Page 1

Chapter 1

Armias “Ali” Pierre

“She gettin' fucked tonight, she gettin' fucked tonight. Stop callin' her phone, she gettin' fucked tonight. Blowin' down her line, you the buster type. Knowin' that you lyin', we don't go for the hype…”

Chilling in my hood was something I stopped doing on a consistent basis a while ago. I visited the 10th ward all the time because I still had family and friends over here. But I didn’t dry kick it in the projects nearly as much as I used to. I’d pass by every now and then, but I’d grown out of hugging the block in my early 20’s. At least I thought I did…because the St.Thomas had been seeing me multiple times a week over the entire summer. Really, the habitual hanging out started in late June. The hood provided constant entertainment and interaction that served as the distraction I needed from my harmful thoughts. I refused to be sad or depressed over somebody who was never really mine to begin with.

“STOP CALLING MY PHONE I’M GETTING FUCKED TONIGHTTTT!” Nazaria screamed while backing into me. I had a blunt in one hand and a red cup filled with ice and Hennessy in the other. Between being high and buzzing, I was in a chill mood and vibing. Naz being loud and over the top did nothing to disrupt that because that had always been her personality and it matched the environment we were in. However, I instantly grew aggravated because she had her phone in my face, recording and shit.

“Man, I know you not on live right now,” I scowled while moving my head away from her front camera and pushing her hand away.

“Boy, no,” she laughed. “I’m just recording on my camera.”

“Oh, alright,” I nodded, while still eyeing her skeptically. Naz had always been popular locally dating back to her teenage days and it reflected in her follower count across all social media platforms. She had over 10,000 followers on Instagram and it was easy to see why. She was a pretty, thick fine caramel beauty and she was always showing off her hood rich lifestyle. Prior to going to jail she resided in a luxury apartment downtown, she stayed laced in the latest designer, she was always on vacation, and she partied every weekend vip style. That flashy shit bit her in the ass when she went down for scamming. She wasn’t the mastermind behind the telemarketing scam that targeted the elderly. She was merely a worker along with several other people, but she still made over $200,000 and she had to pay it all back. She had that and then some in her bank account that the feds seized. She had no proof of legit income to match her lifestyle that she showed off. I thought she would’ve learned from all that and finally saw that the internet shit was federal. Specifically if you weren’t living right. But nope, she came home and hopped right back into the swing of things with social media. She also didn’t leave the illegal shit alone. She wasn’t scamming anymore but she was still boosting and selling clothes. It was a lucrative business for her, so I didn’t blame her fully. I also had to give her a little credit because she had started a legit styling business. She was modeling for local fast fashion boutiques in the city, too. I had urged her to lean into that IG model, influencer shit and to stop playing russian roulette with her freedom, but I think she got a rush from committing crimes. I knew from my personal experience, but that shit wore off for me in my early 20’s. I also think she took how lucky she’d gotten for granted because she didn’t really hit rock bottom. Going to jail for any amount of time was no walk in the park, but two years was nothing for a criminal to walk down. That was a slap on the wrist, for real. The only reason I was stressed when I did a year in jail was because I was worried about my family. Naz only had herself to look out for, so she took her time on the chin. Then when most people caught scamming charges, they lost everything and had to start fresh. Naz had a stash put up for safe keeping, so when she came home she was still straight. The feds only took what they had access to. Within a few weeks of being home she was in a brand new townhouse on the Westbank and pushing a Tesla. I’d laced her with a nice chunk of change when she touched down, but it wasn’t enough for her to make any major moves. All the credit for how she was living belonged to her and I’d always admired her hustle. Quite frankly, whatever she did with her life was her business and I never questioned it. I never really had room to judge because we were cut from the same cloth. But lately I found myself wondering what other depth she had other than being fine, obtaining material shit, and stunting for strangers online.

“Yea…wrong bitch.”

“Man, what?” I cracked a grin.

“You must be mistaking me for somebody else cause I know better than to post you in real time. I’m not green like them young hoes you been fucking with.”

She may as well have just said Lourdes’ name because that was the only person she could’ve been talking about. Naz had always been one of the multiple women I kept in rotation and she was aware of that. I wasn’t a nigga who lied and sold dreams to kick it. I always laid my cards on the table and made it clear what type of timing I was on. Surprisingly, most women appreciated that and it made things more smooth sailing. I didn’t have women drama because none of them knew each other. Whenever I had situations where girls started to get attached and showed signs of possessiveness, I distanced myself before shit got out of control. Naz had always been one of my favorites because stayed in her lane so well. She never showed signs of jealousy. I could honestly say I never saw her sweat over another female, but she couldn’t stop sending indirect shots at Lourdes and I had to take ownership for that. I saw Naz as a friend, so I vented to her through a jail call when my emotions were high and I didn’t hold shit back. That resulted in me seeing another side of Naz that I wasn’t expecting. In the past, I could tell her anything about the petty problems I was having with women. It was always a lighthearted conversation like I was talking to one of my potnas. I started running my mouth before I could fully decipher that it was a possibility that Naz would react differently because everything I’d done with Lourdes had been different. I recognized Lourdes was unlike any other woman I’d encountered after one night and I handled her like fine China. I was so hot and heated when I was expressing how she wronged me to Naz that I didn’t realize how unusually quiet she was. When she finally did speak she played it cool and gave me encouraging words. But as time went on she’d have little slick comments about me messing with a childish, young hoe and I always ignored them. Defending Lourdes was the last thing I was going to do, but I wasn’t going to participate in bashing her either. I really just wanted to forget her but I knew that would be an uphill battle from the second I decided I was cutting her off. She was making it hard in the very beginning because she kept reaching out to me and pleading her case. That shit was wearing me down and when I found myself validating some of the things she was alleging I knew I had to block her on everything. I guess her pride was too high to keep trying after that because she left me alone. I was never the type of nigga that wanted to be chased but I did question how much Lourdes really fucked with me if she gave up so easily. It was cool though, because without her constantly hitting me up it was easier for me to push her out of my mind. I wasn’t going to lie and say I forgot about her completely or that I wasn’t still hurt by her actions, but I was gradually getting back to the old me. I was spending more time in my barbershops and cutting hair to occupy my time. I was doing a bunch of fun things with my siblings. I was hanging with my boys a lot more and I’d gotten back to juggling multiple women. I was doing anything that kept me busy and distracted. Naz came home a little early at the end of July and she was something else for me to indulge in. Our friends with benefits relationship picked up right where it left off. I let her indirect comments about Lourdes roll off my back because I chumped it up to her just being a little jealous. That was normally a dealbreaker for me with women but I’d known Naz for so long that I gave her grace. She was entitled to feel a way about me giving my all to someone new when I never gave her half as much. I couldn’t even give her a relationship when she asked for it. That’s why when she got home I moved differently with her. I allowed her to stay with me until she got settled into her own place, we went on multiple dates, I was bringing her around my family way more, and I was allowing her to claim me. No, we never had a conversation about being official but she was well within her rights to assume that based on how I was carrying her. I wasn’t jumping to tell her otherwise because the more we carried on the more I got over that shit with Lourdes. All that changed when she hit my line a few days ago claiming that she was pregnant with my daughter.

“Say, stop saying dumb shit like that,” I snapped.

Her head bounced back in surprise and that response was fitting. I’d been letting her make those indirect, snide comments towards Lourdes in peace up until now. But I really wasn’t in the mood today. Playing stupid had never been my MO. I never used condoms with Lourdes and I’d nutted in her every single time we had sex. While we were in Orlando she deliberately told me more than once that she was in between birth control shots and I didn’t give a fuck. That pussy was feeling so good that I convinced myself that I was ready to become a father. Her being pregnant with my baby aligned with everything we’d done. If she knew what she was having then she had to be between 18 and 22 weeks. If that was the case the math certainly added up. But there was still some doubt on my end because she was living with her real nigga. I didn’t have enough information to know the truth and the only way I’d know without a shadow of doubt that she was carrying my child was with a DNA test. That’s what I should've said over the phone, but I guess I wasn’t really over everything like I convinced myself to be. Before I knew it I was saying some mean shit and hanging up in her face.

Later on that day when I was alone and thinking clearly, I attempted to call her back from the number she hit me up from. I thought maybe it was a new number but it was actually a text app number and went straight to voicemail. I unblocked her actual number and tried calling it only to discover that she’d blocked me. I took a page out of her book and took it to IG only to find out that she’d taken a page from mine and blocked me on that too. I went from wanting to talk maturely and get clarity to being frustrated. She fucked up but had the audacity to be angry with me. I figured she was in her feelings about Naz answering my phone. Naz was out of line for that, but that wasn’t Lourdes’s business. I was well within my rights to fuck with whoever I wanted to. The only thing she was valid in being mad about was the way I handled her on the phone. Even I could admit I could’ve been more mature within my response, but I was going to be questioning paternity regardless. I didn’t give a fuck how she felt about that. My ego was telling me that she had no time to be fucking anybody else with how much we were getting it in, but I was never with her 24/7. I did know one thing though, if she was pregnant with my baby I’d never forgive myself for not being there for her. My dad would roll in his grave at me being a deadbeat. I also talked too much shit about my siblings' fathers being absent to turn around and be just like them. I never really dreamed of having kids of my own, but I always promised to be present in every aspect if it did happen for me. With Lourdes there was a strong possibility that it was happening and I was going to do the right thing.

“Not you catching an attitude with me. You must be in your feelings about some shit you swore you were over.”

“Maybe I would be over it if you wasn’t always trying to be funny. You starting to blow it with that young hoes shit. You gon have people thinking I’ma creep or something cause I was fucking with somebody who’s only three years younger than me. Shit, ain’t that our age gap, too?”

She opened her mouth to respond but then she promptly closed it.

“Oop, he got you together, friend,” her funny looking best friend, Treontae, tittered. Most of her people still resided in the projects, so she spent more time back here than me. A few of her home girls were lingering around me and my potnas hoping to get chosen. They were making it glaringly obvious with their skimpy attire and flirtatious energy. Not even ten minutes ago Treontae had bent over directly in front of Lucky and shook her ass to the bounce music that had been playing. She had a nice body and a big booty, so a lot of niggas would hit despite her not being too cute in the face. Hell, I knew a few niggas who had fucked her and had great things to say about her mouth. Lucky probably would’ve given her some play if he wasn’t all into his phone. Treontae saw his disinterest and set her sights on Lucky’s brother, Leo. Anybody who knew him was aware that he had a woman and kids at home, but that didn’t stop Treontae from pushing up on him. Like the cheater he was, he took the bait.

“He ain’t get shit together,” Naz rolled her eyes before glaring at me. “Let me find out…”

“Let you find out what, bruh?”

“That you fell for that shit ole girl was claiming the other day, cause that’s the oldest trick in the book.”

“Mannn, mind your business, Naz.” I hadn’t told another soul what Lourdes had claimed over the phone. The only reason Naz knew was because the volume was high enough on my phone for her to hear clearly. They’d also exchanged words for at least two minutes before I walked into my bedroom to take my phone. Naz swore up and down that they only had a small back and forth about who she was and why she was answering my phone, but I didn’t fully trust her. She was operating from a jealous place and that could make anyone vindictive and messy. I was already seeing the messy side to her when she normally kept it player.

“So you not my business?” She put her hands on her hips and got in my face with her body bumping against mine. My eyes naturally dropped down to her double d breasts that were practically hanging out of her tiny v-neck crop top. She wore it with jean booty shorts, a Gucci fanny pack, Gucci sneakers, and gold Gucci shades rested in her fire red wig. She often bragged about paying a grip for her hair and I could say it was money well spent because her shit looked natural. She had on a full face of makeup, but Naz had always been drop dead gorgeous so it only enhanced her sharp cheekbones, slanted eyes, and plump lips. She was a 10 from head to toe, but she was talking too much and getting on my nerves.

“Man, back up,” I smirked while lightly pushing her away. She moved right back into my space.

“No, because why is you doing all that with me?” She asked in a hushed tone. It wasn’t lost on me that she wanted to be quiet all of a sudden.

“Because you doing too much, Naz. Since when do we touch each other's phones?”

“Hold up, you mad about that?” She marveled.

Her confusion was valid because three days had passed and I hadn’t said or done anything that would lead her to believe that I was upset about her touching my phone. If I was being honest, I wasn’t mad that she answered my phone and Lourdes was on the other end of the call. In a way that felt like sweet revenge. She was living with another nigga while she had me thinking we were on some exclusive shit, so it served her right to find out I’d moved on with my life. All that petty shit went down the drain when I was trying to reach out to her about the baby she claimed was mine. All that drama with Naz combined with my harsh response was the reason why I couldn’t get in contact with her. So now I was mad at Naz for touching my fucking phone. She had no business doing some lame shit like that.

“Yea, man. I don’t touch your phone.”