When My Soul Met A Thug Read online

  I cringed as I heard her calling me, “True—”

  “Mama, please, just not right now.” I went into Joy’s bedroom and closed the door. I laid her down on her bed, praying to God that I had done it gently enough to keep her asleep. I didn’t feel like putting the fake smile on my face today and mothering.

  I needed just to close my eyes and forget.

  On my way out of Joy’s room, my cell phone rang. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone else that day, but to keep the ringing from waking up Joy, I answered without even looking at the Caller ID. “Hello?”

  “You still on bullshit?” Coop spat.

  As soon as I heard his arrogant, cynical voice, my eyes rolled into the back of my head as I walked up the hall.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have answered the phone.

  That day, I didn’t have the strength to battle with his shit talking.

  “Hello?” he pressed when I took too long to respond.

  “What’s up, Coop?” I finally spoke dryly.

  “What’s wrong with you?” he shot.

  I couldn’t even believe he cared enough to ask. “Nothing. What’s up?”

  “Tryin’ to see you.”

  Urgh! His cockiness was repulsive, but I was surprised that after Tuesday night he wanted to see me.

  He doesn’t care who else I’m sleeping with as long as he gets some, I guess.

  This just proved that Coop couldn’t care less about me outside of the sex, but lucky for him, the feeling was mutual. And that day, I desperately needed to take my mind off things.

  I sighed deeply, full of frustration. “I’m on my way.”

  Angel

  “Mama, I’ll be back,” True announced.

  I couldn’t even look at her. I knew she was dealing with so much. She had more on her shoulders than most twenty-five-year-old women. I felt for my daughter every day. I wanted nothing more than to take it all off her shoulders and put it on mine. She was my baby—mine. I wanted to protect her and shield her from all sadness and pain. She had to know the desperation of that need because she had her own daughter that she wanted the same for. Still, she was so busy dealing with her own shit that she’d forgotten I was right here, right here, dealing with it with her.

  I could only stare at the television that was playing re-runs of Girlfriends. I couldn’t bear to give True the scrutiny that I felt was in my eyes. Even though her shortness had hurt my feelings, I knew the place where it was coming from. I loved her too much to chastise her for it. But still, it hurt.

  I heard her sigh heavily. Then I could feel her walking towards me as I sat on the couch with my arms folded. I could feel the tears stinging my eyes as I felt her sit next to me.

  I cried a lot.

  Mostly for her.

  “I’m sorry, Ma. I—”

  I quickly put my hand up to stop her words because I always tried to be strong for her. Had she said one sweet, loving word, I would have broken down in uncontrollable tears. There would be a time that I would be allowed to cry freely but now wasn’t that time. Because she was carrying this load with astonishing strength, I had to be strong for her.

  I swallowed hard to digest the huge ball of sadness that always appeared there when she was near me. After taking a deep breath, I tapped her knee to let her know it was okay. Anything she did was okay. She could spit in my face, and it would still be okay.

  “Where are you going?” I asked her.

  “To see a friend. I need it. Watch Joy for me?”

  “Of course.”

  I still couldn’t look at her, but I felt her lean over and kiss my cheek. “See you later, Ma. I won’t be long.”

  I just nodded as she hopped off the couch and headed towards the front door. As she left out of it, my cell phone rang. I picked it up from the cushion next to me. My eyes instantly rolled to the ceiling as I saw Tyrone’s name flashing on the display screen.

  “What?” I answered.

  Tyrone was a guy I had allowed to take me to dinner when I needed someone to take my mind off things. I hadn’t seriously dated since my husband died, so I hadn’t been in a relationship since. However, I had entertained a few here and there, and all those men had failed miserably.

  Just like this fool.

  “That’s how you feel?”

  “Yes, that’s how I feel. I don’t have time for your games, Tyrone. I’m dealing with enough as is. You know what’s going on with my daughter. Why would you add to my misery?”

  After countless conversations over steak and potatoes, Tyrone knew my life. He knew every agonizing part of it. And, yet, last week, he still allowed some tramp to call me, after she’d gone through his phone, to tell me that I wouldn’t be going on any more dinners with her man.

  Yes, even at the age of forty, I was still dealing with messy men and the women who loved them. That’s why I stayed away from them.

  Russell, who’d found me on Facebook a few days ago, had been sending me inbox messages. He’d given me his number and asked me to dinner, but I just couldn’t. Russell was way too close to home.

  “Baby, it was a mistake,” Tyrone annoyingly attempting to persuade me.

  Again, my eyes were rolling. “A mistake that is going to cost you me.”

  “What you expect me to do, baby? You’re not giving me any.”

  I chuckled. Men always used that against me. But they constantly showed me why my celibacy was necessary. I hadn’t had sex with anyone since my late husband because of this very reason.

  Chuckling cynically with a shake of my head, I replied, “I’m glad I didn’t. Lose my number.”

  True

  As I walked into Coop’s house on 97th and California, I could smell the weed in the air. He had left the door open for me, so I looked around for him in the large living room. Coop was so rough around the edges, and his attitude was ugly, but his three-hundred-thousand-dollar house in Evergreen Park was beautiful. I kicked my shoes off at the front door, looking around for him. Through the open concept of the home, I peeped him on the patio through the glass doors in the kitchen. I glided over the maple flooring towards the patio, leaving my purse on the kitchen island as I walked by.

  “Hey…” His appearance stopped me dead in my tracks and took my words away.

  He was lounging in an outdoor couch; his large, thick frame draped in a high-end suit. I appreciated the way it custom fit his frame. His strong arms seemed to be ripping at the seams of the jacket. His thick thighs threatened the seams of his pants as he sat riding back on the patio furniture. His beard was glistening in the setting, April sun. I had never seen his ignorance look so exquisite.

  I cleared my throat and forced out, “H-hey, you.”

  I didn’t feel like beating him to being an asshole. Not today. I didn’t feel like the beef. As he looked up at me, it was as if he could see it in my face. So, he was actually calm and humane as he replied, “What’s up?”

  “Nothing,” I lied. “Why are you so dressed up?”

  “I had to go to a funeral today.”

  I shivered at the word. I hated to even think of funerals. “Somebody close?” I forced myself to ask. But this was the last conversation I wanted to have.

  “Yeah.”

  My heart went out to him. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “Don’t be. That’s how the game goes sometimes.”

  He moved his feet off of the space on the couch next to him, and I sat beside him. He looked at me strangely as I eyed the weed pen in his hand that he was smoking from.

  When he smiled slowly, I wished I could stay in this moment with him. Sitting there with that caring smile on his face, he seemed so sweet and beautiful.

  Even though he and I had only been having sex for the last three months, we had managed to have decent conversations when he was like this. So, I knew that under his hardcore exterior was a much milder man that I would only see now and then.

  I guessed that now was one of those rare times.

  “You want to hit it,
don’t you?” he asked with a teasing smile that I made me forget my worries. It was amazing how beautiful this flawed man was. His smile was so gorgeous, with lips that normally spilled such ugliness.

  I playfully nudged him in the side. “You know I do. Stop playing.”

  As he handed the weed to me, he said, “When I met you, I would have never thought you smoked weed so much.”

  My eyebrow rose as our eyes met. “Why not?”

  I could see the same fire in his eyes that was burning in them that night at Norman’s Bistro. So, I knew that he hadn’t gotten over it.

  He shrugged. “You didn’t seem like the type.”

  I kept staring in those harsh yet stunning eyes. I drowned into the intensity. I wanted it. I needed it. “What’s the type?”

  “Down to earth.”

  Surprised, my mouth dropped. “So, I’m bougie?”

  He shook his head, his gorgeous smile spreading deeper into his beard. “Nah, you just looked that way.”

  “So, bougie girls don’t smoke weed?” I pressed.

  Coop shook his head. “Not the ones I’ve met.”

  I slightly shrugged. “You just have this stereotypical view that only hood chicks do drugs because you’re from the hood. That’s all you’ve seen.”

  He nodded. “You’re probably right.”

  Shocked, my eyes bucked. I slightly sat back and stared at him. “Whaaaaaaat? You’re agreeing with me?”

  Finally, his intense eyes shied away from mine. Watching him blush was adorable to see. “Shut up.”

  He must be high.

  Blushing wasn’t like him at all.

  “For real, though. Why do you smoke so much?” he asked as he rested his arm behind me on the couch.

  I sat back and got comfortable. “Stop asking so many questions.”

  “I was just wondering. It's not a good look for a pretty girl like you.”

  My mouth flew open. I forced it to close so that I could hit the pen.

  “What?” he asked curiously.

  “You called me pretty,” I acknowledged with a smile as I exhaled the weed smoke.

  Again, he blushed, and I thought it was so damn cute. “You know I think you’re pretty.”

  I shrugged. “You never say it.”

  He gave me his penetrating, flirtatious stare, and I could feel the seat of my panties flood with moisture. He licked his lips and told me, “I never knew you wanted to hear it.”

  “I mean it wouldn't hurt to hear it.”

  “Well, you’re pretty…. And you’re skinny as hell,” he joked as he pinched my side.

  “Whatever!” I fussed as I leaned into him. I was slowly starting to feel the effects of the weed. I enjoyed the feeling of that day’s stress floating away.

  “Yes, you are,” he stressed. “You can dodge a raindrop, can’t you?” he joked.

  I started cracking up, and, damn, it felt good to laugh.

  He nudged me, chuckling. “You know it’s true. You wash your ass with floss?”

  My mouth dropped as I continued to cackle. “Whatever! I am not that damn little!”

  Usually, I was self-conscious about my weight. I was already slim, but when I started to drastically lose weight, losing the little curves that I had, I felt like a boy. But Coop had a way of making me laugh at his jokes, even though they were aimed towards me and lined with honesty.

  Our eyes met again as our giggles faded and that intensity between us returned. I squeezed my thighs together, fighting the throbbing feeling between them. I swallowed hard and handed him back the pen. I watched curiously as he sat it down on the small table in front of him. Before I knew it, he reached over and pulled me onto his lap. Before I could say anything, he started kissing me, while taking off his suit jacket. Then he pulled up my dress. I could feel as his hand left my ass and went into his slacks. He pulled out that beautiful piece of long, thick art and used it to push my panties to the side.

  He forced himself inside of me with such a thrust that I gasped. My eyes flew open, and I stared into his, wondering what these death strokes were for. He grabbed the back of my neck, and while biting his lip, said, “I told you that I was gon’ make you pay for lying to me.”

  He grabbed my waist and controlled the strokes, even though I was sitting on his lap. He rocked me back and forth, up and down, tossing me all over the dick.

  “You ‘bout to get it,” he groaned.

  “Oooooh shiiiiit.”

  Remi

  My hands were shaking as I walked up to my house. Tonight was me and Banks’ anniversary dinner. We hadn’t even gotten there, and I was already so nervous. I kept telling myself not to get my hopes up just in case he didn’t propose. But I could feel that this was it.

  This had to be it.

  I had just gotten my makeup done, and I had already struggled into my Gucci dress afterward. I was now rushing into the house so Banks and I could leave for our eight o’clock reservation.

  “Baaaabe…” I stopped in my tracks as my eyes fell on Banks and his right hand, Bennie, sitting at the dining room table. I heard sounds behind me. I spun around, and my heart sank when I saw his other two guys, JD and Jason, and their girlfriends, Niyah and Iyana, sitting on my couch watching TV. Music was playing. Blunts were in rotation.

  “What’s going on?” I asked as I looked around slowly. I walked towards Banks, asking, “Are they coming with us?”

  “Nah, babe,” Banks said. He sat his cup down on the table and stood up to greet me. As he hugged me, he said, “We aren’t going to dinner anymore.” He kissed my cheek quickly and then looked me over. “You look nice.”

  Shocked, I stuttered, “W-why aren’t we going?”

  “We’re gonna kick it here for a while and then go to the strip club. One of the guys is having a birthday party at Red Diamonds tonight.”

  “What about our anniversary?”

  He smiled, assuring me, “It’s still a celebration, baby. Our people just wanted to celebrate with us.”

  “Yeah, Remi, we tryin’ to kick it and see some hoes tonight,” Bennie cut in. When I cut my eyes at him, he laughed. “Happy Anniversary.”

  Arrrrrrrrgh! I screamed on the inside.

  When I looked back at Banks, he was giving my dress a once over. “You might wanna change outta that. That’s too fancy for Red Diamonds.”

  I wasn’t even trying to hide how floored I was, but Banks didn’t see my shock anyway. He quickly smacked me on my ass and went back to sit at the table where he was rolling a blunt.

  I forced back my disappointed tears and disappeared into my bedroom. My heart was so heavy as I removed the Gucci dress and girdle that was holding in all my imperfections. Standing in front of the mirror on our dresser, I looked at my stretch marks, rolls, thighs decorated with cellulite and voluptuousness and wondered was that why I hadn't gotten my ring today.

  I didn't even blame Banks. I blamed myself for even getting my hopes up. Apparently, I was still that naïve woman he had been with for ten years, living a fairy tale instead of my reality. However, part of my reality was that I had my man. If he wasn't going to marry me today, then he would ask me eventually. No matter the women he had cheated with, he always stayed with me. So, I swallowed my disappointment and changed into a pair of Fashion Nova high-waist jeans that held in my imperfections while accentuating my ass. I threw on a Balmain, lightweight bomber jacket since the weather still dropped at night in Chicago in April.

  I opted to wait to put on my matching heels on until Banks was ready to go. I took another deep breath to get my emotions under control before going back into the living room. I immediately spotted Niyah and Iyana, resentful of their perfect shapes that were hardly covered by thin, short, form-fitted dresses. All the dope boys’ girlfriends had perfect breasts, phat asses, and invisible waists that their men had purchased in Miami or the Dominican for half the price. Banks always suggested that I get my body done too, which further let me know what his preference was. But the doctor had told me
long ago that I needed to lose weight and get my health together before I underwent such aggressive surgeries.

  “Aye, baby, before you sit down, can you go get my Rolex out the drawer?” Banks asked, still seated at the table, weed smoke encasing him. “We ready to bounce.”

  I made an about face and went back into the bedroom, thinking, It’s going to be okay, Remi. Just be patient. Be patient, girl.

  But how patient did I have to be?! How long did I have to wait? How much more loving did I have to be? What else did I have to do to show him that I was wifey material?

  I grimaced as I tore the drawer open of our nightstand where Banks usually kept his valuable jewelry. His two-carat cross pendant chain was there. I saw his Versace watch, Cartier bracelet, and multi-carat diamond earrings. But no Rolex.

  “Bae, it’s not in here!” I shouted.

  “Look in the top drawer on the left!”

  I frowned, mocking him silently and making faces as I started to close the drawer, but I stopped when I saw a watch box in the back of the drawer that I was already in. I figured that was his watch, so I reached back there and grabbed it. I shut the drawer as I opened the box to get the watch out.

  “I found…” I stopped in my tracks when I saw the smaller velvet box tucked away inside of the watch box. My heart pounded out of my chest. I started to feel weak, and the room started to spin as I started to scream at the top of my lungs jumping up and down. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!”

  I tossed the watch box and tore open the velvet box. My eyes laid on a three-carat, tri-stone engagement ring set in platinum and lost my mind. “Oh my Gooooooooooooooood!”

  Tears flooded my eyes as I took off running, but I was stopped suddenly when Banks came racing inside the room.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked as I ran up on him.

  “Baby!” I squealed. “Oh my God! Baby! You tricked me!”

  I threw my arms around him. Everyone else raced inside our bedroom to see what the hell was going on.