Thug Lovin' (18 page)

“You expect me to believe that? Out of all the escort services in California, my wife chose the one you worked for and chose
you? C’mon now.”

Sabeerah was getting offended. “I work for the best escort service in California. You don’t think your wife would choose the
best? And what do you mean chose me? I am young, beautiful, smart and that is not the first time I was chosen,” she snapped,
forgetting that he had just threatened to take her out.

“I don’t mean it like that.” Trae shook his head in disbelief.
This shit is unreal.
“Why the fuck are you working for an escort service? Does your family know what you are doing with your spare time? How old
are you? Your drawings are not making you enough money?”

“Who do you think you are? I am grown!” She walked to the door and opened it. “Don’t come over to my house judging me. For
your information, I have not slept with anyone. I just accompanied a few clients on outings and with you I was told no sex.
So keep your judgments to yourself. And you can leave now.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “How did you find out where I lived?
Get out now before I call the police.”

“You need to quit that escort service. Those dates don’t always turn out as planned.” He walked out the front door and she
slammed it behind him.

She began ransacking her living room. “Why didn’t you tell him?” Sabeerah screamed. She stopped dead in her tracks and Mysterious
calmly said, “Not yet. He’ll be back. Stop being a sucker. He doesn’t want you. You are a geek, a nerd for crying out loud.
You wouldn’t know what to do with him.”

“Fuck you!” Sabeerah began smacking herself. “This geek or nerd, as you call me, strategically set you up with that Valentine’s
date, didn’t she?” Sabeerah was now foaming at the mouth.

“But you fucked that up,” Mysterious challenged. “The wife was there. I couldn’t even enjoy myself. The bitch wouldn’t let
me fuck him.” Mysterious spat.

“Bitch, just leave me alone,” Sabeerah said before lying down on the couch to cry.

T
asha was in the kitchen putting together a snack bag for their trip to the drive-in and wondering where Trae was when the
house phone rang. “What’s up, big daddy?” Tasha cooed into the phone. “Are you on your way home? Of course you aren’t. Buying
you a Maybach was not a smart move,” she teased.

“Yes it was. I’ll be there in a few. Y’all almost ready?” Trae asked.

“By the time you get here we’ll be ready.”

“Make me a turkey pastrami on rye. Love you,” Trae told her.

“I already did and I love you more.”

Tasha hung up and headed for the laundry room to put some clothes away. Concita was cooking and the kids were playing as Aunt
Marva entertained two of her girlfriends. The doorbell rang and she wondered who it could be. “Auntie, are you expecting somebody
else?”

“Miss Carrie said she was coming but then called and canceled, maybe she changed her mind. I hope so, we need one more spades
player.”

Tasha had a puzzled look on her face because she wasn’t expecting anyone. She peeped out the front window and the person she
saw made her blood boil. “No! I know this bitch didn’t bring her ho ass over to my house!” Tasha spat in disbelief.

She snatched open the door. “Can I help you?” Tasha was having a hard time controlling the shakiness in her voice.

“Is Mr. Macklin in? I only need to drop off these files,” Charli calmly stated as she pointed to a box on the ground. “Do
you mind picking these up and taking them inside?”

Tasha fought like hell to remain calm. “Oh, that won’t be a problem. Give me a sec, hun,” Tasha said, being real fake. She
then hurried to the sliding glass doors that separated the kitchen from the patio.

“Auntie, I need you to call 911 in about five minutes. Tell them that a lady just forced her way into our home and she is
attacking your niece. You got that?”

Aunt Marva looked confused. “Girl, what in the hell is going on?”

“Concita,” Tasha called the nanny. “Stay out here with the boys, okay?”

“Okay, Missus Macklin. Not a problem. The boys, they fine.”

Tasha pushed Marva back, shut the door, locked it and dialed Trae.

“Ma, what’s up?”

“Since you can’t keep your bitch in check, I’m about to do it for you.” She began taking off her earrings as she hurried up
the stairs.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your bitch is at my front door. You thought I was playing? I warned you to handle her or I would. Ain’t no way you can convince
me, nigga, that you are not fucking this ho or didn’t fuck her. This bitch done lost her mind over what is supposed to be
mines, Trae.” She ended the call and wrapped her hair up into a tight bun, greased her face up and went back downstairs.

Trae was frantically dialing Rick. “C’mon Rick, answer the phone,” he gritted.

“Yeah,” Rick answered.

“Rick, where are you?”

“On my way home. You ready for me to tap that ass on the pool table? Game of eight-ball, that’s all I want. If you win I’ll—”

“Man, fuck the game, I need you to get to my house. Tasha getting ready to whup my lawyer’s ass. I can’t have my wife going
to jail for some bullshit. I’m on my way now. I’m about ten minutes away.”

“I’m on my way too. I got you,” Rick said, glad to be able to do something to help Trae.

“C’mon in.” Tasha held the door open for Charli, who stepped inside, leaving the box of files on the front porch.

“Thank you.” Charli smiled, feeling empowered now that she had made her way into Trae’s home. “I know we got off to a bumpy
start but I’m not all that bad. Maybe we can do lunch sometime.”

Tasha closed the door. “I’m only going to tell you this one last time, stop calling my husband, stop buying him gifts, and
don’t bring yo’ ass by the club, and especially on this property ever again. Do you understand what I just said?”

“Excuse me?” Charli got indignant. “Myself and Trae, we have business together. And this house? I’m the one who made it possible
for you to live here.” When she said that, if you could have bought Tasha for a penny, that would have been the time. Tasha
couldn’t even breathe or speak. But Charli wasn’t done. “And the club? I arranged the financing on that. The club wouldn’t
even be in existence without my help,” Charli said with an air of smugness. “So if you think it’s any more than just business,
you need to check yo husband,” Charli said in a mocking round-the-way-girl voice.

Plop.
Tasha’s fist landed in her mouth. “Bitch, I’ma check you.” She punched her again.

It was now Charli’s turn to become speechless and to lose her breath. When she recovered she hauled back and slapped the shit
out of Tasha. Tasha didn’t blink but grabbed two handsfuls of Charli’s hair and pushed her neck down, damn near snapping it,
and kneed her in the face. She then hauled back and punched her in the jaw. Charli grabbed her hair this time and got a nice
punch at Tasha’s mouth. Just when the ladies were about to really get it on, Trae burst through the door. “Tasha, hold up.”
He grabbed her and swooped her clean up into the air.

Charli used this opportunity to sneak her in the face. “Bitch, now we even.” She smirked.

“Ho, it’s on now. We can do this. Trae, put me down so I can handle this bitch,” Tasha growled. When Charli saw the look on
Tasha’s face she started backing up.

Rick burst through the door, almost knocking Charli over. He looked at Trae struggling to hold Tasha in the air and grabbed
Charli.

“Get your hands off of me. Do you know who I am? Trae, who is this? Tell him to get his hands off of me.”

“Get her out of here, man,” Trae told Rick.

“No. Rick, let the bitch stay,” Tasha spat as she tried desperately to squirm out of Trae’s grasp.

“Rick, you got her, man?”

“Yeah. Handle your business. I got you.” Trae carried Tasha upstairs into their bedroom.

“I can’t believe you didn’t allow me to whup that ho’s ass!”

“Why the fuck would I want my wife to be fighting some bitch. Fuck her! I married you, Tasha.” He finally let her go.

“Nigga, now I know that’s exactly what you are doing. Fucking her. Trae, pack your shit and get the fuck out,” Tasha screamed.

“What?”

“You heard me, nigga. Pack your shit and get the fuck outta my house!”

“Your house?”

She turned around and got in his face. “That’s right. I
said
my fuckin’ house. What? Better yet. I may leave for a couple of days to get some shit straight. While I’m gone, you better
get your shit and get the fuck out of my house. Oh, no. I’m sorry. It’s yo’ bitch house. She ain’t have no problem telling
me that I wouldn’t be living here if it wasn’t for her. I can’t believe you. We could have gotten a house anywhere. You ain’t
need her. Nigga, I got A-one credit. Let me refresh your memory. I’m not one of them chickenheads you used to fuck with back
home. Oops. My bad. You came out here and called yourself stepping ya game up. Well, you know what? Fuck you, yo’ game and
that bitch. Because I don’t need you.”

“Tasha, what I do?”

“You know what you did! Just have your shit out of here by the time I get back.” She went into their bathroom, slammed the
door, and locked it. She then started breathing as if she were having an asthma attack.

T
rae was sitting in Rick’s living room. They were getting blunted out. “Man, you’re a detective. They don’t give y’all random
piss tests?” he asked Rick. They were on their third blunt as they watched Roy Jones, Jr. get his ass beat by Calzaghe.

“I’m a boss, nigga.”

“So. Bosses have a boss.”

“Well, I have a unique situation. I’m good. Don’t worry about me. You know how lucky you are that I am who I am? That Asian
chick you fuckin’ with is connected. We even now, homey,” Rick told him.

“Nigga, we ain’t even. That’s what you get paid to do, serve the public,” Trae joked.

“Dude. Who you know can call 911 and request a specific officer by name and he comes running? Nobody,” Rick joked. “But seriously,”
he said, “ole girl is
very
connected. How did you get hooked up with her?” He wanted to see how much Trae knew. But Trae didn’t bite. Rick paused to
take a toke. “She said Tasha
invited
her inside the house. So that means that wifey took her time and premeditated the ass-whipping. Dawg, you better not sleep
on Tasha. That’s the type of woman you can’t sleep on, man.”

“Man, I know my wife.”

“I can’t tell. What were you thinking fuckin’ with that rich crazy and very connected bitch? I underestimated your willingness
to live on the edge. Shit, I need you on my team, Rick kept prodding. “I mean, it’s obvious that you love the ground your
wife walks on and she worships you. Man, you know how many folks wish they had it like that? Sheeit, I hate my wife. We together
for convenience. The bitch got money.” Rick was watching Trae and waiting on an answer. Because they had been investigating
Charli Li’s law firm hoping to get something on Charles Li, which led them to Stephon, who had led them to Trae. They didn’t
want Charli, Stephon or Trae. They
wanted
the man himself, Charles Li.

Their attention went to the front door. Rick’s wife walked in, frowned and slammed the door. “Speak of the crooked-horn devil,”
Rick said.

“Rick, we talked about you smoking that shit in my house.” She rolled her eyes and kept going, ignoring Trae.

Rick looked at his watch. “Here this bitch comes in at almost one in the morning, no explanation, no previous phone calls,
no dinner on the stove, and got the nerve to check me about smoking weed in the privacy of my own goddammed house? This bitch
got me fucked up!”

“What did you call me?” his wife Rachel screamed from the stairs.

“Ohhkay.” Trae stood up. “I think it’s time for me to bounce.”

“Naw, man. You ain’t gotta leave.”

“What did you call me?” Rachel screamed again as she stormed down the stairs.

“Rachel, we have company.”

“I don’t have shit. That’s your company,” she yelled as if Trae weren’t standing there.

“Aiight, man. I’m out. It’s time for me to get my ass home.” He gave Rick some dap. “I’ll holla at you tomorrow and thanks
for everything.”

“Anytime, man. I got your back,” Rick said as he walked him to the door.

Trae thought,
Damn, seems like everybody got issues.
He inhaled the night air before walking off the porch. Rick’s house was situated in the cul-de-sac on the block and Trae’s
was in the middle. It was a beautiful star-filled night. The kind of night that he and Tasha liked to sit on the front porch
and watch. Trae pulled the trash cans out in front of the house before going inside.

His first stop was the children’s room and he was surprised to see it was empty. Anxious to find out what was going on, he
headed to his bedroom. It was shut. He wasn’t in there, so of course he was wondering why the door was closed.

He eased it open and breathed a sigh of relief when his eyes adjusted and he saw that the boys were in the bed with Tasha.
He could barely hear her but he knew that she was crying. When he stepped all the way inside their bedroom, she raised her
head up. “Get the fuck out, Trae. I told you I want you out of my house,” she gritted.

“Why you got them boys in the bed with you? They have their own beds.”

He saw the swift move of her arm and then a picture frame came flying at him, causing him to duck.

“Get out, Trae.” She jumped out of the bed like a madwoman. “Please, just get the hell out of my house!” She tried to push
him out of the bedroom. He shoved her, sending her flying onto the floor.

“Why are you trippin’ like this, Tasha? We need to talk about this!”

“Talk? Trae, the only thing that has been coming out of your mouth is lies. You know you are fuckin’ that bitch, so just say
it.” She jumped up and tried again to get him out of the bedroom.

“I’m not fuckin’ her, Tasha.” He grabbed hold of both of her wrists.

“Look at you. You’re busted and you’re still lying. The bitch said she got you this house and that muthafuckin’ club. So,
you’re not fuckin’ her? Nigga, just get out. I can’t stand the sight of you right now. Please. Just go.”