Page 4

Three

What’s wrong with me? I asked myself over and over, hoping to get an answer. Days like this, I was grateful for Angel having a thriving business. Something to keep her busy and not worried about me. Each month she made double than what she made the past month.

I used to think money made me completely happy, and I wanted to believe that it was still the case. Lately, I’ve been feeling misplaced with myself and not really knowing what else I wanted out of life. Anytime I smoked weed, I started thinking deep about where my life was headed.

I had loving parents just like Angel. I was ashamed of myself whenever I did go around them because they had so many questions about my life and what I was doing as far as work. All I could do was come up with lies on top of lies. I was thirty years old with no real job besides being a high paid escort. I was good arm candy for any man in the rapping or acting industry.

I lied to my parents so much that I couldn’t seem to keep up with all of my lies. They thought I was a nurse since I faked school. Last year, I told them that it wasn’t my passion. My father was disappointed but was ready to fund my next lie, which was cosmetology. Truth is, I never wanted to work but didn’t have a skill. I liked to look pretty and get pampered yet, lately, even that was starting to become boring.

When I first met Chedda, I fell in love almost instantly. I was seventeen years old and he was twenty-three. He used to pick his little brother up from school, then throw his best game at me. I was sixteen when I first saw him outside of my school waiting for his brother to walk out the front gate. He’d wink at me, I would melt and feel giddy inside, then keep walking in the opposite direction because my momma always warned me about older men trying to talk to high school girls.

When I got in twelfth grade, and turned seventeen, Chedda got real bold and called me over to his car. I snuck out of my bedroom that same night and loss my virginity to him, and we’ve been glued to one another from that day moving forward. I hid him well from my parents until I turned twenty years old. My mom loved Chedda as her own; my big brother Nathan and him end up being close friends.

One thing about my mom is she didn’t bite her tongue. She spoke her mind and she would always tell me…

“Just because a man is trying his best, Tavi… doesn’t mean you have to accept that.”

I did not understand that shit at all because in my young mind back when I was twenty, I felt like Chedda was doing his very best. He spoiled me more than my parents spoiled me. When I turned twenty-five the heartbreaks started to happen. Chedda stop trying his best, and his best wasn’t good enough. He started creating this crazy distance with me that pained me to my core.

I had no proof of him cheating, but I could feel it in my soul. I started to wonder if I was getting too boring for him. I caught him cheating on the night of me celebrating Angel’s birthday. I tried to beat the woman’s ass, but Chedda wouldn’t let me. He told me that it was over and how he was out here making really good money. By this time, Chedda was knee deep in the industry. He stepped his game up from selling bricks of cocaine to producing beats and selling them for a lot of money.

I couldn’t eat for weeks and wasn’t myself, although Angel was by my side, helping me get through our break up. I thought I would die from him leaving me. He finally came back around three weeks later explaining how that woman he was with was one of his top tier escorts. He bragged how she’s the reason that I’m able to wear expensive clothes and how she’s the one that keeps his pockets fat.

Chedda told me that, he was coming to me as a man to give me closure. He explained to me how he knew that I was a good woman and couldn’t take hurting me. I didn’t understand back then, how he didn’t see that he was my first everything. I panicked as soon as he stood and made his way to the door. Calling his name and begging for him not to leave was probably one of the worse mistakes that I made.

I just couldn’t imagine living without him. The way that he loved on me and touched me had my head too far gone. Even now, when I’m with clients, none of them knew my body like Chedda. When he’s not being an asshole, he’s loving and very charming. I wanted the old him back, a small part of me felt like he would soon come around, but as the days went by, I started to understand where Angel was coming from.

My stupid ass thought doing what he asked of me would make him love and respect me more, but it worked against me. The more clients he placed me with, the harder his disrespect came. He no longer talked to me softly, or even kissed me passionately. I admitted to myself four years ago that I was weak as fuck. I always thought out all the things that I wanted to say to him but could never utter them once he was in my presence. I could curse other people out and stand up for myself. I knew how to walk in any room and own it, making females question their own confidence. When it came to Chedda… I didn’t want to be apart from him. It was his gangsta mentality and the way he carried himself that had me glued to him like crazy glue. Chedda was fine as hell and had the gift of gab. I could be having the worse day ever, and he’d say about one sentence, making everything better in less than a minute.

I really didn’t know how to function without him. I think that’s what gave me depression, making me feel low of myself. I could stare at myself in the mirror for an entire hour like I was doing now, and stare back at my beautiful reflection. From the beginning ’til now, I had loved Chedda with all of me.

He would call, and I’d drop everything to tend to him. He was the only man that I have ever loved, and even through the broken promises, and all the lies he told me, I was standing here in booty shorts and a sports bra, awaiting his arrival. I practiced my argument with him over and over and prayed to God that I wouldn’t fold when I finally laid eyes on him today.

I had to explain why this so-called client fired me on the first day. I wasn’t too worried about that because once I told Chedda why he fired me, he would agree that the guy was asking for too damn much. The sound of my front door being slammed rattled my nerves. I sucked in a deep breath and pushed my shoulders back. Gathering courage to face Chedda without my raw emotions on display was a very hard task for me.

“Natavi!” His deep bounced off the walls.

I stepped out of the bathroom timidly. I walked down our narrow hallway then stepped into the living room. Chedda stood perplexed and fine as hell. Dressed casual with light gray sweatpants and a white crewneck shirt, he took his gun out of his sweats and set it down on my glass coffee table.

“What’s good, Ma?” He smirked, opening up his arms for a hug.

My chest constricted as my heart fluttered. My eyes misted over instantly, thinking about him giving all of his love to that wife of his when I was here first. How could he choose her over me? My bottom lip started to tremble at the harsh reality of being a side chick to a married man that kept having baby after baby but made me get rid of every baby he impregnated me with.

“Natavi? I’m standing here with open arms, the fuck wrong with you? Get over here and show me some love, Ma.” Chedda’s voice dropped low.

I sucked in my feelings and ignored the burn in my throat. I felt disgusted with how weak I was. It felt like my world was spinning with raw emotions that I struggled to contain whenever he was around me. I wanted to fall down to my knees and sob in front of him so he could see and understand how broken he was making me.

Instead, I walked into his arms. I inhaled his specialized scent of weed mixed with cologne. Throwing my arms around his neck, I stood on my tippy toes to kiss him on the side of his mouth. I shivered when his hands grabbed a handful of each ass cheek. Squeezing lightly then pulling his right hand back to smack me right on the ass, I got lost in his handsome features.

Chedda was six feet, with almond smooth skin. His thick bushy eyebrows matched the thickness of his long connecting beard. Gold wrapped around his neck and wrist.

“You seem stressed the fuck out,” he murmured as he buried his nose in the crook of my neck.

“I’m fine, I just miss you, Chedda…I miss us,” I confessed, feeling my stomach tighten.

I was ready for his rejection. This time, I wouldn’t make matters worse by begging and crying for his love only for him to turn his back on me.

“I missed you too, baby. You cook for me, though? I got about two hours before I—” He stopped talking as he released me out of his hold.

Chedda plopped down on the couch, opening his legs wide. I looked down at his dick print and frowned at how it stuck up through his sweats. I wondered if he was coming here to fuck or ask me about why his high paying client fired me. Chedda was about his money, he cared about that first. I never had to split my cut with him because, whenever he arranged my clients, he took his finder’s fee and then they paid me my portion, which was always six figures.

I didn’t know how much Chedda got but he seemed to thrive off of it. Who knows how many other females he had doing all of this. He didn’t finish his sentence because he was probably getting ready to say some shit that would surely piss me off; not like he gave a fuck about my actual feelings, though.

“Every time I come around you…You look lost as fuck. Tell me, what the fuck is wrong with you? You getting fired on the first night is new.” Chedda’s eyes darkened.

He pulled a blunt from behind his ear and dug into his pocket to get a lighter. He opened and closed his legs, making his dick jump up and down.

“He’s from Dubai! The money was good, but?—”

“The money is always good, Tavi.” He frowned.

“Yes, the money was good, but he wanted to shit and piss on me! I barely like to open my legs for these men. You told me that you would get more downlow men so they wouldn’t want to touch me! You booked me with the lowest of low with this last client. Do you even give a fuck about me, Chedda!” I curled my top lip to stop it from trembling.

I couldn’t stop the tears, even if a gun was placed to the center of my damn head. Chedda stood up and I flinched. He never open handed hit me, but he could do evil things like pinch the skin off of me whenever he felt like I was being disrespectful.

“You question my love for you?” He asked as he raised one of his thick brows.

“I’ve been questioning it, since you?—”

Chedda pressed his index finger to my top and bottom lip and shook his head.

“My wife and kids, off limits. I know you think mentioning them will make me feel bad, but I don’t. You had a choice… Years ago, I told you that you were too pure, and that I didn’t want to taint you. I tried giving you closure and even tried to walk away.” His tone of voice was cunning.

“I loved you! I couldn’t live without you at the time, Chedda! I was willing to do anything for you to save us!” I dropped my head, sobbing lowly.

My shoulders shook. Right in front of him, I turned into a broken mess.

“That’s where you fucked up at. I love you a lot, but I stopped being in love with you after the first client you took on. You should have stood on solid ten toes, and let me walk out of the door. I would have came back after you and married you for standing solid and not degrading yourself. Keep it real, you love money, that’s why you won’t stop taking on more high paying clients. I don’t got a gun to your head forcing you?—”

“I do it to prove my love! How can you stand here and say all of this like you don’t play games! You just now saying this after all the promises and lies? I haven’t even fucked half of the clients you send my way.”

“You fucked enough! I was the first to have that pussy, you gave it away!” His voice boomed.

“You begged me too, each time you told me?—”

“Fuck what I told you! You weren’t supposed to agree, so don’t stand here all sentimental thinking those tears gon’ move me to leave my wife and fuckin’’ kids. Face it, Natavi… You a hoe, an industry plant, industry pass around slut. Rappers brag about how good the head and pussy is; you good at what the fuck you do. I expect my finder’s fee every month since I’m the one that taught you every damn thing that you do with the next man. I don’t even?—”

“Fine! Fuck this, and fuck you, Chedda. You’re a narcistic, manipulating bastard! Book another client, and I’m sure that I’ll fuck him good enough to forget about you!” I spat, turning my back to him.

I refused to let him see me cry, Chedda knew the type of hold he had on me. It was a waste of time expressing myself. My mind switched from emotional to survival. I needed to start saving my money and figuring out what I wanted to do with myself other than accepting clients from Chedda.

“You will never forget about me, doesn’t matter who you fuck.” Chedda eyed me evilly.

He took a seat as if my words had no type of effect on him. Sitting up, he snatched my wrist roughly, making me fall right into his lap. Before I could move off of his lap, he leaned in, his fingers moving in a deliberate motion. Without no other words, he grabbed my thigh, pinching the skin between his thumb and index finger.

The sharp pressure became intense as I yelped out then screamed his name, begging for him to stop. I tried to jerk away but it only made discomfort spread throughout my body at a rapid pace.

“See bitch, you been getting mouthy lately because I haven’t checked your ass good enough. I had to refund the man from Dubai, so that puts me at a disadvantage. I was able to get a new client; you probably won’t like him either…But bitch you better suck in that boujie shit and make this new man feel good or I’ll not only break you, but I’ll take Miss. Ompa Loopa on a ride to hell since she always pumping your brain up with—” Chedda’s words cut off the moment my front door opened with Angel walking through it.