Page 108 of Kitty-Kitty, Bang-Bang

“I ain’t afraid of shit, nigga.”

Bitch, stop lyin’. You say you a real bitch, then keep da shit a hunnid wit’ da nigga.

“Yo, if you wanna keep livin’ ya life in fear, then do you. But, you gonna miss out on some good shit.”

I huff. “Like what, you?”

“Nah, like freedom.”

I frown. “Nigga, what are you talkin’ ’bout? I am free.”

He shakes his head. “Baby, as long as you keep livin’ in fear, you’ll never be free.”

“I’m neva gone be da kinda bitch you gonna try’n run game on. I’m not da kinda bitch you think you gonna hurt and it be all gravy. No, nigga, I’m da kinda bitch who’ll put a bullet in ya shit. And unlike that bitch, Ramona, I pop niggas and drop niggas, in one shot.” He bucks his eyes. I can tell I done shocked ’im. I walk ova to the door, swingin’ it open. “It’s time for you to bounce.”

“So you really ain’t fuckin’ wit’ me?” I can tell he’s tryna keep it together. I can hear his voice crackin’.

I shake my head, openin’ the door. “I can’t.”

“Oh, aiight. Then I guess it’s goodbye.”

“I guess so.” We’re standin’ in front of each otha. He’s lookin’ into my eyes. And I’m lookin’ into his. I’ve neva seen this nigga look so broken. “I don’t want you to think I hate you, ’cause I don’t. Keepin’ shit real, I care ’bout you. And I’m sure you have da potential to be a good man, but I can’t chance you draggin’ me into no dumb shit. I have a baby to think ’bout now. And I don’t want drama in my life.”

“So you gotta ’nother nigga in ya life?”

“Alex, da only nigga in my life is that lil’ boy upstairs. That’s da only man I have da energy for right now.” He asks me ’bout the sign outside. Wants to know where I plan on movin’. I tell ’im I don’t know. Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell ’im anyway. He wants to know if I’m gonna stay in Jersey, or move back to Brooklyn. I shrug. “I seriously doubt it.”

“I feel you. Yo, I thought you said I get three strikes? I should have two left.”

“Gettin’ ya tires slashed in my driveway was strike one. Actin’ funny ’n shit and gettin’ ghost on a bitch was strike two. And not keepin’ shit real wit’ me ’bout that bitch was strike three.”

I walk up on ’im, and do sumthin’ I know I probably shouldn’t. I pull him by his shirt down to me, standin’ up on my tippy-toes. I kiss ’im on the lips. Let the nigga slip his tongue in my mouth. My pussy starts to pop as his hands start roamin’ all ova my body.

“I’ve missed you so much. Don’t do this to us, baby. Give me anotha chance.”

Fuck da nigga one more time, ho.

I can’t do this shit wit’ him.

Bitch, puhleeze. You know you wanna ride da nigga’s dick.

I pull away. “I can’t.”

He hangs his head, lookin’ defeated as he walks out. I watch ’im walk to his car, get in, then back out. He’s lookin’ at me, and I’m lookin’ at ’im. I wave to ’im. And he blows the horn. I don’t shut the door ’til I can no longer see his car, then I press my back up against the door, closin’ my eyes and bangin’ my head up against it. Bitch, you know you care ’bout his ass. You should gave da nigga anotha chance.

I can’t take that kinda chance. I can’t let da nigga get all up in my head, then fuck up my heart.

Ho, get ova ya’self. You know da nigga cares ’bout you. You saw da shit in his eyes.

Call da nigga and tell ’im to come back.

Hell no! I can’t fuck wit’ ’im.

I take a deep breath, walkin’ up the stairs to get showered and dressed. For some reason, a bitch is feelin’ kinda down. I know, think, in my head, I’m doin’ the right thing, but my heart is tellin’ me sumthin’ different. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Six months later

---