Property of a Savage Page 16

  “Spare me, Maya. Not today. I'm just stressed out about having to do this shit tomorrow, okay?”

  Honestly, having to see Tempest that day had me rattled. I had not laid my eyes on her in months. Idiotically, during that time, I thought that I could live without being more than her fake fiancé. For the past four months, I had been okay with living in my own charade. However, once I’d seen her that day, the fire I felt for her was reignited. I wanted her just as desperately as I did the last time that I had been with her. Yet, I couldn’t allow our chemistry to put myself in a position to be rejected again.

  I had fallen in love with my fiancée.

  But she didn’t want anything to do with me.

  And now I had to stand at an altar and play the role that I wanted to be my reality. Tempest brought so many emotions out of me, in less than a year, than Maya had in fifteen years. I wondered how many more years I was willing to waste with a woman who would never love me. Yet, I couldn’t even be with the one who did because she was too stubborn.

  “I saw those pictures you were tagged in.” Maya was sitting on the bed, staring at the TV, disgust all over her face. “I saw how you were looking at her.”

  “I had to. You want to be kept, right? You want our kids taken care of? You want to continue to lay up all day and not work? Then I had to look like I was in love with her in those pictures.”

  Maya glared at me, snarling as she threw the remote onto the bed next to her. “Ain't that much pretending in the world. You’ve never looked at me like that in real life. You like that girl.”

  Looking at Maya, I wished that we were in love. She was a beautiful woman. Any man would be lucky to have her. Yet, for the first time in my life, I was more than willing to pass on having good luck.

  “I’m just saying; you give the bitch more energy than you give me, so you must like her.”

  Shaking my head, I started to oil my upper body with coconut oil. “I invited you to the wedding. What else do you want?”

  The smile on her face was so evil as she looked at me, slowly shaking her head. “Listen to you; you invited me. Like it’s a real fucking wedding. How ’bout I’m coming, whether you liked it or not, if you want to still be with me.”

  Nothing had really changed in the last four months between me and Maya. I had enjoyed having my kids back in the house, but the tension between me and Maya had only worsened. I had been fronting for nearly a year for a woman who didn’t see me as good enough. I was only willing to do that for one more event, when it came to Tempest, but I was no longer willing to do it with Maya.

  Maya had never been in love with me, and vice versa. We had love for one another because of our history. Yet, we had been too young when we got together to even know what the hell passion and chemistry was, or to realize that we didn’t have it. We had stayed together for our kids. It was as simple as that. Me and Maya’s relationship was just like this wedding fiasco; I had been pretending to be something I wasn’t in order to gain something I wanted so badly: my kids. And even though I’d done my best acting, it hadn’t been good enough for Maya, either.

  I had wasted nearly a year trying to better myself for two women who weren’t willing to accept me for who I was, and I was no longer willing to continue to play a part for neither Maya nor Tempest’s ungrateful asses.

  The only reason Maya had been invited to the wedding was because I was trying to ensure as much as peace possible in my home. Yet, nothing seemed to please her. I was no longer willing to fuck her, but I was a father in real life. I couldn’t trust Maya to provide for my kids the way they deserved, and since I would never take them from her, she had a spot in my life. She was no longer going to be under the impression that it was anything more. Therefore, she had been getting very little of my time and even less of this dick that she was suddenly obsessed with.

  My cell phone rang as Maya continued to nag. “Hell yea, I’m coming to that wedding. You and your fiancée got me fucked up.”

  I answered, trying to tune her out. “Hey, Ma.”

  Hearing that, Maya shut up.

  “Hey, baby.”

  Hearing my mother’s solemn expression, my forehead wrinkled with concern. “What's wrong?”

  She sighed, “Jeffrey passed.”

  My eyes bucked as I tried to come to terms with what she had just said. Even though Jeffrey was an older man, he was so active that I would’ve never expected to get this call. I plopped down on the bed, asking my mother, “When?”

  I could hear the tears in her words, as she replied, “This morning.”

  “How?”

  “Darcel tried to wake him up for work because he had missed his alarm. He wouldn’t wake up. They say it was probably a stroke, but she’s going to get an autopsy.”

  Every other word my mother said went over my head. Jeffrey was the first father figure I had ever had. He hadn’t been in my life for that long, but he had made such an impact that my heart broke as if I was getting that call about my mother.

  “Shit, I have to go. That’s Darcel calling me back,” my mother said. “You okay, baby?”

  Even though my burdens felt heavy, I answered, “I’ll be okay.”

  Sighing sadly, she replied, “All right.”

  I ended the call while holding my head in my hands. I had two forms of disappointment running through me. I was devastated that Jeffery had passed away. The world had lost a good man, and I had lost my only inkling of knowing what having a father was like. He had also given me the first opportunity to provide for my family legitimately because he believed so much in my talents, and that was gone, too.

  I didn’t even realize that I had stood up and was leaving out of the room until I heard Maya’s nagging voice. “I wasn’t done talking to you.”

  “Do you even give a fuck about what that phone call was just about and why it changed my mood?”

  Her eyes rolled. “Not really.”

  I grunted, shaking my head as I left out of the bedroom.

  Joziah’s hopeful eyes met mine as I entered the living room. “You ready, dad?”

  “For what?”

  “You said we were going to play 2K after you showered.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot. Yeah, I’m ready.”

  I wanted nothing more than a blunt and some peace and quiet. I wanted to shed tears for Jeffrey in private because I couldn’t even remember the last time I had cried as a man. But playing this game with my son, being the one thing that Jeffrey had always wanted to be—a father, made me feel ten times better, as I thought of the man who had been one to me without even knowing.

  Tempest’s words rang in my ear over and over again as Joziah turned on his game console. I couldn't get Jeffrey out of my mind. I had been shot many times, but I’d never felt like life was so short until that moment. It was too short to be spending any of those moments uncomfortably to please the next motherfucker.

  I was no longer going to take advantage of my time and being uncomfortable for the sake of others, except for my children. So, I took my phone from my pocket and sent a text to Tempest.

  Dame: I‘m not coming tomorrow. I can’t do it.

  I silenced my phone before returning it to the pocket of my shorts.

  “Ready, dad?”

  I looked over at my son’s excitement and was able to smile genuinely as I nodded. “Ready to whoop yo’ ass in this game. C’mon.”

  My pride wouldn’t let me go on with Tempest’s plan any longer. I wasn’t the type of nigga to let nobody get away with how she had talked to me. I would feel like a punk bitch if I showed up at that wedding after how she had talked to me that day. Fuck that $200,000. I had always been a hustler. Therefore, I was going to be able to figure out how to get out of the game on my own.

  No more wasting my precious time here on earth.

  Tempest Murphy

  “Awwww, Tempest. You look beautiful.”

  I stared at Erica through the three-way mirror. While sitting on the couch in the small waitin
g area, she dabbed at her leaking eyes with a tissue.

  She was the only one at the boutique during my last fitting. I had tried on several dresses with Erica and my mother, but Erica was the only one to see the dress that I had chosen.

  Looking at myself in the Galia Lahav Loretta gown, I did indeed feel like the prettiest girl at the ball. The dress was classy, yet captivating. The sweetheart neckline bodice was fitted. The dress was embellished with stunning lace appliques for a fashionable and romantic style. The mermaid skirt flowed to the floor in soft waves. Even though it was sleeveless, I felt stunning when I had tried it on six months ago because I knew that, despite the ugly scars on display, I was stunning in Dame’s eyes. I had previously always envisioned myself on my wedding day, if I’d ever gotten married, in a long-sleeved gown that hid my flaws. Yet, Dame had made me feel like I had nothing to hide. Looking at myself, at the self-esteem his presence had given me, I doubled over in tears.

  “Ooooh, Tempest.” I could hear Erica’s voice approaching me from behind. I then felt her arms wrapped around me.

  I leaned against her shoulder, bawling.

  “These don't sound like happy tears,” I heard her say as I felt her rubbing my back.

  “They aren’t.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I hurt him,” I confessed.

  She continued rubbing my back as she asked, “What do you mean?”

  “I was so happy to see him today because I hadn’t seen him in so long.”

  “I remember you telling me that a few days ago. How did things go? Not good, I am assuming.”

  “Things went terribly. He was so cold towards me. I knew that I deserved it because I kept rejecting him.”

  “I told you to stop doing that shit—”

  I pushed back, smirking into her eyes. “Not right now, Erica.”

  She bit her lip bashfully. “Okay, okay.”

  I poured, “I already feel bad.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell him how you feel?”

  “Because, even though he accepts me, I’m still scared that other people close to him won’t. Look at how Derrick hid me for years—”

  She sucked her teeth as she released me from her embrace. Folding her arms tightly, her head dramatically cocked to the side. “Clearly, Dame is much less of an idiot than Derrick is. You cannot compare the two.”

  “But what about comparing him to how things have been for me my whole life? Having to constantly push past these scars so that people see me for me and not some disfigured monster. Having to prove how smart I am, how beautiful I am so that people see me and not a victim? I look at Dame and see a fucking king. He deserves someone gracious on his arm, who won’t bring him the drama of people pointing fingers or gawking at his woman.” Using the back of my hand, I dabbed at my tears to prevent smearing my makeup.

  “Did you tell him that?”

  My pout increased. “No. He told me that he had invited his girlfriend to the wedding—”

  Erica gasped. “Seriously?”

  I nodded, weeping. “Yes, to make her feel comfortable with this whole arrangement. I snapped out of anger. I said some really horrible things.”

  “Well, apologize,” she replied, as if it were that simple.

  “He doesn't want to hear from me.” Flashes of the disgust that painted his face earlier that day played in my mind. It still hurt that I had put that disdain in him, and it broke my heart that that disdain was for me.

  “Apologize anyway to, at least, make yourself feel better,” Erica insisted. “We have a long night of partying ahead of us. You can’t be this sad at your bachelorette party.”

  Erica walked away from me, towards the couch. I wondered why she started rifling through my purse, until she pulled out my phone. She brought it to me, saying, “Call him.”

  “He might not answer.”

  “Then text him. You all have a wedding tomorrow. He can’t ignore you. He won't, if he wants that money.”

  Nervously chewing on my bottom lip, I took my cell from her and unlocked it. As soon as I had, I saw the notification that I had a text message from him. My fingers started to shake with anxiety as I opened it.

  Who knew that eight little words could end me.

  Dame: I‘m not coming tomorrow. I can’t do it.

  Panicking, I took off. I darted towards the couch, grabbed my purse, and ran towards the door.

  “Tempest!” Erica called after me. “Where are you going?”

  “I have to go talk to Dame,” I rushed, still running at full speed towards the door.

  “You still have the dress on, girl!”

  I froze. Finally, I noticed the store associates and other customers looking at me questionably and fearfully. Shamefully, I tucked my tail and sheepishly etched towards the dressing room.

  Chapter 17

  DAMIEN COLEMAN

  “Dad?”

  I didn’t even have the strength to lift my head. The burden on my shoulders was too heavy. Since learning that Jeffery had passed, I had been overcome with feelings. I had played 2K with Joziah for only so long before I let him win and escaped to my man cave. The door had been closed while I smoked a blunt to relieve the tension.

  “Yea?” I stared at the carpet, holding my head as I leaned back on the couch.

  Brea spoke very timidly. “Some lady is at the door for you.”

  My eyes darted towards her. “Who?”

  “She said her name is Tempest.”

  Shit. I jumped to my feet and shot past Brea. I wondered had Brea told her mother as well, but since I didn’t hear World War III exploding in my living room, I assumed she hadn’t.

  I shot past Joziah, who was still on the couch, playing 2K. However, he did give me a nervous, questionable look, which told me that he had heard that a woman was at the door for me as well.

  I yanked the door open. Tempest, once pacing the hall, turned towards me with wide, sympathetic eyes as I stepped out of my condo and closed the door.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but before words could come out, I grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her down the hall towards the stairs.

  “Why would you show up at my house?” I gritted.

  I wasn’t concerned about Maya’s response to Tempest being there. I was concerned about my kids and the confusion and awkward looks that had just been on their faces. My kids should never be uncomfortable in their own home.

  “Because you wouldn’t answer the phone.”

  As I practically drug her down the stairs, she started to beg. “Please come to the ceremony tomorrow. I’m sorry for how I talked to you today—”

  “I don’t want to hear that shit.” She couldn’t take it back now that she needed me. Fuck that.

  “Dame, please?” she begged with tears ruining her makeup.

  I scoffed. “I’m good.”

  Finally, we had reached the first floor. I let go of her elbow as her pleading tears stared up at me.

  “You know how Amaechi and Nneka treat me. I don’t want to be left at the altar in front of them, of all people. I won’t survive that. Even worse, my mother was looking forward to tomorrow. I have never seen her so happy, not since my father died…” She buckled, doubling over in tears as her sobs escaped her throat. “Please don’t do this.”

  I hated that I still felt anything for her. She had all but called me out of my name. She had belittled me. I had done some horrible things to people on the streets for doing much less, and I had let her get away unscathed… because I had feelings for her; genuine, passionate feelings that wanted to comfort her, even though she had hurt me over and over again.

  “Okay,” I gritted, despising the love that I had for her. “I’ll be there.”

  Hopeful, she asked, “You promise?”

  “Yea… but I don’t want your money.”

  I had never been the type of nigga to let a motherfucker disrespect me just to get a bag. I was willing to go through with the ceremony because, outside of my anger, I knew I
was the type of man who, when it came to business, I kept my word. But I had always been a hustler. Now that Jeffery had passed, I had no idea if I still even had a job. But Jeffrey had taught me a whole new hustle that I knew would be lucrative once I invested in myself. It would be a struggle at first, but I was a man used to the struggle and getting it on my own.

  “You-you don’t?” Tempest stuttered.

  “No. Because the money was never more important to me than you were.” At that, I turned and skipped steps as I hopped up the stairs.

  “Dame!” I heard her calling after me desperately.

  “Don’t knock on my door again, Tempest.” I couldn’t look into her eyes anymore. If she didn’t want me, so be it. I was going to fulfill my obligations and leave her alone.

  Untimely death makes people appreciate and reevaluate life. Jeffrey's death was making me do just that. I had allowed Maya and Tempest to soften me up, put myself in too many uncompromising positions; no more.

  Just as I had reached my floor, I damn near collided with Maya. Instantly, she started swinging on me, cursing and screaming, “You had that bitch come to my house!”

  I grabbed her arms, pinning them to her sides. She winced with pain as she struggled to get free.

  “Fuck you!” Then she coughed up phlegm and, before I knew it, launched it right between my eyes. “You have no fucking respect for me!”

  Feeling the urge to drive my fist into her face, I let her go and backed away. I used the hem of my wife beater to wipe my face, still fighting the need to put my hands on her because I knew my kids would hear or see it.

  “Go stay with your Aunt Mary,” I told her calmly.

  Suddenly, the rage melted from her expression.

  “Get the fuck out,” I gritted.

  I was done putting myself in an uncomfortable position for people who didn’t appreciate it. Jeffery died without ever getting what he really wanted. Life was too short to live out a charade for years.