Loyal to His Lies Read online

  I lay on the couch, hoping Cidney would cry herself back to sleep, but I ended up running like lightning speed to her room once she started hyperventilating with her cry. I might not have known how to soothe her, but I fa damn sho’ didn’t want something happening to her on my clock. The last thing my dope-hustling ass needed was a child abuse charge. I was ready to knock Zaria’s head off for being slick and leaving her baby alone with me. I might have played the role of Cidney’s daddy, but I wasn’t fa sho’ if she was my seed. I was just being a stand-up dude since I knew that I’d stood up in her without a condom on plenty of times.

  Cidney was tangled up in her receiving blanket and beet red by the time I made it to her crib. “Please, God, let her be straight,” I prayed as I scooped her out of it and sat down in the rocking chair. I remembered putting this entire nursery together, from the paint down to the tiniest decoration. Zaria worked a nigga’s back broke while she was knocked up, and had me crossing off days on my own calendar.

  Although I wasn’t sure if I was her father or not, I cradled Cidney close to my chest until she calmed down. I couldn’t front and act like I didn’t have an attachment to her or love her. I was by her momma’s side when she was born.

  “Hey, Princess. Daddy missed you.” I finally took her off my chest and kissed her forehead. She smelled just like baby products. Crazy or not, Zaria had been taking great care of Cidney. That’s the one thing I hadn’t been able to complain about.

  After Cidney made a few gurgling noises at me, she started back crying, but her screams got louder than they were when I first got woken up. I knew it was because she wasn’t used to me and wanted her momma.

  “It’s okay, Princess. I want your stank-ass momma to get back here too.” I empathized with her, then went in search for my cell phone.

  I snatched it off the coffee table, entered the lock code, then hit SEND on Zaria’s number on my home screen. “If she doesn’t answer, though, I’m gonna take you to meet your soon-to-be step-mommy,” I said out loud, knowing my secret was safe with Cidney.

  After three or four rings, Zaria picked up, but I could barely hear her through Cidney’s screams.

  This babysitting shit is for the birds indeed, I thought to myself.

  “Hello? Hello?” I tried screaming into the phone over Cidney.

  “Hey, baby. What’s up?” she nonchalantly questioned, not knowing how truly pissed I was at her.

  “Don’t ‘yeah, what’s up’ me, girl. Where are you at?”

  “Whoa!” she yelled into the phone. “Is that how you greet your child’s mother? The one who pushed life out of her body after going through a rough pregnancy for your black, ungrateful ass?” She continued to drag that same tired story of her claim to fame into the ground.

  “No, that is how I greet an ungrateful-ass woman who cannot stop playing immature games,” I fired back. “I’m not trying to hear shit you are saying unless it is ‘I am on my way,’ Zaria. You hear this baby crying.” I continued trying to rock and soothe our child to the best of my hood-hand ability. “So, get here and do yo’ damn job. You were the one slipping on yo’ pills for her, so you claim.” I purposely pushed her buttons, still salty about the alleged birth control failure bullshit she’d served me along with the positive pregnancy test.

  “Aw, nigga, shut up and miss me with all that bullshit you love to bring up from the past. If you didn’t want a baby by me, you should have put a condom on. I never begged you to run up in me raw, nor did I hold you down while you filled me up with your sperm. You knew what you were doing.”

  “And you knew what you were doing when you told a nigga you were popping birth control pills but wasn’t. I might be a street nigga, but I ain’t dumb. I know you wasn’t doing nothing but lying so I wouldn’t strap up. So, with that being said, hurry up and bring your tricky ass back home to your daughter.”

  With Cidney refusing to stop fussing, I was unable to clearly think through one thought.

  “Whatever. I will be there when I get there. Mommies need a break too,” she annoyingly sang into the phone. It was obvious that Zaria was enjoying finally being able to force me into a corner. I was usually the one with the upper hand in our lopsided relationship.

  “And what the fuck am I supposed to do with her and all this yelling?”

  “Come on, Nardo. You are making this way harder than it should really be. Calming a cranky baby down is not a difficult task or as hard as you are making it. You do not need a rocket scientist’s brain to figure the shit out.” Zaria continued being disrespectful. “She is either wet or hungry. The diapers are in her bedroom, and the formula is in the kitchen.” Zaria giggled her last few words before ending the call on me.

  There was no need to wonder why I hadn’t been around here hitting Zaria off. What guy doesn’t want to lock and key their baby momma, cutting her off from the whole world? In my case, however, it was best just to pay and be gone. Besides, this responsibility shit was too far in for me. Calling her back, I was ready to go through the phone and snap her neck in two.

  “Hey, man, look.” I started off calmly, trying not to scare Cidney again. “You are really testing my patience. You already know how I hustle and that I have things to do. You are holding me up. Where in the fuck are you at so I can drop this baby off to you?” I asked through clenched teeth. I was ready to explode.

  She burst out laughing. “I wish you would be that petty, Nardo. I’ll see you later because right now, I’m at where I’m at and doing what I do.”

  “Quit playing games with me, Z. I swear fo’ God, you pissing me off.”

  “Ugh, well you better get yo’ attitude together real quick. I don’t want that toxic vibe around my daughter.” She giggled then hung up.

  Oh, it was on. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her and teach her a well-deserved lesson. Playing me for a sucka was not an option I was willing to roll with.

  Quit thinking with yo’ dick. There was no one to blame but me. This was not her first act of bossiness, but I kept coming back for more. Arguing with her had become pointless. With her ghetto-girl attitude and the poisonous pussy between her legs, our relationship had become a constant battle of bickering and fucking.

  She thought this bullshit was a joke. I had loot floating around in the streets to pick up, plus a life of my own. Babysitting was not involved in any part of my routine, so off rip I was on fire. She had some audacity and nerve to be out in the streets, blowing my cash and preventing me from making it at the same time.

  I was growing weary of Zaria. With all the drama her spoiled ass was putting me through being insecure, a straight nagging bitch, but more than all my old-school chick, her days of pimping me for dollars and dick were numbered. If I would’ve known her cat trap was this polluted with problems, there was no way in hell she would’ve outshined Melanie.

  Z once had strength and confidence, something I admired in my main girl, as I was a street hustler. My life in the hood depended on a girl that could keep it rough, real, and cutthroat. She once held me down and showed me the utmost respect. Up until she waddled up to me knocked up, I thought I’d chosen a winner. Zaria was cute, nothing super spectacular to write home about, but she was loyal to the team, no questions asked. With me, that went far in the game.

  But as of late, I was tired of constantly defending myself to her and dealing with the calculated tantrums. Hell yeah, I was stepping out and slinging my dick with other chicks. I am a man, and keeping it one-hundred, we need different pussy flavors on a regular to keep shit in our worlds settled. Zaria should have been playing the role I had designed for her as my wifey, instead of trying to be my master and leash a dog down.

  Looking down at a semi-settled Cidney, I stared at her closely, searching for one feature, one baby hair, or one small facial expression that mirrored mines. I’d never had a paternity test and was just going off of Zaria’s word, praying that this child was not a scheme or plot for continued cash flow. Seeing nothing but her mom’s traits, I
pitied the little girl, knowing she would grow up just like the skeezer who’d gotten lucky enough to steal and trap me.

  Feeling my phone vibrating, I hurried to snatch it from my holster, fearing it would throw her into another tantrum.

  “Yo, what it do, boss?” Izzi said.

  “Shit, I can’t call it. Zaria done up and pulled a shake move on me while I was passed out. Ain’t no telling when she plans on marching back in here, so I’m stuck with the baby till whenever.” I accepted the bittersweet reality. I couldn’t stand letting my money dangle in the streets, but if this was my daughter, not being a part of her life was not an option.

  “Well, it ain’t nothing but business on this end, dude. You already know I’m holding the block down and keeping these boys in line.” He referenced the small crew we ran.

  Izzi was a goon, my partner in the crime-infested streets of Detroit, and my right-hand man. It was not nothing I didn’t trust him with, and I knew he had the block sewn up and on lock.

  “A’ight, cool. I ain’t worried. I’m more than pissed that her ass caught me slipping.” My aggravation was clear, but my manz already knew what popped between me and Zaria.

  “I feel you. Baby momma is always putting you through the wringer. I see your strong arm is weak.”

  “Later for all that. This about to be her last show with my ass. I’m ’bout fed up with her fuckin’ games.”

  “All right, guy. Enough of that loddy-doddy babble, man, because you ain’t through. So, when you break free from diaper camp, I’ll be on the block. And try not to get caught slipping next time,” Izzi jokingly warned before hanging up the phone.

  After laying Cidney down into one of the many cradle, comfort, shut-a-baby-up gadgets her moms had forced me to buy so she could front at the baby shower, I turned the volume on the television down then got back comfortable on the couch. I might’ve tripped about spending a grip on her furniture back when she was whining for a luxury set, but the money was well worth it. I maxed and relaxed like a king whenever I came to smash.

  Checking my missed calls and texts, I knew I was not the only one pissed by Zaria temporarily sitting me down. Spice, my island jump-off chick, had been calling my cell repeatedly for the last hour and texting to ask what time I would be home. I had met her during Zaria’s last trimester of pregnancy and had been fucking around with her since the baby actually dropped. Her son had been begging to meet Cidney since he saw a picture of her.

  Spice knew about Zaria and that I visited with Cidney for a few hours through the week, but she was not down with the sister-wives sensation. Though she had been understanding, taking major losses on account of trying to stand by my side while I stood strong by Zaria’s for Cidney, Spice would be screaming my ear off and begging to tag along whenever I came over here if she knew I was still slipping up in Zaria. I was having my cake and eating at the same time, with two loyal women.

  Spice and Zaria were similar in a lot of ways. They both had feisty personalities, short tempers, and were possessive over their man. They both went against their families to be with me. Whereas Zaria’s relationship with her mother had healed over time, Spice’s father still had not forgiven her, and she was still suffering behind his decision.

  Spice’s father was gang affiliated and a true narcotics trafficker. I had no idea Spice was raised by or even knew a Jamaican don when I approached her big-booty ass. I found out when he came through her door and slapped her around for sleeping with a black man that was born on American soil. Spice’s father did not care that I pushed dope to put food into my mouth and clothes onto my back, but he fa sho’ cared that his youngest daughter was going against the grain by not being with a man from their culture.

  Her family was not enthused by her choice to raise their only grandson out of true Jamaican culture and on American soil, but deserting the man who’d stolen her heart and pumped her pussy dry was a joke she refused to take seriously. She was cut off for a punishment, which sank Spice. Growing up, he’d made it possible for Spice to be wealthy, have tokens and small treasures from all over the world, and to be educated alongside the country’s most political elite citizens. If she wanted to squander that with the less fortunate and those beneath her bloodline against his wishes, he couldn’t tolerate the continued connection. I’d been holding her down heavy ever since. We’d been clear, with no beefs, since I looked out for her little boy, but lately she’d been on a nigga tough about making us one hundred percent official.

  “Oh, boy. Look who decided to come back to life.” As any female I dealt with hated me disappearing, she was no different.

  “Yeah, what’s happening, ma?”

  “Nothing, but I have been blowing your phone up for almost two hours,” she slightly overexaggerated. “Where are you?” I could hear the honest-given feistiness she’d inherited from her pops ready to come out.

  “I’m locked down with the baby right now, and after that, I’ve gotta catch up with Izzi on the block.” I shut down her hopes of me coming straight to her neck of the woods for a quickie.

  Even though Zaria made my nerves boil, she’d set me straight and proper with her head game. I was not in a rush to get home and get a nut off with Spice. That was the greatest perk of having two main women.

  “I wish you would kick her ass to the curb already,” Spice argued. “She is always pulling some ol’ off-the-wall type shit. These American girls can be so uncouth.” To hear her go in on Zaria could be hilarious at times.

  I held Spice and her kid down. Li’l fella even looked at me like a daddy. I would be damned if my own blood child couldn’t call me out like he could. I was quick to put her in her place.

  “Naw, never that. You already know me and my baby moms are gonna keep it tight for the little one. The bitch makes me sick, but I will not leave her out here on the solo tip struggling.” I kept it real, cutting eyes over at Cidney. “I’m not even cut like that. And since I kick it with your son, you should be happy that I’m not.”

  “Me being thankful and stupid are two different things, Renard. Of course I am thankful for you being there for my son, but please don’t mistake the two.” She was starting to sound like Zaria. “Be honest with me if you are banging her, because it seems like you are.” Spice caught me off guard. “I don’t care what you say, because I am close to giving you an ultimatum that involves you having to make a choice to stay away from there. You can petition the court for parental rights and cut her ass out.” Spice sounded like she was outlining a weekly task list for me.

  “Hey, we can kill this conversation now that you brought up court. Even Zaria knows to keep the law and its affiliates up out of my business.” Taking a few deep breaths, I was trying to gain some control so I didn’t blow up on Spice. “Listen up. You do not know me as well as you think you know me if you think trying to control the moves I make with ol’ girl is an option. You don’t have that power and never will. I’m not about to run my GPS coordinates down to you or anyone else.” I instantly got pissed because she was starting to remind me of Zaria’s crazed ass.

  As the line went silent, my island honey was hanging onto every word falling from my lips. One ego-having, wannabe-alpha woman was allowed to speak out of turn, and I was fighting tooth and nail to get her under control. Spice didn’t have room for slip-ups, please believe.

  “Like I said earlier, I’ll be through there later tonight.” Spice needed a reminder that I was not for the games and bullshit she was accustomed to dishing out to the peasants in her hometown. Dexter ran through my veins, and that made me more vengeful than any dread-rocking wannabe on any day.

  “Have it your way. I’m about to walk into the nail salon and get pampered since you’re not home to make me feel good.” She still continued to get salty, not expecting me to have a face-to-face conversation with her later.

  Today was not gonna be labeled as the day both chicks I banged played me for some punk-type-ass nigga. Naw, this wasn’t it!

  “I suggest you take s
ome down time and get that little island attitude under check. I mean it.” Ending the call and tossing the phone back onto the coffee table, I saw Cid scramble and suggest she might soon be waking up. I couldn’t wait to bust camp and get back to handling business in the streets. Everything was off.

  Leaning back and folding my arms, I began to watch the clock, becoming enraged with each tick. It was well after three o’clock, and Zaria hadn’t called back or walked through the door. Something deep in my bones told me that when she did, it was gonna be some heavyweight furniture moving going down.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Zaria

  Tossing my phone into the brand-new bag I purchased with a few of the dollars I’d slipped from Nardo’s pocket, I rolled my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I had to calm myself down and control the urge I was feeling to call him back and go straight the hell off. I had been enjoying the small window of time I’d had out of the house not having to carry around a car seat. I did not realize how much I missed rolling the windows down and letting my hair fly with the wind to some loud-ass R&B or rap blaring through the speakers.

  Right after I finished pleasing Nardo with some lip, mouth, tongue, and throat action, I had slipped some cash out of his pocket and then went out the front door just as I’d planned all along. The few hundred bucks treated me to a cute little purse, a matching pair of sandals, and some new outfits to stunt in. Although I have a head full of long hair, I love experiencing different styles and changing up my look. I will rock a bun with a bang, a sew-in down to my ass, and even a twenty-seven-piece short-do if the cosmetologist can lay the tracks properly. The only thing I will not do is walk around looking like a box of Crayola exploded on top of my head.

  Hitting rewind and playback on my car radio, I turned the volume up to the max and started back singing along with my jam. K. Michelle knows she can hit some helluva notes and have a sister feeling empowered and all black girl magically, which is exactly what I needed to feel right about now. When Nardo wasn’t working my body out, he was working my nerves out and giving me migraines. I might be wrong as hell for how I dipped out, leaving him with Cidney, but it was not like I had a kid on him and needed a babysitter. She was just as much his responsibility as she was mine. It was a shame that Nardo couldn’t be a grown man on his own.