Nasty Girls (26 page)

“Calm down, Shy!” I said. “What's up wit' you? And you're not alone.”

“Whatever. You gonna tell Jade?” she asked.

I thought about it. But Jade had enough problems to worry about. I didn't want to spring this on her so sudden. And then again, I didn't want her to find out through the streets, and have muthafuckas blowing it up in her face just to be spiteful.

“I don't know. But you need to go wash up and get your ass dressed. It's getting late,” I told her.

She went into the bedroom, and I followed her. I was upset, because I told her to do her while Roscoe was locked down. But damn, when I meant do her, I meant do it subtle and shit, not fuck the one asshole that lives in the same hood with you and knows everybody you know.

I heard Shy bustling around in the bathroom. Her bedroom was a bit messy; her floor and bed were swamped with clothing. The bed was unmade. The television was on, but the sound muted. She had old bags of potato chips lying around on top of the television, and the garbage bin was filled to the rim with trash.

“Damn, Shy,” I muttered to myself. “You need to keep yourself
together.” Roscoe ain't been gone that long, only about two months now.

Being her girl, I was going to help her tidy up. I started picking up clothing from off the bed and folding stuff neatly. I threw the empty potato chips bag in the trash and made the bed. I then continued with the clothing, arranging them neatly. I heard Shy in the shower, so I started attacking her floors. She had so many clothes out, like it was a holiday sale at Macy's.

I picked up a pair of her jeans and caught the bombshell when a long clear crack pipe fell from her clothing. I was bug-eyed. I picked up the drug paraphernalia and examined it like it was an alien object. But I clearly knew what the fuck it was.

“Nah . . . nah . . . ,” I muttered, being in disbelief. “Shy, tell me you ain't fuckin' wit' this shit,” I said to myself.

I found myself becoming really fucking angry.
Drugs, Shy!
I began rummaging through the rest of her clothing and searching her bedroom. I found more fucking drugs and knew she was probably smoking crack and whatever else.

I heard the shower stop running, and I waited by the bathroom door gripping the crack pipe and the rest of the drugs I found in her bedroom.

Shy opened the door, stepping out of the bathroom wrapped in a big blue towel. She instantly spotted the shit I found in the bedroom in my hands and cried, “Where you get that from?”

“Shy, you fuckin' crazy! You fuckin' wit' this shit now?” I barked.

“Camille, it ain't none of your fuckin' business!” She barked back. “Give me my shit.” She tried to grab it from my hands, but I pulled back.

“Shy,” I started, but she went reaching for the pipe like it was gold again. “Shy, what the fuck is wrong wit' you?”

“Ain't shit wrong wit' me. You need to mind your fuckin' business and stop bein' nosy and goin' through people's shit.”

“I was helping you clean up your bedroom and found it. . . . Is you stupid!”

“Camille, please . . . it's my fuckin' life, I do what I wanna do.”

“You ready to just fuck yourself up like this? You know what this shit will do to you!” I shouted. “How long, Shy?”

She ignored the question as she stood there in a towel, dripping wet. I peered at her with so much disgust at that moment; I just wanted to smack some sense into her, like I could never do with my mother.

I didn't want Shy to go down that hard road that my mother and so many before her had traveled when fuckin' with crack.

“Who got you hooked on this. James?” I asked.

“Don't worry about it.”

“Shy, James got you hooked on this shit, right? What the fuck is goin' on wit' you?”

“Nothin'! You ain't goin' through the same shit I'm goin' through. I'm missin' my man. He locked up. I'm stressed, Camille. I need sumthin' to help take my mind off Roscoe.”

“I'm tired of you usin' Roscoe's incarceration as an excuse. That's bullshit, bitch! I thought you were stronger than this, Shy. This shit ain't gonna help your situation any better. It's gonna stress you out even more. And James . . . I'm gonna see that nigga. Shy, you stay away from him.”

“You ain't my mother.”

“You need help, Shy,” I tried to explain.

“I don't need nuthin'. I need you to stay the fuck out my business and let me do me.”

“I'm not goin' anywhere. We've been friends for too fuckin' long, Shy, fo' me to watch you start slippin' and have you throw your life away.”

“I know what I'm doin'. It's just temporary, until I get shit back in order wit' my life.”

“This shit ain't temporary,” I said, holding up the pipe. “You start fuckin' wit' this, and ain't nuthin' gonna ever get back on track wit' you.”

“Camille, you don't know everythin'. You think you're so smart—Miss Fuckin' Know-it-all—always tryin' to play big sister . . . treatin' me like I'm stupid—”

“I never called you stupid—”

“You act like I am.”

“You're stupid now fo' even beginnin' to mess wit' this.”

“Bitch, just give me my shit and leave. Get out my fuckin' life! I don't need you anymore. I don't need you or Jade. Fuck y'all. Fuck Roscoe—he made a promise to me, and he never held up to his promise. He left me alone.”

“Shy, you were never alone. I'm here.”

“Whatever! You have Cream. Jade got James.”

“And you think she's happy wit' James,” I uttered. “You think James is a god or sumthin'? James is a fuckin' asshole, Shy. He's poison. I know he got you hooked on this shit. And you let him take advantage of you like this, Shy.”

“I know what I'm doin'. I can handle myself. I'm not fifteen anymore, Camille.”

I sighed. “Please, let me help you, Shy,” I begged. “Don't do this to yourself. Roscoe needs you strong right now.”

“I am strong!”

“If you think this shit makes you strong, and being wit' James, then you got it twisted,” I stated loudly.

I was done talking and holding this poison in my hand. I threw the pipe against the bedroom wall, smashing it.

“Bitch! What the fuck!” Shy shouted, rushing up to me, but I subdued her down to the floor as she carried on, cursing and screaming. “Camille, fuck you! Fuck you! Why you always gotta come and ruin everything? Why can't you stay the fuck away from me! I don't fuckin' need you! I don't need nobody!”

Seeing Shy like this made me cry. Shy is my sista. Her, Jade, and I done been through everything together. And I'd die for my sistas. They the only family I ever known, and the only family I feel I got left on this earth. There's nothing I wouldn't do for them.

“I hate you, Camille. I fuckin' hate you! Get off me!” Shy shouted, trying to free herself from my grip.

I had the crack still clutched in my hand. I quickly got up and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

“I'm not gonna let you do this to yourself, Shy,” I shouted. “I got too much love fo' you to let you fuck your life up like this.”

“Camille, don't flush my shit. . . . Camille!” Shy shouted, banging on the bathroom door.

I lifted up the toilet seat and dumped everything into the toilet bowl. I then flushed it.

“Bitch . . . Why you do that! Fuck you, Camille. Fuck you!” Shy continued to yell and bang loudly against the bathroom door. “Leave me the fuck alone. You ain't me. I ain't you!”

As I heard her scream, I thought about Cali.
Can I leave now?
I asked myself. Shy and Jade still needed me. There was too
much shit going on for me to just break out and leave my friends behind, especially with the chaos that was happening.

Maybe I better put Cali on hold,
I thought. I can't fly thousands of miles away, and leave Shy here like this. I couldn't. I knew Cream was going to be upset, but my friends come first. I knew he'd understand.

 

T
wo days had passed. I was afraid to leave Shy alone, but I couldn't watch over her twenty-four seven. I had my own life, and my own needs, too.

Sierra had called earlier, saying she missed me and wanted to link up. I hadn't heard or seen her in two weeks. Cream was out of town on business, and I needed to release my sexual frustration. I was stressed and horny. I told Sierra to come over to my place, not even thinking about her husband.

Seven p.m., Sierra was at my door, dressed in a business suit and heels. She looked exceptional. It was obvious that she had come here straight from work. She's a receptionist at some downtown Manhattan law firm.

I smiled, and she kissed and hugged me tightly in the doorway.

“Camille, I missed you,” she said.

I hugged her back. Her body was so soft and inviting. She was wearing Christian Dior perfume, and it turned me on.

“I'm so sorry I got careless with my husband. I don't know how he found out about us,” she said.

“Fuck him!” I said. “You're mines for da night.”

We grabbed each other passionately and her hands were all over me. She grabbed my breasts, kissed me, and quickly removed my purple satin slip. Then she undressed herself, and
followed me to the bedroom, where I had all sorts of toys laid out across the bed.

Sierra walked into my bedroom in her bra and panties. I was completely naked.

“I like,” she said, referring to the nine-inch dildo and other sex toys I had spread out.

She came up to me again, embracing me, and I felt her hand move up my thigh and rest on my pussy. She then pushed me down on the bed and climbed on top of me, licking and kissing me from the waist up. I pulled off her panties and she removed her bra. We committed foreplay for several moments. I sucked and licked on her hard nipples, and she fondled my breasts and kissed me between my thighs. Sierra had a body like mine, petite, but firm and thick in the right places. I knew she took care of herself. She probably worked out three times a week at a Bally's. Her brown skin was flawless. No tattoos or scars. She gave birth to three kids, and her body still looked like that of a fit eighteen-year-old girl. Sierra lay across her back and gestured for me to get on top. I straddled her face and felt her tongue penetrate me down below.

“Aaaaaahhh,” I moaned, gripping the headboard. Her tongue action was intense and it made my legs quiver with each stroke. We continued our strong sexual encounter without a care in the world. Sierra wasn't thinking about her husband, and I wasn't thinking about Cream.

Suddenly, there was a loud and disturbing knock at my front door. I was startled, and so was Sierra. I quickly jumped off her face and reached for my robe. I looked at Sierra, and she was just as clueless about the disturbance at my apartment door.

I approached the door with caution. I grabbed the nearest
weapon I could find, a broomstick. Sierra followed me out. She had my bedsheet wrapped around her.

The banging continued, louder and louder. “Open this door, you fuckin' bitch!” I heard him yell. “I'm tired of this shit!”

“Danny!” Sierra said, shocked. I turned to look at her, and she had this frightened look plastered across her face.

“Your husband?” I mouthed.

“Ohmygod!” she said.

“I know you're in there with that bitch! I told you to stay away from her!” he yelled. He banged on my door so loud and hard that I thought he was going to knock it down.

“Open this fuckin' door, you bitch! I wanna talk.”

I had to do something. He was causing a scene in the hallway. I slowly unlocked my door. I shouted, “You need to calm down!”

“Fuck that! That's my wife in there!” he yelled back.

“If you calm down, I'll let you in,” I said.

“Open the door!”

I took my chances and opened the door. I then took a few steps back, holding up the broomstick, prepared to whack him against his fuckin' head if he came charging in at me.

He pushed the door back violently. He was big, about six-foot-three, and dark-skinned. To my surprise, Danny was a very handsome man. He had a bald head and a trimmed goatee, and was clad in a blue three-piece business suit. I could see he had style and class.

Sierra was speechless.

“What the fuck is going on here, Sierra?” Danny asked. He was a few feet from me and Sierra. He never charged at us.

“You're my wife,” he continued. “My fuckin' wife! And I catch you in bed with another fuckin' woman!”

“Baby, let me explain,” Sierra managed to say.

“Explain what? How can you explain this?” he shouted.

I just stood there. Still gripping the broomstick in my hand in case he wanted to act stupid. I was letting them two talk it out. I kept my mouth shut.

“How did you find me?” Sierra asked.

“I hired a private detective. He led me here,” Danny told her.

“You had me followed?” Sierra said, looking taken aback.

“I trusted you, and this is what I get? Who is this bitch?” he yelled. He looked at me with ice-cold eyes.

“Excuse me!” I said.

“You fuckin' heard me, you fuckin' cunt!”

“Oh, baby, don't get fucked up in here. You don't fuckin' know me, nigga,” I said angrily. I gripped the broomstick even tighter.

“You're tearing apart my family!” he screamed, glaring at me.

I thought he was about to wild out in my place, and it was going to get ugly. But the unthinkable happened. He suddenly started to cry—tears trickled down his cheeks and everything.

“We have a family, Sierra . . . three beautiful kids. And you're willing to throw it all away to be with her. I thought you loved us,” he cried out.

“Baby, I do,” Sierra said.

“Then why do you wanna tear us apart?” her husband asked. “I love you more than I love myself. The kids are at your mother's. I didn't tell her what was going on.”