Get Ready for War (21 page)

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Authors: Ni-Ni Simone

BOOK: Get Ready for War
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I lifted up my night goggles and peered through my binoculars, hoping for a closer look. London handed Anderson her cell. I frowned as he scrolled through it.
What the sneezusjeezus does she think giving him her phone is gonna do?
Anderson said something to her, shaking his head as he handed her phone back to her.
Oh God, more tears! Here she goes with her Queen of Pathetic role again, crying.
Maybe Rich was right; this tramp was really stupid. And here I thought she was being her usual two-faced self, but Rich was right. This ho-dog was sniffing up the wrong tree with her dumb self.
Anderson couldn't care less about her. Poor, stupid London . . . sitting on the highway with her big hoofs pounding the pavement . . . but Anderson is about to come my way . . . 'cause I got that goodness...
I mean really, why would he want buffalo chips, when he could have a slim in the waist, pretty in the face cutie-boo on his arm? After all, I had beauty, body, and I gave good brain... I mean, I had brains, too. Heeheehee.
I got that wet-wet ... slurp 'em up, slurp 'em up ... got that bombness . . . bees in the trap . . . I'ma bring him to my . . .
Wait!
Why is he opening up the driver's-side door? And why is London getting out of the car? And, wait, wait . . . why is Anderson's driver pulling off?
Anderson walked London over to the passenger's side of her car, opened the door for her, then waited for her to slide her monkey-donkey self in before shutting the door.
My mouth dropped open when I saw his eyes drop down to her behind.
Why are his eyes stuck to her behind like that? I should ram into the back of her car!
Anderson slid behind the steering wheel, then shut the door. I waited with bated breath to see what happened next. And then... and then...
He stroked her chin.
He tucked her hair behind her ear.
And then he did the unthinkable.
He grabbed London by her gizzard chin, guided her to him and planted . . .
ohsweetgorillaandduckpoo
. . . he kissed her!
That no-good, horny corndog kissed her on the lips! And he had the nerve to take his time kissing her, like the two of them were enjoying it.
Ohfortheloveofcleandrawersandmatchingbras! How could he do this to me?!
I screamed, gripping my binoculars with both hands as they kept kissing. I held them so tight that I could have easily snapped them in half as if they were Anderson's neck. It looked as if he was nibbling and sucking on her lips, too. I felt myself getting more agitated by the minute as I imagined Stink Bottom sitting there with her Underoos sticking to her roach nest, getting all gooey-ooey inside from the kisses that Anderson should have been giving to me! His tongue was supposed to be dancing with mine, moving with heated passion, twirling around mine, making my treasures wet. Not hers!
Ohgodohgodohgod
. . . his hand moved from her face to the back of her neck. He pulled her in more. He wanted a deeper kiss.
Ohgodohgodohgoddangit!
They kissed and kissed and kissed, then he slowly pulled away, staring into her eyes.
Finally, the trick turned from him. They both fastened their seat belts. Anderson started the engine, then slowly pulled out onto the highway, driving off and leaving me parked on the side of the road with my bottom lip hitting the steering wheel.
I screamed, “Anderson Ford! I am going to crush you into a meat grinder then feed you to the sharks for licking and kissing all over that foul-mouthed septic waste! You nasty buzzard!”
My cell rang. Without thinking, I answered. “Wh-wh-whaat ?”
“Spencer, what the hell do you think you're doing?!” Kitty screamed into my ear. “Where are you?”
I blinked.
“What happened to the secret boo? What happened to the story? You had my men out all night chasing ghosts! I can't even count on you to get that right? This is a hot mess! You have wasted time and money! Spencer, Spencer... do you hear me talking to you?”
I blinked.
“He kissed her. He really kissed her. He's been lying to me...”
18
Rich
W
hat did I just do?
It must've been an out-of-body experience.
It had to be...
I knew I was on that stage . . .
I knew I went up to his hotel suite...
I knew we started kissing at the door...
My body was pressed up against his . . .
His kisses traveled from my lips, down my neck, over my collarbone, leaving a wet, warm trail along the center of my body...
Stop thinking.
Just breathe.
I can't do that...
I had to get my mind right. My thoughts in order. I raced south down the freeway and I wasn't sure if I was outrunning the wee hours of the morning or my life . . . All I knew was that I had to get out of there.
I'm not a cheater . . . Maybe this wasn't cheating...
Yes, it was...
Why did I let him take me there?
He lifted me over the threshold and the hotel door closed behind us; the automatic locks clicked in place.
I knew then I should've run. But I didn't ...I was trapped between a heated kiss, a warm body, and strong hands that placed me onto the bed. I knew then he was no boy. He was all man.
What happens now?
What happens next? How will I look my man in the face?
Maybe Knox doesn't have to know.
No. He doesn't need to know.
He will not know.
This is nothing that needed to be repeated.
This will be buried with my old, run-over Chanels with the broken heel and the hole in the bottom. Next to my dog, Fido, my bird named Elephant, and my diary that held all of my secrets.
I watched the sun fill the sky and instantly I could still feel the heat of Justice's fingertips. The way he pulled, and pinched, and tickled, and caressed parts of me that I didn't know existed. My body was completely alive for the first time in my life and it wasn't at the hands of my man.
This is a problem.
This is a big problem.
Maybe I don't need to sweat this.
Maybe I could pretend that this didn't exist.
But it did exist. And I was there in that hotel suite, lost in the rapture of Justice's body. Caught up in the moment of lust. And just when we were set for the moon I stopped him. And pulled the sheet over my nakedness. Thank God I still had on my panties . . . even if the only reason I still had them on was because guilt wouldn't let me take them off. “I can't do this,” I said in a husky whisper.
He didn't hear me at first. Instead he continued on, reaching for my panties. I grabbed his hands and said, “No. I can't.”
“Yes, you can,” he whispered. “Don't do me like this. I've been wanting you for a minute. I've been feelin' you. What happened to all of that good, sweet, sexiness you were talking to me?” Again he reached for my panties.
I let him slide them down over my hips and then I quickly pulled them back up. My heart skipped four beats. I knew I wanted it. I wanted him. He ran the tip of an index finger across the tattoo on my pubic bone that read Good Girl. He placed a soft kiss there. I closed my eyes and the memory of when Knox and I went for tattoos popped into my mind. Knox's tattoo was his Omega Psi Phi line name, The Regulator. And I thought it was apropos, especially since I knew that he knew that I knew he was the only one who could handle me . . . until now...
“What do you mean, stop?”
“I just can't do this,” I said to Justice. I felt like crying, screaming, bolting out of there. Taking the rest of my clothes off. Putting them back on. All of the ingredients for a passionate night were all there: the five-star hotel suite, the balcony overlooking the ocean, the music on low, candles were lit, and I was on ten. Ready and about to go in, but I couldn't, because this was the wrong man.
And I needed my man. Superman. My Knox. I lifted Justice's face to mine, softly placed one last kiss on his lips and said, “I have a boyfriend.”
He didn't say anything; he simply stared at me.
“And I know I shouldn't have let things get this far... and yeah, we've been having issues. And he's mad at me. But I love him. And I want him back. And I have to go and get him.”
Justice let out a deep sigh and sat up. I knew for sure he was going to call me a tease... and maybe I was. “Rich”—he ran his hands through my hair—“you're so beautiful and I want nothing more than to spend this night making love to you. But, I'ma respect your wishes.”
“I'm sorry.” I reached for my clothes.
“Where are you going?” He took my clothes out of my hand. “It's too late for you to go out there like this, plus you've been drinking. Just chill. Wait until the morning and then you can bounce. I want you to be safe. Just let me hold you.”
And I did. My back against his chest. And we drifted off to sleep.
I have to get to Knox. I can't go another minute. Idle time is truly the devil's playground for me.
I exited the freeway and pulled into San Diego University's off-campus apartment complex, where Knox lived. My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach, awakening the nervous butterflies that lived there.
I pulled down the vanity mirror and my eyes were red. I looked exactly how I felt. A mess. I pushed my hair back behind my ears and hopped out of my car. I raced to Knox's apartment. Out of breath. Fighting tears and praying they didn't sneak up on me and roll down my cheeks.
I have to get it together.
What am I going to say?
Just tell the truth . . . for once.
I felt desperate. It was six thirty in the morning and I didn't know if Knox or his roommate were up and I didn't give a damn. I had to end this standoff between my man and me right now. I couldn't go another day, another minute, another second, another moment without him. I couldn't breathe the way I needed to without him in my life. Because the more I tried to breathe the more my lungs burned. He was my oxygen. He was the only steady truth and true love in my life. And nothing, and no one, compared to him.
I rapped on the door with all my might, breathlessly, and no one answered. I pounded over and over and over again. Finally the door swung open and there stood Midnight, Knox's roommate, with crust in his eyes and dried drool along the sides of his mouth. “Yo, you runnin' up on us like you five-oh or somebody's baby mama. Are you serious? What? Did I forget to call you? My fault, ma. But you can't be runnin' up in here like this. Come back later. Shortie from last night is still here.”
“Boy, move.” I pushed him out of my way. “I'm not in the mood and I'm not here for your foolishness!”
“So does that mean you're still into Knox? I thought for sure I had a chance.”
“Shut. Up. Get out of my face!” I rushed toward Knox's bedroom door and Midnight was on my heels.
“Yo”—he blocked my path—“You don't wanna go up in there! Didn't I just tell you about Shortie from last night?”
“What the hell!” Knox snatched his door open. “Yo, Midnight, what are you . . . doing . . . ? Rich, why are you here?”
A river filled my eyes.
“Do you know what time it is?” Knox asked, annoyed.
“I needed to see you,” I said.
“For what?” He scowled and crossed his arms over his bare chest.
I looked him over from his beautiful face to his boxers, to his bare feet. All I wanted was to jump into his arms, but judging by the way he looked at me with disgust and disdain in his eyes, I knew running into his arms was not the move, so I said, “I'm a mess. And I'm an even bigger mess without you.” I paused. Read his eyes. He wasn't impressed. He was still pissed.
“I messed up big time,” I continued, wiping tears. I felt so guilty, but I was so happy to see Knox. I needed him. And I needed him to need me. I needed him to want me here. But I didn't know what to do or what to say that would sway him to want me again. To want to have me again. I'd messed up so many times, but this time would be different. Because if I got him back I would not be letting him go . . .
“Knox—” I took a step toward him and reached for his hand. He left me hanging.
“I'm not about to do this with you again,” he said. “I'm not feelin' it and I don't have time to be playing games with you. Now what? Whatchu want?” he asked, still pissed.
“I want you, Knox.” I took a step closer to him.
He didn't say anything.
I continued. “I have messed up so much. And I know I'm not perfect. I shut you out when I shouldn't have. When I should've let you love me.”
“Rich, please. Enough with the violins. Get to the point. You're saying all of that to say what?”
“That I—”
“You know what, Rich. This back-and-forth is tired. Played. I love you, but I'm sick of you. And sick of your selfishness. You're self-centered. And I'm sick of the TV cameras that follow you. Those ridiculous blogs. The headlines. Everything is one-sided. Life is not all about you. Things that you do affect other people. You hurt me. You hurt us. Your recklessness is going to destroy us! You have something good, so why do you keep doing this to us? To you? I'm tired, Rich. And the way I feel now, I'm done with you. Last I saw you, you were pregnant and I haven't heard anything else about it. I've been calling you and calling you and you haven't answered one call. Now we don't have to be together and yeah, this is effed-up timing, but you need to talk to me about my baby. Because I will be taking care of my responsibilities regardless. So skip the drama and get to the point!”
My heart dropped to my stomach.
He wanted our baby... as much as I had. And here, at my mother's insistence, I'd left the fruits of our love in Arizona. Dammit!
Tears continued to race along with my thoughts. That's when I knew what I had to do. And though I hated to do this, and I hated to lie, I had to. I had to pull this card from my desperate Rolodex and play it like a poker game's flush. I bit into my bottom lip. Tears slid from my eyes to the corners of my mouth and my voice trembled as I said, “I miscarried.”
“What? When? What did you just say?” he stammered. His face was suddenly covered with worry.
My shoulders shook. “The night after you came to my house. After we had that argument I was so stressed and I just love you, and . . .” I couldn't talk anymore. Everything in me collapsed. My knees felt weak and I couldn't stop shaking. I was wracked with tears. I was enthralled in the moment. I was fighting for my life. My love. There was no turning back, because when all was said and done, I was determined to be Mrs. Superman.
He placed his arms around me.
Got him.
“Why didn't you call me?” He held me tightly.
I buried my head into his chest. He smelled like heaven and I knew then he was worth the fight. He was worth the love. And he was worth the lie.
“I love you,” he said. “When you hurt, I hurt. I'm here for you. I ain't going nowhere. And we'll get it right this time.”
I nodded.
He wiped my tears. “Stop crying.”
“I love you so much.”
“I know you do.” He pressed his lips against mine. Our tongues danced and I knew that this was right. This was where I was supposed to be last night. Lost in Knox's arms.
“Damn,” Midnight said, interrupting our moment. “Y'all got me crying. All choked up. I'm caught up in the moment like a mofo.” He sniffed. “I ain't felt like this since
Stomp the Yard
. I need a hug.”
Ignoring Midnight, Knox took me by the hand and led me to his room, and as he shut the door Midnight yelled, “Can I come in, too? We line brothers, man, we 'spose to share.” He started barking, making frat calls.
“I'll never leave you again,” I said to Knox.
“And I won't let you.” He pulled me onto the bed.
The morning sun slipped in through the slits of the mini-blinds as I leaned in to continue our love groove and just as we were about to lose ourselves, Knox whispered, “Babe, why do you smell like hot wings and beer?”

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