RedBone (21 page)

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Authors: T. Styles

BOOK: RedBone
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“Why you didn’t keep that spot in the Lofts? I was hoping we could live there together.” Secretly he wanted to move dope out of her apartment, since it was in one of his best drug areas. “I thought it would be nice to have that place and our house here.”

“They rented it out because I couldn’t afford to stay there. It’s already gone.”

“You should’ve said something.” He shook his head. “Well, since you’re my fiancée, you can live with me.”

“Randy, you gotta give me time to tell my family. And my mother. I mean, she’s sick right now and needs my help.”

“You don’t even fuck with your mother like that.”

“We been working on our relationship.” She smiled weakly, now holding a happy puppy to make her lie more believable. “I can’t move with you right now because I don’t want to leave her alone, and my sisters are doing their own thing.”

“I’m gonna let you stay at your mom’s house for now, but when she’s better, or not, you’re moving in with me. That ring on your finger means you are mine. I’m serious about that. You have to handle yourself in the streets like a lady at all times because I’m watching. You’re my queen. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, Randy.” She bawled, wiping tears off her face.

“You know it disappoints me that you’re crying. You used to tell me you dreamed about a dark-chocolate nigga to sweep you off your feet. I never forgot about that ... so here I am.” Awkwardly skipping the subject Randy asked, “So what you gonna name them?” He looked at the dogs.

“Not sure. Guess I gotta think about it.” The dogs were the last things on her mind.

“Well, think of something tonight.” He grabbed the puppy from her lap and it yapped loudly because he gripped it too hard. He put both dogsfaces up to his and kissed them both in the mouths. His tongue touched theirs and Farah was grossed out. “Now go get cleaned up and then go to my room. I want you face down ass up.”

Chapter 17

 

“Welcome to my crazy-ass world.”
—Farah

 

 

 

After Coconut declined Farah’s roommate offer, she placed an ad in the
Washington Post.
She was looking for a chick she could hang with who was also her roommate, especially since she found out Coconut was spending more time with Shannon. Her jealously was off the meter. If she wanted to end their friendship she would play that game too. At first she wondered if her neglect had something to do with the hit and run, but after a while it became clear that she was just bored with her all together. Farah’s ad was specific and straight to the point because she knew what she was looking for. A red bone. Just like her. Someone who was cute to hang out with but had enough money to pay $900 a month in rent. Yet there the dark-skinned girl sat, applying for a room she could never get. “Your engagement ring is beautiful,” prospect number eighteen said. “When are you getting married?”

“Never,” Farah said with an attitude.

“Oh ... well ... I really like the apartment.” Her eyes widened as she looked around the large, luxurious pad. And Farah’s expensive puppies, which she named Diamond and Pearl, ran around the apartment as if they owned the place. “I knew the moment I stepped into this building, it would probably be fly in here.” She nodded. “I was right.”

When she left Randy’s house the other day, although he didn’t know it, he gave her enough paper to pay rent for two months and buy new furniture. Now she was already broke. She had to be careful because he could be anywhere at any time. But her desire to live alone gave her the reason to try him even though she shouldn’t have. Years of being stuck at home and unable to have a life made her to live for the moment. Feeling like she needed more things done to her apartment, she also had the maintenance man, who had a crush on her, install new carpet. Since she was in charge and living on her own, she wanted things to be perfect.

“I think we would do good together,” prospect number eighteen said, looking intently into her eyes. “You seem like you laid back and I’m wild as a two-year-old.” She laughed. “They say opposites attract, so we should get along fine.”

“Well, I’m not looking for an opposite. I’m looking for someone just like me.” Farah lit the blunt she’d wanted to fire up since noon. Now it was five o’clock and she still hadn’t found a roommate worthy of splitting it with. One thing was for sure: she damn sure wasn’t giving none to the bitch in front of her. “Now I’m glad you like my place and all, but you can’t stay here.” Farah inhaled smoke and allowed it to exit her lungs in a pillow-like cloud. “Sorry, but it would never work because I’m moody and you probably would take it the wrong way.”

Prospect number eighteen frowned. “I deal with moody people all day. I’m a bartender.”

“Well, you wouldn’t be able to deal with me.” She paused. “Besides, the room is taken.”

“I been here for fifteen minutes answering all your bullshit-ass questions and you tell me this now?” She was pissed the fuck off and it showed in the way the lines formed on her forehead. “Why didn’t you say that shit before? Instead of wasting a bitch’s time?”

“I didn’t want to be rude at first, but now I don’t care. Because at the end of the day, you read what I was looking for, yet you came anyway. Now ... is there anything else?”

Prospect number eighteen rolled her eyes and grabbed her cell phone from her purse. “Naw, I’ma call my cousin to come pick me up. Since you seem so occupied with your blunt and all.” She shook her head. “You didn’t even offer a bitch a hit.”

“Can you do that out in the hallway?”

“No ... I can’t.” She dialed a number and put the phone to her ear. “And if you keep talking shit, I’ma have my cousin come up in here and stomp you out in your own apartment, bitch!” She stood up and looked down at Farah, who remained seated in her brown recliner. Farah wasn’t scared of this chick at all. She just wanted things to go smoothly so she could leave. After all, why should she be mad? She already lived in Platinum Lofts. “Hey, GiGi, I’m ready.” She looked at Farah again. “Girl, this bitch was serious about that red bone shit she put in the paper. So hurry up and come get me before I hurt her.” She paused. “Thanks girl.” She put her phone back in her purse. “Is it because I’m not light skinned?” she said out of nowhere. “That you won’t let me live here?”

“Yes.”

“You know ... I started not to even come because of your ad, but I was hoping I could change your mind.”

“How could you change my mind? You don’t even know me.” She glowered. “I was specific about what I was looking for. If anything you wasted your own time.”

“I figured anybody requesting a roommate who is a red bone is shallow. I guess I was right. What you have against dark-skinned people anyway?”

“What difference does it make? The room is taken and I don’t want you to live with me. Damn!” Prospect number eighteen was heated and Farah thought it was funny. Had she not applied for a room that didn’t meet her qualifications, none of this would be happening. “Is your cousin on the way? ’Cause I’m expecting more candidates in a minute.”

“I thought you said it was taken.”

She caught Farah in a lie. “It is.”

“But you said more candidates are coming.”

“Oh, my God! You’re fucking blowing me!” Farah got up and moved toward the door and prospect number eighteen was right on her heels. When she turned around she looked like she was about to hit her. Farah opened the door wide and was shocked to see the cousin on the other side.

The cousin rolled her eyes at Farah and looked at prospect number eighteen and said, “You ready? ’Cause I double parked outside.”

“Hey, cousin!” Prospect number eighteen grinned. “Yeah, I’m ready. I just feel like stomping this bitch out before I leave, though.”

“What we waiting on?” the cousin said, trying to step into her apartment.

“I don’t know who y’all think I am, but I can’t be moved.” She went into her pocket and flicked a switchblade. When prospect number eighteen saw it next to her pussy her heart jumped. Then Farah opened her mouth to show the small razor sitting on her wet pink tongue. It was the one thing she took from her dead future mother-in-law that she never stopped using, except once. The one time she didn’t have it in her mouth she almost lost her life with Tank, a fuckup she continued to pay for. “I guarantee you I could slice both of y’all quicker than a honey-glazed ham. Now get the fuck out of my face and house.” Farah was starting to have second thoughts about staying with another female. Maybe she would do good to move in with Randy after all.

They both looked at Farah and the knife and ran down the hallway. On their way out they bumped into another girl coming toward Farah’s door. She tucked in the knife, and readjusted her tongue blade before prospect number nineteen could see anything. “I take it neither one of them got the room.” Prospect number nineteen giggled.

“Not even close,” Farah said. “Anyway, come in. My name is Farah Cotton.”

“Pleased to meet you.”

Farah’s nineteenth candidate looked the part. She was light skinned with long hair and was very attractive to look at. Farah was sure that if Coconut saw her she’d be jealous because she and Farah looked so much alike they could be sisters. Prospect number nineteen walked inside slowly, examining the fly apartment. Farah saw a smile spread over her face as she looked at the high ceilings, large windows, and expensive leather furniture. When she eyed the floor, Farah caught her examining the new plush cream carpeting before she took a seat on the sofa. “Wow ... I had no idea it would be so nice in here.” She looked at the ceiling again. “Especially since it’s still in the—”

“Hood.” Farah laughed, finishing her sentence. “You know they doing a lot to DC now, girl. They renovated so many apartment buildings that in a little while, black people won’t be able to afford to live anywhere on earth. I know I don’t give a fuck though. Half of them don’t know how to take care of nice shit anyway.”

Prospect number nineteen frowned. “What you mean? You think all black people are ghetto?”

“No, just most of them.”

Prospect number nineteen decided to keep her comments to herself. “Anyway, you have a really nice place. I feel like I walked into an episode of
Cribs.
As she adjusted on the leather sofa, it softly groaned.

Farah giggled at her comment. “Thank you.” She grabbed the blunt in the ashtray. “You smoke?”

“Naw.” She shook her head. “Not anymore.”

“You sure? It’s some good shit. My friend Coconut got a line to the best loud DC has to offer. Between me and you, I think she’s growing the shit in her house. You sure you don’t want a hit?” She shook her head again. Farah put the blunt out and picked up the applications on the table. She was blowing her already because if a bitch didn’t like to get high, she couldn’t trust her. “So what’s your name?”

“Nadia Gibson.”

She located her application and scanned over it. “Okay, Nadia, why do you wanna live here?”

“Because it’s fly for one.” She looked around again. “And for two it’s close to my job.”

“I noticed you left what you do for a living blank.” She scanned the document briefly. “Any reason why?”

“I used to work as a customer service rep for Verizon. But I left them mothafuckas a long time ago. People like to keep up too much shit in call centers.”

“Oh ... I used to work for Verizon too. Well ... for two days anyway. It was a summer position.”

“Wow ... not even here for five minutes and already we have shit in common.” She paused. “Where do you work now?”

“I’m unemployed.”

“Unemployed?” Nadia frowned. “Well, if I stay here, how you gonna help with your part of the rent? And bills?”

“My mother helps me out a lot. And there’s always a nigga lurking in the background, willing to help a bitch out too.” Farah cackled. Nadia didn’t so much as grin. “Anyway.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll always have my portion so if I choose you to live here with me, that won’t be a problem.”
This bitch got me fucked up. This my mothafuckin’ apartment. Not the other way around.

“Your mamma gonna help you out forever?” She frowned.

“As long as I keep her secret.”

Silence.

“You sure that’s gonna work?” she continued. “I mean, I had a roommate awhile back and things didn’t end well because she couldn’t pay her part of the bills. I’m not willing to get into that situation again.”

She seemed uncomfortable and suddenly Farah felt like she was interviewing for the room. “It has been working so far. Me and my mother have an understanding.” Farah put the papers on the table and wiped her sweaty hands on her velour pants. “I mean, is that a problem for you? It is my apartment and you are looking for a place to stay. Right?”

Nadia thought about it for a while and said, “No... .” She shook her head rapidly. “It should be fine if you reassure me you won’t be late on your rent each month. That’s the only way I’ll stay here.”

Bitch, you don’t even got the room yet.

“It s just that I’m looking for stability, especially with having the type of job I do now. The last thing I wanna do is pack up everything and have to move again in a few months.”

“What do you do for a living now?”

“I’m a homicide detective for the DC police department. I’ve been there for five years.”

The meeting was officially over.

Farah looked at the blunt on the table, which she’d offered the officer a few moments earlier. No wonder she didn’t accept. She was a cop. She could never live there, especially after what happened to Zone. What was to stop her from telling DC’s finest if she ever learned how he really died? “It’s taken!” Farah blurted.

The officer frowned. “What’s taken?”

“The room.”

She leaned in to be sure she heard her correctly. “But why didn’t you say that before? When I first got here?”

“I’m telling you now. You can’t live here. There ain’t even enough room.”

She stood like the last girl and looked down at Farah. “It’s the cop thing, isn’t it? And the fact that you smoke weed. Most people I know smoke, so it’s not even a problem. Trust me. You can do whatever you want, just as long as you don’t kill anybody.”

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