Page 32 of Down With the King of the South (Down With the King of the South 1)

I wasn’t crying in front of Shae because I had to be strong for her, but mannn when I got alone, I swear I broke down. Everyone thought that I was so tough and that I didn’t have a weak bone in my body, but dealing with something like this can make the biggest person fold. Vonte was like the son that I never had, and just like that, he was gone. He and I had a great relationship. Whenever the two of us were around each other, it was always laughter between the two of us. “Auntie Mahogany” is what he used to call me, and it sucked that I’d never hear him say it again.

“Too bad I’m not a girl. I’m a whole ass woman. Besides, I don’t want you to like me, nigga. It’s not like I like your ass,” I said, blowing the smoke out and passing it to him.

“How you letting someone fuck you, yet you don’t like them? How the fuck that even make sense?” he asked with the blunt between his lips.

“It makes the perfect amount of sense. I like your dick and your mouth,” I shot back with a smile on my face.

“Where do heartless bitches like you come from, shorty? You gotta be from Mars or some shit,” he said, and his dumb ass started choking on the weed.

I don’t know why, but I found myself laughing at the stupid shit he’d just said.

“The same place where disrespectful niggas like you come from. Why you think I’m heartless, though? I’m mean, but I wouldn’t say I’m heartless,” I asked, curious to know.

“You different from any other broad that I done fucked with. I fuck these bitches, and before the nut can even leave my dick, they already hitting me with that ‘so what are we,’ bullshit. This my second time fuckin’ you and, not that I’m

keeping count, but I’ve made you cum a total of six times, I eat your pussy from the front to the back, I even slipped my tongue in your ass, shorty. I don’t even think about busting until you get yours off, yet you still talking about you don’t like me. Am I missing something here?” he asked.

I looked at him with a serious expression on my face, and I shook my head.

“Because I’m not that bitch that’s going to be on your dick like these other broads that you mess around with. I’m just doing to you what niggas do to bitches all the time. Besides me doing it tonight, when the last time a bitch sucked your dick good?” I asked.

“Shit, like two nights ago,” he said.

“And do you like her?” I asked.

“Hell nah.”

“My fuckin’ point! You niggas do it all the time! So why when a woman does it, the shit gets questioned?” I asked, raising an eyebrow because I seriously wanted to know.

“Because you’re a woman. You can’t do the shit that men do. Women are supposed to be the gentle ones, the ones with feelings, the ones who fall in love. We not supposed to be neck and neck when it comes to how many bodies we got up under our belt,” he said, and I shook my head because he sounded like a typical man.

“Are people still living with the impression that women can’t do the same shit that men do? My nigga, did you forget that last election term, we had a woman trying to run for president? There are women football players, construction workers, all that. Us women can do anything that a man can do and probably do the shit ten times better, if you ask me,” I said and rolled my eyes at him.

He tried to hand me back the blunt, but I slapped it away. I could already tell by me talking so damn much that I was damn near high already. Jabari came with the weed and the dick, and this weed was powerful, just like the dick.

“Swear your ass should have been a lawyer,” he went on to say.

“Yeah, whatever. When are you leaving? I got what I needed from you,” I said then picked up my phone that was on the nightstand to look at the time. It was late, and I was so damn tired.

“Cook me something. I’m hungry. I been running the streets all day, exploring new business ventures, and I just realized I didn’t eat anything today. Your pussy is the only meal I had today,” he said, and it turned me on to hear him say that.

I’ll be the first to admit that Jabari was fine. His body was so big and cocky sitting against the headboard of my bed. He had beautiful caramel skin, and because his shirt was off, I could see the tattoos that took up most of his upper chest. His skin was smooth like silk. The nice grade of hair that made you fall in love with his jet black waves. I loved a man with a beard. A real beard, not that shit with the black spray and all of that other shit. Jabari’s was long, full, and thick.

I paid attention to every detail when it came to a man. Therefore I noticed his nice teeth, with his good smelling breath, his fingernails looked as if he got manicures, plus he had nice feet. Because I could see the side of him, I even peeked in his ears, just to see if he had any ear wax, and his ears were free of that as well. Jabari was that dude, but I would lose every single piece of my sanity if I were to take him seriously. I could just tell from the few times that we’ve been with each other that we were toxic as hell for one another.

“Running the streets? What is it that you do again? Please don’t tell me that you're trying to become a rapper or you sell drugs, and you’re trying to become the next Nino Brown,” I said because I’ve dealt with too many niggas like that.

I couldn’t stand when a nigga tried to play his mixtape when he would get around me.

Jabari laughed at what I said, and I had to admit that he had a beautiful laugh.

“None of that, shorty. I own shoe stores. The shit started in Atlanta because that’s where I’m from. My ole girl raised me, and she was a real estate agent out there. The job paid well, so growing up, I didn’t really want for shit. I was into sneakers, all types of sneakers, but my favorite was Jordan’s. There wasn’t a pair of Jordan’s that I didn’t have. When I would outgrow my shoes, I would sell them. Niggas were willing to pay top dollar for Jordan’s because a lot of the ones that I had were exclusive. I was a hustler at heart, so I started selling my shoes that I could no longer wear, my clothes, all of that. My ole girl was cool with it because at least I wasn’t asking her for much.

“I always had the streets smarts, but my ole girl had talked to me about the importance of having book smarts as well. After high school, I took my ass to college, and I learned about the business side of shit. It took me about six years to have an understanding of all that shit. Once I graduated, I set up shop at this plaza that wasn’t too far from my apartment at the time. I went out there with a big ass tent and a truckload of shoe boxes. Sold all that shit in one day. Months later, I had enough to upgrade from selling under that tent, so I rented out a little office space, and I named my spot Kickz.

Months later, I outgrew that shit too, and I purchased a little store in that same plaza where I had my tent originally because it had gone up for sale. Outgrew that shit, and finally, I had my own store. Later on, came another. I let Miami get into my head and tell me that I needed to open a store out here in Miami. I have two, and right now, I’m working on a third one. Miami and I work alongside each other from time to time, especially when it’s time for the kids to go back to school. I give away almost a thousand pair of shoes every year just for back to school alone. I know you may think of a nigga as an asshole or what not, but I’m not that bad. I do alright for myself if you ask me,” he said.

I had judged the hell out of Jabari. Never would I have guessed that his shit talking ass was a business man. That right there made him even more attractive to me.

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