful if you make me
leave over her, whether she's related to yo weed plug or not. She
had no business being there. I can understand you doing that to
Kirbie. But I'm not Kirbie. If you can't stand up for me as your
woman, then you better stand up for me as your manager. If not,
what am I doing here?"

I hadn't really thought about how Kirbie felt
about me kicking her out until now. Ashleigh had a point. The
studio was our zone. That was where we made shit happen. I should
have made Monifa leave. I guess I was too caught up in diffusing
the situation that I didn't take into consideration Kirbie's
feelings. But I loved Kirbie. She knew that, right? She knew why I
sent her out.

I decided I would text her as soon as
Ashleigh got out of my face.

***

I was riding in the passenger seat of Ashleigh's
fuel-friendly Volvo SUV, on our way to pick up Gee, as I looked
over my text to Kirbie. I was checking for errors and trying to
read it from a different point of view to make sure it didn't sound
insensitive.

Coras Bane:
 I apologize if I
disrespected you in any kind of way last night. Now that I think
about it, I should have made Monifa leave and not you. I wasn't
thinking right. You had my mind jumbled all up from the ... you
know what (smile). I'll see you in a few. We're picking up Gee,
then we'll come pick you up. I hope you're ready. Tonight is the
big show!

It had been a half hour since I sent it and I
still hadn't gotten a response yet. She normally hit me back within
five minutes or so. I was wondering if she misinterpreted the smile
I inserted into the text as being facetious. Maybe I should have
taken out that whole sentence.

Then a reply finally came through.

Her text back was ... shocking:

Kirbie Amor:
 As far as last night, no
harm no foul. I already forgot about it. And as far as the concert
at the Sprint Center tonight, I'll pass. Me and Archie have
plans.

I wasn't sure if I had read it right.

"What's wrong?" Ashleigh asked me. "Who just
texted you?"

I guess the bewilderment was written all over
my face. "Kirbie," I said to her, as I read the text again. "She
said she's not coming to the concert."

"What?!"

"I know. That's what I was thinking."

"Call her now."

I had already tapped the green-phone icon and
was putting the cell up to my ear. She answered on the seventh
ring. Anything after four was disrespectful to me.

"Hello?" she said.

"Kirbie, I just read your text. What's this
about passing on the show? Did you send that text, or is yo
boyfriend Archie playing on yo phone again?"

"I sent it."

She sounded irritated but I didn't care.

"Explain that shit to me," I flared. "You
can't cancel on a show like this at the last minute. What kind of
shit are you on?"

"I'm not going, Coras."

"Is it because I kicked you out of the
studio?"

"No. I just gotta start focusing on what's
important in my life."

"Music's not important no more?"

"It used to be."

"When the fuck did it change?!"

"Since I got engaged."

I was shellshocked. My baby girl ... engaged?
Kirbie was supposed to be my wife one day. This was one hellavuh
bomb. I couldn't believe it.

What the fuck was she tryna prove?

In a fair and calm voice, I said, "Kirbie, I
don't know what Archie did to convince you that singing isn't your
future, but I'm here to remind you that it is. You're the hottest
artist in Kansas City. And I would say hottest artist 
in
the world
 but the world hasn't heard you yet. And if you
stop now, they never will. I need you to—"

Ashleigh cut me off. "Don't try to convince
her to come. If she doesn’t wanna come, tell her to stay her ass at
home." Ashleigh said it loud so Kirbie could hear on the other
end.

"See, that ho is one of the main reasons why
I'm tired of that shit," Kirbie fussed to me. "She's a fake-ass
manager that's been hating on me since I joined the team. And
you've been letting her hate on me, Coras. So I'm not sure where
you stand either."

"I have been in your corner and supporting
you from the jump. With my own money, with my own time."

"If you want me to reimburse you for whatever
money and time you spent on me, I will."

"You know I ain't tripping off of that. I
just don't want you to quit."

"Stop begging that bitch!" Ashleigh
hollered.

I pushed my palm at Ashleigh and
mouthed, 
Shut the hell up!

Kirbie barked in my ear, "Did she just call
me a bitch? Tell her to say that shit to me the next time she see
me. I'll be the last bitch she ever sees."

"Kirbie, just come do this show. If you still
wanna quit after this, after seeing a packed house of over 19,000
people cheering for you, I'll respect yo wishes and leave you
alone."

"That fucking show is a joke, Coras! I'm only
featured on like one song. I'm not your fucking hype man! Don't try
to play me like you’ve been playing them other bitches. I'm not
Monifa, and I damn sure ain't Ashleigh! I'm done with that music
shit. I'm a hustler. That's what I was born to do."

"So you're gonna sell pills the rest of your
life?"

"No, try cocaine. I'm moving up."

"Kirbie, that's the stupidest—"

She hung up on me. I couldn't remember the
last time I've been this angry in my life. I wasn't as angry at
Kirbie as I was at Archie for screwing up her head. Kirbie was the
best thing to happen to Swope Records. I'd be damned if I just let
her talent go to waste.

"Did that bitch hang up on you?" Ashleigh
asked.

"Yep."

"Forget her. She ain't been nothing but a
problem to us since she signed on. I hope she knows there's no
coming back this time. We're done with her, right?"

"Nah, she signed a contract. She ain't going
nowhere."

"What?" Ashleigh was so surprised she almost
lost control of the wheel. We had started to cross into the next
lane, causing a car in our blind spot to honk at us. "You still
wanna keep her?"

"Make a left right here, Ashleigh. We're
going to Kirbie's house first."

"No!"

"I said make a left!"

"No!"

We passed where we were supposed to turn. I
pulled my gun out, a 9mm Walther PPX with a polymer grip. I cocked
it back.

"At this light coming up, make a goddamn
left," I said calmly but with no less ego.

Ashleigh started crying. "Are you gonna shoot
me?"

"Stop being silly."

"Are you gonna shoot Archie?"

"Not if I don't have to."

"Why do you wanna do this, huh? Is it
business or is it something else? Tell me the fucking truth,
Coras!"

"Kirbie is my artist, that's it. I'm
protecting my investment."

"Get another fucking investment!" Ashleigh
hollered, and banged her hand on the steering wheel once. "As your
manager, I have to do what's best for your career. And what's best
is making sure you make it to the Sprint Center tonight. As your
girlfriend, or side piece or wifey or whatever I am for right now,
I won't let you throw your life away for an ungrateful bitch that
you clearly have feelings for. We're going to pick up Gee and then
we're going to put on the best show this city has ever seen. And
that's final!"

I was looking down at my gun as I held it in
my lap, finger curled around the trigger. I knew if I went to go
pick up Kirbie right now I was going to commit a murder. I really
wanted to kill that chubby muthafucka Archie, and that right there
told me that now wasn't the time to confront him. I had to be
smart. I had to be calculating. If I wanted Archie out of the
picture, there was a smarter way of going about doing it. I just
had to figure out what that way was.

I took my finger off of the trigger, leaned
back against the seat and sighed.

Ashleigh was relieved. "Please don't scare me
like that again," she said.

A moment later my phone started ringing. I
looked at the ID and saw it was from Milo Chavis. Monifa's brother.
My 
OG Tahoe
 plug. I knew it had something to do
with what happened between Kirbie and Monifa at the studio and I
didn't want to hear about it right now. So I let the call go to
voicemail. I'd postpone that talk until after the show. I didn't
need any more distractions.

"Was that Kirbie calling back?" Ashleigh
asked.

I didn't answer her. I just turned the radio
on and zoned out as I practiced my lyrics to the songs I'd be
performing later ... songs I’d have to perform without the love of
my life.

GabbyTV:
There’s footage circulating on the
internet that supposedly shows La’Renz “Buddy Rough” Taylor
attacking a bouncer in front of a popular nightclub in New York
City on West 25th Street. He proceeds to break the bouncer’s
fingers and then waltzes inside the club as if he owned the place.
It hasn’t been confirmed that La’Renz is the one in the video, but
if it is, I’ll be the first to tell you that this man is asking to
be killed. You heard it from me first.

Chapter 8

La'Renz "Buddy Rough" Taylor

"Why did you rent a hotel directly across the street
from Mount Eliyah ENT?" Sundi asked with laughter in her voice. She
was standing at the window, looking down at the Manhattan streets.
Then she closed the curtains and turned toward me. "Have you gone
mad, my friend?"

"Not mad," I replied, as I looked under the
bed for the 
Swope Park Gritter Vol. 2
 mixtape.
"Just determined. Where the fuck is the fucking CD case at?!
Goddamn!"

I stood up and put my hands on my hips,
frustrated. I turned my head left and right, looking around the
room for where I put it. There was a pile of CDs on the floor I had
searched through twice. I was starting to wonder if housekeeping
found it and pocketed it. Maybe Eliyah knew I was staying in this
hotel after all and he sent housekeeping (or a spy unrelated to
this hotel) to retrieve what I had stolen from him. But why didn't
they take 
all
 the CDs, and not just Kirbie's?

I looked up at Sundi as she crossed the suite
toward me. Did she contact Eliyah last night and alert him that I
had a potential artist named Kirbie Amor that I was looking to
sign? Is that why she didn't want me to come here in the middle of
the night? So Eliyah would have time to send somebody in here and
steal the mixtape?

Sundi grabbed my face in both hands and shook
me a little bit. "Pull it together, La'Renz," she said. "Where did
you have it last?"

"I know where I had it," I said. "I left the
case on the dresser. I don't understand why it isn't still
there."

"I worked with you a long time, Mr. Taylor.
You misplace things all the time. We just have to backtrack."

"I misplaced things when I had a drug
problem. I haven't used cocaine in years. I know where I left the
fucking case!"

"Baby, calm down."

"Let me see your phone," I said to her.

"Huh?"

"Let me see your damn phone if you don't have
anything to hide."

She let my face go, searching my eyes for an
explanation. "I don't know what you're excusing me of, and I don't
think I wanna know." She reached in her purse and pulled her cell
phone out, then grabbed my hand and forced me to take her phone.
"There, it's yours, do what you want with it. I'm going to finish
searching for that mixtape."

She bumped my shoulder as she brushed past me
and began searching the hotel dresser drawers behind me. With one
hand still on my hip and the other holding her phone, I looked over
my shoulder at her. There was a time, a long time ago, when I had
suspicions that she'd been deceiving me. I thought she was sleeping
with one of our artists, Yayo Love. This was before Eliyah stole
him, before the tape leaked that revealed me and Sundi's affair.
Bloggers had gotten ahold of a photo of Sundi sitting on Yayo
Love's lap in a popular Miami nightclub. He was captured kissing
her on the cheek and she was smiling at the camera. The popular
blogs, mainly GabbyTV, spun the picture as a love connection, and
over the course of a few weeks the story started to gain
ground.