Nasty Girls (24 page)

We took a seat at a nearby booth, with him sitting across from me.

I chuckled.

“What's so funny?” he asked.

“You look like one of the brothas from the hood dressed like that,” I mentioned.

“Oh, really?”

“You don't look like a cop right now. You look good. I definitely like it.” I smiled.

“Well, thank you. I'm flattered. You know the uniform does come off when I leave work,” he joked.

“Ha, ha,” I replied. “You got jokes.”

“Nah, but this is me off duty. Relaxed and not tryin' to think about the job,” he said, picking up the menu. “I'm human just like everybody else, Jade.”

“So how long have you been a cop?” I asked.

“About five years now.”

“You like bein' a cop?”

“It's cool. I feel the benefits are great. And the job's not boring, and I get to carry a gun.”

“So, you're one of these action-adventurous types of men, who like to chase down bad guys, get into car chases, and duck bullets, thinkin' they Superman?” I said.

“Never been in a high-speed chase yet,” he said, smiling, mocking me.

“You makin' fun of me?”

“Nah . . .”

“Yes, you are—stop it,” I said, tittering.

He was cool, and his vibe was great.

“Might I add, Jade, that you're lookin' fine yourself. I love it. You're definitely beautiful,” he said, causing me to blush.

“Stop messin' wit' me, Casey.” I smiled more, trying to avoid eye contact with him.

“I'm glad we came on this first date,” he said.

“Same here.”

“So what you orderin'?” he asked, peering at me.

“You got nice eyes. I never really noticed them. What color . . . hazel?”

“I get 'em from my mother. . . . She's part Italian.”

“You serious? You got Italian in your blood?”

“My father's black, and my mother's Italian. And please, no mob jokes.”

“It wasn't even on my mind.” I told him, laughing a little.

“So what about you—you askin' me about my life, I want to know about yours, Jade,” Casey said, putting down the menu and focusing his attention completely on me.

“Ain't much to tell,” I started. “I never knew my father; he bounced when I was three. And I grew up in the projects all my life. My mother, she's still around, livin' in South Carolina now, and doin' fine for herself.”

“Any kids?”

“No,” I quickly replied. I didn't want to bring up me losing my baby a few years ago. “What about you? Do you have any kids?”

“I have one. A son. His name is Randy. He's eight.”

“That's nice. And what about the mother—is she still around?”

“Straightforward are we, huh? That's cool. Well, Candy, she's a lost cause. I tried being there for her, but she's a chickenhead.”

“So, y'all not together?”

“We haven't been together in four years. My son stays with me or his grandmother. I'm raisin' him.”

We ordered drinks and a few appetizers, and our conversation never stopped. Casey, he was very interesting. And he was fun to talk to. I was on my fourth drink.

“Casey, how old are you?” I asked.

He smiled. “How old do you think I am?”

I examined his face, his eyes. He was mature, responsible, and I knew he had to be in his twenties, I say late twenties. “Twenty-eight,” I blurted.

He smiled. “I'm twenty-five.”

“What . . . fo' real? And you became a cop when you were twenty, I guess.”

“Hey, you're listenin'. That's cool.”

“So, if you're twenty-five now, and your son is eight, damn . . . you must have had him when you were—”

“Seventeen,” he chimed in.

“Damn, you were young,” I said.

“Yeah. I was young, foolish, and a wild boy back then.”

“Where you from, anyway?”

“I grew up in Brooklyn . . . Brownsville.”

“What made you become a cop?” I asked, taking a sip from my drink.

“I don't really know. I just saw that they were hirin', and took
the test one day. I never took it serious. Shit, I never though I'd pass and make it this far. But I did, became a rookie cop, and now it's been five years and I'm workin' at the Hundred third.”

“You grew up in Brownsville. I knew a nigga out there.”

“Really. Y'all dated?”

“Nah. He was friends with my cousins. But he was into drugs real heavy,” I said.

“You like them thug niggas, right?” he questioned.

“What makes you say that?”

“I see it in you. That's your preferences.”

“I'm sayin' . . . thugs and hustlers are the only men I know. I grew up around them. My mother dated them. My friends, my cousins . . .”

“So have you ever dated someone like me?”

“No. But then again, I don't really know you like that; you may turn out to be a knucklehead just like the rest of 'em. You dress like one. But so far, you gain some positive points around me.”

He smiled. “Jade, not to be in your personal business, but what's up wit' you and your situation?”

“What situation?” I replied, naïve about the question.

“Jade, I hate to ask . . . but are you in an abusive relationship?”

“Please, nigga, why you bringin' the shit up on our first date? I was havin' a good time wit' you.”

“I'm not trying to cause you to be upset—”

“Then don't!” I barked, leaning back against the padded chair and catching an attitude.

“Listen. I just met you, but I care about you, and I'm tellin' you the truth. The only reason why I'm bringin' it up is because I don't want to see you get hurt or worse—”

“Listen, Casey . . . I know how to take care of myself. Nigga, it ain't your business anyway,” I spat, getting ghetto on his ass. “Is this the reason you brought me here, to fuckin' investigate my ass, huh?”

“No, no . . . please, I didn't mean to offend you,” he apologized. “I just wanted to talk.”

I was sighing, crossing my arms, and was about ready to get up and leave, and have him sitting here by himself. I didn't want to think about James tonight, but here Casey was, bringing my drama up and reminding me of the bullshit that I was going through at home. Sitting with Casey was the one time I actually felt peaceful and safe, and James never came into my thoughts until he brought it up.

“Why did you do that!” I asked, getting a bit emotional.

“Do what?”

“Bring him up!”

“Who? Your boyfriend? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you.”

“But you did! Tonight was goin' so good with you, Casey. I was laughin' and not thinkin' about him at all.” I said. “I don't wanna think about him.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I just wanna think about you.”

He smiled. “A'ight, it's about us tonight . . . and no one else.”

I sighed.

We stayed at Chantell's for an hour. And Casey never brought up the situation. He saw how touchy I became and let it be. After I calmed down, and went back into a positive mood, Casey had me laughing all night. He was funny. I like that. I haven't laughed around a man in so long.

Around one thirty, Casey volunteered to drive me home. He asked me if I was still on for spending Thanksgiving with him. I told him yes, I wouldn't dare miss it. Whatever James and I had planned, it flew the coop.

Casey pulled up in front of my building in his green '98 Honda Accord. His car was nice, with cream leather seats, a CD player, moonroof, and chromed rims. I joked and asked, “You sure you a cop? Because you lookin' like a baller right now.”

He laughed it off.

When he parked in front of my building, I became nervous, thinking about James. I feared for my life. I knew he was out there, and dreaded that he might be watching me, and plotting to kill me. I sat frozen in the passenger seat, trying to get my nerves together.

“You okay?” Casey asked, looking at me.

“Yeah.”

“Come on, I'll walk you up.” I smiled, feeling a bit thankful.

He got out the car and, like a gentleman, walked around and opened the door for me, allowing for me to step out.

“It got cold out here,” Casey said.

I glanced around. “Yeah, it did.”

We headed for the lobby as the cold wind nipped at our skins. We were a few feet away from my building when I heard, “Yo, Jade . . . let me talk to you for a minute.” It was James, and I felt my heart stop.

I turned around and saw James coming in my direction. He was accompanied by two other thuggish-looking men. He had on a black ski hat and a big winter coat. The look I saw in his eyes, I knew he wanted to fuck my ass up.

Casey stood next to me, quiet and staring at James as he
approached. I didn't say a word; I just stood with my feet planted to the concrete, like they were frozen there.

“Yo, what the fuck is wrong wit' you, Jade?” James asked. He talked to me like Casey wasn't even standing right next to me.

“James, please go away. I ain't got the time,” I told him.

“Nah, bitch . . . You think you slick! That's my shit you threw out, bitch!”

“Yo, watch your mouth,” Casey said, stepping up.

James glared at Casey with his face contorted with that thuggish attitude, like he was crazy. “Nigga, who the fuck is you?”

“James, please . . . ,” I said.

“Nah, who the fuck is this cornball-ass nigga?” he shouted. I noticed his men glaring at Casey, like they wanted to jump in. But Casey held his cool and calmly replied, “Take a walk, yo.”

“Nigga, what? That's my bitch you walkin' with! Fuck is wrong wit' you, bitch?”

“Yo, I'm warnin' you, please leave,” Casey said again.

“Yo, y'all hear this nigga!” he shouted, referring to his boys. “Nigga, that's my word, you come out your mouth like that to me again, and I'll show you what's up!” James stepped up to Casey.

But Casey smoothly pulled out his badge and let known that he was a cop and watched a shocked James and his niggas halt in their tracks.

“Oh, it's like that, Officer?” James said, backing up.

“Yeah, it's like that. Now leave, before I take your ass in for disorderly conduct.” I couldn't help but to smile.

“You laughin', bitch?” James said. “You think it's funny? A'ight . . . Fuck you! You still live here, Jade, remember that shit.”

And he was right. I had my moment tonight, but when Casey leaves my side, I was going to be all alone again, and that terrified me.

James and his cronies strutted off back down the block and into the cold, going back to where they came from. It was scary—he just came out of nowhere.

“You okay?” Casey asked, putting his arm around me.

I nodded my head.

“You want to head up to your apartment, or do you want me to take you someplace else?” he asked.

“Walk wit' me up to my apartment,” I told him.

We walked into my building, and Casey escorted me to my door. “So that was him?” he inquired.

“Yeah,” I responded meekly.

“He a fuckin' asshole.”

I smiled faintly.

“Listen—,” he started.

“Please, let's not get into this.”

“A'ight. But are you gonna be safe here?”

“Yeah. I changed the locks. He don't have a key.”

“Good.”

“Thank you.”

“Jade, it's not a problem. If you need my help or someone to talk to, you have my number. Give me a call anytime. I'm a cop. I'm here to protect and serve.”

“I will,” I assured him.

Our speech became quiet. I looked into his beautiful hazel eyes and he peered into mines. I wanted to kiss him. I appreciated his help. If he wasn't around tonight, no telling what James would have done to me. I think Casey saved my life.

“Well,” Casey said, breaking our lovely moment of silence, “I'm gonna let you be. I gotta work tomorrow afternoon.”

“I understand,” I said, with my voice sounding a tad disappointed.

He moved away from me slowly. I had my keys in the lock, but never took my eyes off him. All of a sudden, Casey became irresistible to me. He was funny, smart, cute, and he had heart. Not too many people would stand up to James for me, like Casey did tonight. He got respect for that. He handled the situation smoothly, but still being a little stern. I didn't want him to leave tonight. I couldn't. Casey was by the elevator when I turned around and called out, “Casey . . .”

He turned to me. And I quickly went up to him and jumped into his arms, and began kissing him passionately. He didn't resist. He followed me into my apartment, where our clothes quickly came off, and he carried me off into the bedroom.

I wanted him—physically. I fucked his brains out that night. He wasn't big like James, but he was decent, about seven and a half inches hard, and a sista was able to work wit' it. Casey made me feel like a woman. After the sex, I nestled in his arms, and he held me all night. He made me feel safe. He spent the night, and he definitely did protect and serve.

T
he drama never ends around here, I swear. If you ain't having beef with a bitch, then it's a nigga. I started thinking that leaving for California would be the best thing for me to do. But if I do leave, I had to handle shit at home first. I wasn't trying to leave NY with turmoil behind me. Jade and Shy are my girls and I love 'em, but I had to straighten a few things out first. I started thinking about Shy, and for her to be fucking with James—that's trifling. But I wasn't sure. It looked like her from that day when I spotted them on L.I., but then again, maybe it wasn't. But I was gonna find out. I planned to speak to Shy personally about it.