The Ex Factor: A Novel (13 page)

“Imani!” Jamal screamed, pushing the bedroom door open and running into the room. “What you doin' to my mommy, punk?” Jamal jumped on Walik and started hitting and kicking him on the leg. Before Walik could get a hold on Jamal, Jamal bit him on the knee. “Shit!” Walik screamed. He took his free hand and pushed Jamal to the floor.

“Oh hell naw!” Imani screamed. She tried to release herself from Walik's grip, so she kicked him in the dick as hard as she could. Immediately he let her go and grabbed his crotch.

“Don't you ever in your life put your hands on my baby!” Imani screamed.

Still in pain, Walik stood up straight and slapped Imani so hard that spit flew from her mouth and immediately she started coughing.

Jamal jumped up and down. “Niggah, you don't know me! King Kong ain't got nothin' on me!” He pounded his chest. “Now, don't make me regulate up in here!” He charged toward Walik. Stopping him midway, Walik grabbed Jamal by his pajama-top collar and twisted it with his fist. He lifted Jamal in the air and looked at Imani. “If you come over here I'ma forget who you are and I'ma beat the shit outta you!”

Walik turned to stare Jamal in the face. “I'm your fuckin' father and I will kill you before I ever let you beat my ass! Any li'l niggah that puts his hands on his father is a punk.”

“I'm not no punk, I'm the man of this house!” Jamal screamed. “This is my hood, niggah, death before dishonor, remember that?”

“Hell yeah I remember that, I'm the one who told you that! But I'm home now, I'm the man of the house, and I'm your father. So don't you ever put your hands on me again, 'cause if you do I'ma beat you like a niggah in the street! Understand?”

Jamal didn't answer.

“Understand?” Walik repeated.

Jamal didn't know whether to answer or not, so he looked toward Imani. “I'm talkin' to you, not your mother!” Walik snatched his face around. “Now, do you understand?”

Not knowing what else to do, Jamal started to cry.

“Don't cry, niggah; you was all tough a minute ago. Now you wanna cry? You don't ever bring it to a man unless you can take him or you willing to take what the fuck he gon' give you. And see me, I'll break your chest open if you ever in your life jump on, at, or even look at me too hard. Understand?”

Jamal was silent, his tears splashing onto Walik's hands.

“Answer me,” Walik said sternly, shaking Jamal.

“Yeah!” Jamal cried.

“Ai'ight then.” He placed Jamal back on the floor. “Now go in your room. This is between me and your mother.”

Jamal ran over to Imani and hugged her around the waist.

“I'm okay, Jamal,” she assured him. “Go back to your room, we have to get ready for your grandmother's wedding.”

Jamal was reluctant to leave. He walked backward out of the room, staring Walik down every step of the way. Walik slammed the door in Jamal's face and locked it.

“Imani! Y'all gettin' high up in this, ma'fucker? Trying to jump me? Do you know that niggahs die for less than this? Y'all some bold ma'fuckers, for real.” Walik couldn't believe it. “I swear if y'all was niggahs in the street you would be resting in peace.”

“Now you wanna kill us.” Imani wiped tears from her eyes. “I don't even know who you are anymore.” She broke down and started sobbing.

“Oh please.” Walik started pacing the room. “Cut that crying shit out! You don't know who the hell I am?”

“No I don't.” Snot ran from her nose.

“I'm your fuckin' man.” Walik stopped in his tracks. “But I will leave yo' ass. I'm not gon' be going through this shit. Now, either you with me or you not. Shante is pregnant, period. I can't change that… and I'm sorry… but at least I'm a man and can admit it. And I'm trying, Imani, I am. But I'm not the type of niggah to have to keep beating yo' ass, 'cause I'll kill you. Remember that I will bury yo' fuckin' ass.”

“Walik—”

“Don't fuckin'
Walik
me! Karate-choppin' me and shit.” Walik ran his hand across his forehead. It was sore to the touch. “This li'l niggah,” he pointed toward the door, “talkin' about King Kong ain't got nothin' on him.”

“So what,” Imani snapped. “I betchu he got heart.”

“I betchu he get his neck broke and if he ever raise his hand at me, I will make sure that I break my fist in his chest. I can't believe that I wanted to marry your fuckin' ass!” Walik shook his head.

“Oh, we ain't gettin' married now?” Imani felt like kicking Walik's ass all over again.

“Yo, you stress a niggah too much and every time I turn around I gotta be puttin' my hands on you. I'm not trying to go to jail for some dumb shit.”

“Now our relationship is dumb? I been with you for ten years and this is what the fuck you do. And to top it all off, this whole shit is dumb to you?”

“Spare me.”

“Why you doing this, Walik?” More tears filled Imani's eyes. “I can't take it, we've been together for ten years, we have a son, and I wanna get married.”

“Okay, you know what? You gettin' on my nerves! This is why I wanted to stop fuckin' with you. This is why I started fuckin' with Shante to begin with, 'cause she ain't fuckin' nag me. She know how to suck my dick and shut the hell up. But you—it's always an issue—always. You doin' karate on a niggah and shit. I just came home from a bid, I come scoop you and my li'l man, and
we
hang out over my mom's. Me, you, and Jamal, not some other bitch… not Shante… you. Who my family recognize as my girl?”

Imani held her head down. “Me.”

“Ai'ight then. And Jamal look just like me, so that ain't even no question. But for real—for real—if you don't fall the fuck back and stop pressuring me I'ma straight leave yo' ass. I ain't come home for this.”

“All right, Walik.” Imani wiped her eyes. “I'm sorry.” She walked over to him and started stroking his dick. She felt it hardening.

“Yeah whatever. I'm leaving.” He was trying his best not to show how good Imani was making him feel.

“I don't want you to leave.” She slid to her knees.

“Why not?” He felt her unzipping his pants.

“ 'Cause I got something for you.” She pulled his pants and his
boxers down to his ankles. Then she proceeded to lick around his balls and the inner parts of his thighs. “You like that, daddy?”

“I don't know yet.” Walik was fighting to keep his eyes from rolling to the back of his head. “What else you got?”

“Uhmm, let's see …” Imani started licking his dick and making popping sounds as she reached the tip.

“Oh shit!” Walik moaned. “Goddamn. You got a mean head game.”

“Oh, I got a mean head game,” she said in between licks and sucks. “You like it?”

“I love that shit, baby.”

“What's my name?” Imani demanded. “Say it while I suck ya dick.”

“Wifey baby…Ma'fuckin' wifey…”

“E
VERYBODY GRAB YOUR man, the thief in the night is here!” Mama Byrd yelled as Monica walked into Celeste's bedroom. “Hey baby.” She smiled at Monica while slipping on her cream-and-blue lace-trimmed duster for the wedding. “Peaches was just talkin' about you.”

“Mama Byrd.” Buttah cut her eyes while puckering her lips. “Don't lie on me.”

“I thought you said your name wasn't Peaches.” Mama Byrd smirked.

“It ain't.”

“Well, then why you in this? Mind ya bid'ness.”

“Would y'all please,” Monica said, agitated. “Celeste, let me talk to you for a minute.” She motioned Celeste to step to the side. “Look, I really need to apologize for last night and this morning. It really was nothing—really—I know
we
fell out—but Sharief was the one who talked me into coming back in because, as he said, this is about Mommy and not us. And for that reason alone”—she arched her eyebrows—“I came back in here. Yes, I'm still pissed—don't get it twisted. But I wouldn't do no crazy-ass
shit in your house and disrespect you—to that extent—because I know what you've been going through. So I need you to understand that last night Sharief and I were just talking and we both fell asleep.”

“Girl,” Celeste caressed Monica's cheek, “no matter what we go through, you're my sister. I trust you and I know you wouldn't do anything like that.”

Monica was expressionless as she replied, “
Like I said, Celeste
, last night was nothing.”

“Celeste,” Starr interrupted, “gimme my cell phone so I can call Imani.” Tears filled Starr's eyes. “This is my wedding day and I gotta be looking for my child to see if she's coming, let alone be a bridesmaid. What did I do so wrong?”

“Look, Ma,” Celeste said, turning away from Monica, “I really can't deal with a pity party today and quite frankly I don't wanna hear about Imani's li'l selfish ass. You're the only one with hope for the chick 'cause the way I see it, if you ain't some li'l bum niggah with a big dick who's selling drugs on the street then you don't mean a thing.”

“Not today, Celeste,” Monica said while helping Mama Byrd fix her duster. “Not today.”

“I heard what you said,” Imani announced as she entered the room, throwing her bridesmaid's gown on the bed and placing a hand on her hip. “Don't be worried about the size of my man's dick; you need to be concentrating on yo' niggah's dick, trick— excuse me, Jamal.” Jamal covered his mouth and snickered. “You know what,” Imani went on, rolling her eyes, “this a buncha bull-shit, I'ma let this go for now. But don't think I'ma let y'all talk shit to me all day.”

“Imani!” Starr stood with her fishnet stockings in her hand. “Do I look like a piece of the goddamn furniture? Watch your li'l nasty mouth before you get knocked in it! I swear if I wasn't getting married I would beat yo' ass down! Where have you been?”

“Mommy,” Imani whined, “I'm sorry about cussin' but
somebody
always got something to say. Anyway, wouldn't nobody come and get me yesterday. I called here but didn't get an answer.”

“Imani.” Jamal tugged on her arm. “Didn't you turn your phone off ?”

“No, I didn't.”

“Oh.” Jamal stood quietly.

“Anyway, Ma,” Imani continued, “I didn't have a way here.”

“Stop lying,” Monica chimed in. “I'm not lying.”

Jamal looked at Imani. “That sound like a lie to me, Imani. That don't sound like the truth.” He shook his head.

“I'ma slap you!” Imani squinted.

“Oh hold up.” Mama Byrd stood with her hands on her hips. “Ain't nobody gon' do no slappin' up in this ma'fucker.”

“Imani,” Monica snapped, “don't come up here lying. Just don't open your mouth. Just get dressed.”

“Oh, you frontin' on me in front of everybody? Oh, you playing me?” Imani was shocked. “I thought we were better than that, Monica.”

“You want to translate that into educated English?” Celeste smirked. “Otherwise, shut the fuck up!”

“You shut the fuck up!”

“Both of y'all shut the fuck up!” Starr yelled. “Now, Imani, how did you get here today?”

“Walik,” Jamal said, with a frown on his face. “Walik got his boy car and dropped us off. Mama-Starr, you know I can't stand Walik. He had me by the neck and slammed me into the wall.” Jamal balled up his fist. “Mama-Starr, he was like,
You li'l punk, I'll mess you up!
I was crying and everything—you shoulda saw me. And you know what? He and Imani were fighting too. I had to break free and save her.”

“What?” everybody screeched.

“It wasn't even like that,” Imani said defensively. “He ain't have him slammed up against the wall. Walik was just playing with us.”

“That wasn't no game to me, Imani, I don't play like that. Plus, we were both crying,” Jamal insisted.

“Shut up, Jamal!” Imani snarled.

“Remember, Imani?” Jamal continued with his story, oblivious to his mother's warning. “You were like,
Why you doin' this to me, Walik. I love you. I wanna be your wife… Ahhhh Ahhhh…God help me…Jesus Lord save me…
For a minute I thought you had the Holy Ghost. 'Cause you were like this.” He fell on the floor with his arms stretched out. “
Help me!…Help me!
And then I came to save you, because if I didn't he was gon' beat us both down. You remember, Imani?”

“I remember that I told you about lyin'!” Imani snapped. “
And I told you
about tellin' my business.
And I told you
what goes on in my house stays in my damn house! Now don't get slapped. Matter of fact get your li'l ass off the floor, lookin' crazy. Take your tux and get yo' short ass downstairs with your uncle Sharief so he can help you get dressed.” Imani yanked Jamal off the floor, gave him his tux, and pushed him toward the door. “Get yo' ass outta here!”

“But Imani—” Jamal said.

“What did I say?” Imani squinted. Jamal turned around and ran down the stairs.

Imani closed the door behind him, and Starr started yelling, “What the hell is going on with you! You were fighting
again
and carrying on in front of my baby?”

“What's new, Ma?” Celeste chimed in.

“Ma,” Imani said, rolling her eyes at Celeste, “Jamal doesn't know what he's talking about. Jamal is always lyin'.”

“He never lies, Imani,” Monica interrupted. “He may exaggerate, but my nephew doesn't lie.”

“Well, he's getting confused with the fight I had with Shante.”

“That baby ain't confused,” Starr said. “And what is he talking about with Walik bringing you down here?”

“Because he did.” Imani twisted her neck.

“Girl,” Starr growled, “you got the right one, 'cause it'll be live
in this ma'fucker here! Now take it down. I thought that sorry sack of shit was in prison.”

“He is not a sorry sack of shit, thank you!” Imani snapped.

“Ma, there was a get-free party for him last night,” Monica said sarcastically, placing baby's breath in her hair and looking at Imani as she checked herself in the mirror.

“Oh, you trying to be funny?” Imani said as she started getting dressed.

“Does this sound funny to you?” Monica sucked her teeth. “I don't know about anybody else, but me personally, I'm sick and tired of you being so fuckin' irresponsible and my nephew being put through—”

“A buncha bullshit,” Celeste blurted out.

“Exactly,” Monica agreed.

Imani shot Monica the evil eye and said, “Don't speak to me!”