The Ex Factor: A Novel (31 page)

“Whose room?”

“Nobody's room, how about that's my fuckin' office and your room is in New Jersey. I'm sick of 'em!”

“Well, what I wanna know is why do you sound like a single parent? Hell, you got ole boy there, shit. You snuck Celeste for his ass, make good use of 'im.”

“I don't even want to discuss that.”

“Me either, because every time I think about it, I get pissed off.”

“I have to go.”

“I'm sure you do. Bye.” Imani held the phone in her hand. She looked toward Jamal's room and shook her head.
Fuck it
, she thought,
what's the worst that can happen?
Imani dialed Kree's number and a soft female voice with a Puerto Rican accent answered on the first ring.

Oh hell no
, Imani thought as her throat filled with an iron fist. Instantly her stomach started doing back flips and she felt sick. Imani thought about hanging up but she couldn't bring herself to do it, so instead she bit her bottom lip, took a deep breath, and said, “Why the fuck is you answering Kree's phone?!”

“Who is this?!” the soft Puerto Rican voice suddenly became harsh.

“Why bitch? This ain't yo' phone! Now put Kree on the line!”
“Quién es ése?”
Imani could hear Kree speaking Spanish in the background.

“Kree,” the girl shouted in Spanish,
“no sé quien es, pero ella quemará si yo cojo esta perra …”

“Oh hold it,” Imani snarled, “you talkin' a whole lotta ying-yang trick.” Imani was pissed that she didn't understand what the girl had said about her. “If you so bad, why don't you speak English, fuckin' lifeboat refugee! Go win a green card lottery or some shit. Translate
that
, bitch! Dumb-ass plaintain banana speakin' ho!”

“Oh you done lost every bit of your little-ass mind?!” Kree laughed in disbelief. “You loco,
Mami
?”

“Oh you just screwin' anything movin', huh?”

“Why? You jealous 'cause she don't need no help speaking Spanish?” Kree said sarcastically, as he moved his mouth from the receiver and began speaking Spanish and laughing with the girl in the background.

“Kree!” Imani screamed. “I know you not talking about me!”

“What,
no hablo Español ?
”

“You know what, fuck you, Kree!”

“Ai'ight peace.” Kree hung up.

Immediately Imani started to cry. After a few moments of feeling sorry for herself, the phone rang. “Yeah,” she sniffed.

“Yeah, look, whatever man,” Kree said defensively. “Wassup, what is it, and get to the point. I got shit to do. I brought some new sneakers and I need to lace 'em, so don't keep me on the line with you breathing in my ear and shit too long, 'cause in a few minutes I'ma hang up on you.”

“Kree—”

“And skip all the hood-rat dramatics too, ma, get to the point.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Imani asked, taken aback, “Your dick grew or some shit?”

“You got five seconds and you've already used up two.”

“You know what?” Imani took a deep breath. “Look, this is not about me, this is about my son.”

“Wassup with my li'l man?” Kree asked seriously. “He ai'ight?”

“No. He's been crying for you. He's acting up in school and all kinds of shit and he got suspended today.”

“Where's his father—the one that's going to be around for twelve more years?”

“Look, he keeps making him promises that he never keeps. Jamal loves you—he don't give a fuck about Walik—but you… he needs you.”

“You know I'll do anything for Jamal. He has nothing to do with this bullshit.”

“Well… can you come see him? Please, he needs you.” Imani took a deep breath. “I know you're not his father. I know that. And if you don't want to be bothered, I understand. But I'm asking you, please, to come and see my son.” Her throat welled up with tears and she started to cry uncontrollably. “I feel helpless, like I'm a horrible mother who can't control her son.”

“I wouldn't say all that.”

“Kree, all Jamal's life I've been running the streets, smoking weed, hanging out, and treating my son like he's a grown-ass man and not a little boy. But he is, he's only six years old and he doesn't understand that I've made bad choices, which seem to be fucking up his life. I'm begging you and I've never begged a niggah before. Please come see my baby. I know you may not want to see me. I can go in the other room when you come, but please. And I know I have a lot of shit I need to get together… and I will be…but for now it's about Jamal. Please.”

“I'll see what I can do.”

… … …

KREE STOOD IN front of Imani's apartment door, hoping his dick wouldn't rise when he saw her, but as soon as she opened the door,
he knew that his dick staying soft would be a difficult task. She wore a pair of tight jeans, and a blue T-shirt with a picture of Angela Davis with her Afro outlined in rhinestones.

When Imani looked at Kree, her nipples instantly became hard. He looked thuggishly exquisite in his gray sweat pants, matching hoody, black goose-down vest, and Tims. His hair was braided straight to the back and the scent of his Dolce & Gabbana cologne filled Imani's nose. Kree walked in and frowned when he looked at Imani. He started walking close to her until he backed her into a corner. “Let me hit you with this real quick,” his warm breath blew like a summer breeze across her face. “Don't you ever in your short-ass life call my sister a fuckin' lifeboat refugee, 'cause I promised her that the next time, I would let her left-hook the shit outta you! Now”—he took a step back—“where's my man at?”

Although Kree had just went off on her, all Imani could concentrate on was that he said the girl was his sister—she couldn't care less about anything else he'd said. Imani did all she could to keep from smiling. “Damn, hello to you too.”

“Don't be smiling at me and shit.” Kree smirked. “Where is Jamal?”

“In his room.”

Kree knocked on Jamal's room door and slightly pushed it open. When Jamal turned around and saw Kree's face, his eyes lit up. “Kree! Imani didn't break you! I'm glad you came back! Kree! Yeah, Imani! Kree is here!”

“I'm sorry I stayed away from you so long, man. I'ma have to do better with that. But check it, what's this I hear about you acting up in school?” Kree said sternly.

Jamal held his head down. “I got suspended for punching Jahaad King. He makes me sick.”

“Yo, you know it's a punk move to be fighting and messing up in school, right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“And I expect you to apologize, understand?”

“Yes.”

“School is for you to learn, not fight.”

“Yes. I'm sorry.”

Kree hugged Jamal, he ran his hand over his braids and noticed that they needed to be done. “Grab your jacket, man.” Jamal ran and grabbed his Power Rangers jacket.

“Man if you don't put that back…” Kree laughed. “Where's your goose-down vest I brought you?”

“In the closet.”

“Well put it on and let's go. We need to get our hair braided.”

“Is it ai'ight”—Kree turned to Imani—“or his father gon' mind?”

“Don't be smart.”

Imani stood back and watched Jamal's face light up as Kree grabbed him by the hand and they walked out.
I'ma dumb bitch
, she thought to herself,
how the hell did I fuck that up?

… … …

“YO, IMANI,” SABRENA
yelled while banging on the door.

“Wassup?” Imani opened the door.

“Come upstairs.” Sabrena popped her lips. “I got some smoke.”

Before Imani could answer, Walik walked up behind Sabrena. “Excuse me, big gurl.”

“Oh hell no.” Sabrena turned to Walik. “I'ma bit sick of yo' evicted ass!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Walik snapped, pointing his hand in Sabrena's face.

“You shut the fuck up! My cousin told me that yo' crazy-lookin' ass along with yo' crazy-lookin'-ass gurl and her fifty-five kids got put the fuck out, which must be the reason you been over here beggin'.”

“Walik.” Imani couldn't believe it. “That's why you came over here? You stupid no-good ma'fucker, don't even think you movin' back in this piece.”

“Who the fuck you talkin' to?” Walik pointed in Imani's face.
“I'm yo' fuckin' man. I been with you for ten goddamn years and you let your girl try and play me? You better get her the fuck out my face before I fuckin' smack the shit out of her.”

“Do it, boo,” Sabrena dared Walik, “ain't nothin' between us but air and opportunity.” She cocked her neck to the side. “Bring it.”

Imani stepped between them. “Brena, calm down. Let me talk to him for a minute, please.”

“You can talk all you want, but you need to check this niggah, 'cause I ain't in love with his ass, I will stab him.”

“Sabrena,” Imani said sternly, “I'll be upstairs in a few. Please take it down.”

“Yeah, ai'ight.” Sabrena sucked her teeth and walked toward the elevator while Imani and Walik walked inside the apartment.

“What you want? I need to do something.” Imani sucked her teeth.

Walik squinted. “Why is you actin' like this? Yo, I know I've done some fucked-up shit.”

“Oh, you know this?”

“Yeah. And I'm willing to change.”

“You're willing to change? So if I ask you something you'll tell me the truth and won't lie.”

“Yeah, baby,” he assured her, “anything you wanna know.”

“Did you marry Shante?”

Walik didn't answer.

“You can't hear?”

“Listen, a minute ago Shante and I caught a case together.”

“What the fuck you mean a minute ago?”

“The last charge I caught, she was with me. I took the rap.” Instantly Imani's heart felt like it was oozing out of her chest cavity. “I was pregnant with your child and you wouldn't even claim your own shit, but you take the rap for her?”

“Only so the feds wouldn't make her testify against me.”

“You caught state charges. I was the one who got caught with your federal shit.”

“You don't have a record, shit, you were considered a minor.”

“Ten thousand dollars and a crooked lawyer later, ma'fucker. Walik, just go home. Go somewhere and just leave me alone. Please.”

Walik grabbed Imani by the waist. “I love you.”

“Well,” she pushed his hands off her, “don't love me no more.”

“All I have to do is be faithful.” He pulled her back into his embrace.

“Faithful.” Imani twisted her lips giving him the screw face. “It's so beyond you being faithful. I just wanna be at peace. I don't want to be with you. Damn.” She pushed him in the center of his chest. “Just go home!”

“Go home? You don't wanna try anymore?” Walik was taken aback. “Wassup with that?” He placed his hand under his chin. “Oh I get it, you fuckin' that Rican niggah, right? You fuckin' him?”

“Go 'head, Walik!”

“You got my son around his ass?” Walik took his index finger and pointed into Imani's forehead, causing her neck to jerk back.

She slapped his hand. “Keep your fuckin' hands off me!”

“What you gon' do? Karate-chop me?”

“Go home!”

“Don't you wanna love me again?”

“I don't wanna love you. I just wanna leave you.”

“What you sayin'?”

“I want it to be over. You make me fuckin' crazy. Get … the… fuck… out!”

“Get the fuck out? Is that how you talk to that niggah? Is that what you say when you suckin' his dick?”

“Walik, just go home.” Imani turned to open the door. Walik walked up close behind her and yanked the back of her hair, pulling her to the floor.

“I'ma beat yo' ass!” He snatched his belt from around his waist and slapped her across the face with it.

Somehow Imani was able to grab the end of the belt long
enough to get off the floor. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I don't want you!” she screamed, her face feeling as if the belt had snatched off a strip of her skin.

The apartment was dark and Imani's eyes darted around the room. Trying desperately to find a way out, she thought about running down the fire escape, but remembered that she had it blocked by the air conditioner. “Walik, please,” she begged. “Please.”

“Please what? All these fuckin' years I was with you, bitch! And you think just because you get a new niggah, I should fuckin' go away. I ain't goin' nowhere, bitch!”

“Go home, Walik! Goddamn, can't you just leave me alone?”

“Hell no, I ain't good enough no more? You got this li'l DJ niggah and you got this niggah around my son.”

“You didn't spend no time with your son. He needs a father, Walik, and you ain't it!” Imani reached for her cell phone. “I swear to God if you don't leave I'ma call the police.”

“Oh, now you gon' call the police on me?” Walik rushed toward Imani and slapped the cell phone out of her hand. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her across the floor. Her follicles felt as if they were being snatched out. She could feel the roots ripping away from the scalp as clumps of her hair tangled between his thick fingers. “You stupid bitch! You think you just gon' fuck around and leave me. It ain't over until I say it's over!” He grabbed the belt off the floor and again slapped her with it, the buckle splashing in her face like water.

“Awwwwllllll!” she screamed, her eyelids feeling as if they were being forced shut. Struggling to fight back, Imani started swinging her arms wildly, but instead of seeming to gain control she appeared to be drowning while doing backstrokes. “I'm begging you to get off me. Please,” she cried. “Okay, okay we can work it out. Anything you want. Anything.”

“Too late!” Walik kicked Imani in the neck. “I should fuckin'
kill you!” She closed her eyes as the pain of his steel-toed-boot felt like a boulder crushing her vertebrae.

“I got something fo' yo' ass, bitch!” Without warning Walik took Imani and swung her across the room.

She took her arms and covered her face as she slammed into the wall.

“Watch this shit, bitch!”

Imani struggled to get off the floor as Walik kicked in her bedroom door. He snatched all her clothes out the closet. “I bought this shit, bitch! I did! Me! Not that new niggah!”

“Walik, please,” Imani begged, her vision coming and going. She knew she was bleeding but she didn't know from where. “Walik, what are you doing?”