God Don't Like Haters (4 page)

You're with the wrong nigga, I think you know it
too/ but what you don't realize is the shit I'm going through

My hands crawled inside of
my Spandex and I started fingering myself. Words of my own started
to tumble around in my head, floating together to form
poetry. 
My moisture is not a
choice,
 I sang in my
mind.
 It's drawn out of me by the
sound of your voice.

I loved playing with words while I was
playing with myself.

You have to make up your mind first, boy/ stop
giving them other hoes your time first, boy/ then maybe we could
be/ and I can show you what kind of freak I be

Suddenly, my headphones were snatched from
my head and the cord popped out of the laptop. Coras's lyrics now
filled the entire living room.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Archie
hollered.

I was cold busted. "Nothing," I said in a
childish tone.

"Nothing?"

Archie was a bear when he got mad. Chest
puffed out, fists balled. He only had his boxers on right now—a
pair with green martians stamped all over it that I got him for his
birthday last year—so it was hard for me to find him threatening.
He snatched my laptop and flung it across the room. I heard it
crack. Even though I had all of my important stuff backed up in
cloud storage, I was still pissed.

"It looked like you were fingering yourself
to the sound of Coras's voice," he said, stepping closer to me. "Is
that what you were doing?"

Deny. Deny. Deny.

"No, Archie, I was thinking of you."

He smacked me.

It wasn't a hard smack, but this was the
first time he had put his hands on me so I was stunned. I told him
once before that if he ever hit me I would kill him. I had said it
jokingly, but I wasn't joking.

"You deserved that," he said to me. "This is
my house. A man is generous enough to let you move in his house at
14, and then you lie to that man in his face? Keep it real wit' me.
I already know you wanna fuck that nigga. You think I'm blind? If
you knew what was good for you ... Where are you going?"

I left him standing there talking, went into
the bedroom and grabbed my .380 pistol from under the mattress.
Right when I cocked it back, Archie appeared in the doorway.

"You gon' shoot me?" he asked, like he
thought I wouldn’t do it.

I pointed it at his chest. "I told you what I
was gonna do if you ever put yo hands on me, didn't I?"

"And I told you what I would do if you ever
cheated on me," he countered. "I would beat yo muthafucking ass.
You lucky you only got a smack. I don't care if you got that gun,
or that you shot somebody before. I ain't her. You know better.
Bitch, I raised you—"

I lowered my aim a
bit. 
Bang!

He took a step back with his right leg,
because I had shot him in his left. He was shocked, and I was
shocked that he didn't fall.

"Kirbie!" He said my name like I was a child
that had just been caught scribbling on the walls. "What the fuck,
Kirbie?"

Blood was running down his hairy leg.

I was thinking about shooting him again until
he took another staggering step back and finally lost his balance.
His left leg stayed straight as he fell.

"Put yo hands on me again
and I 
will
 kill you!" I spat. "You hear me, nigga?"

"Kirbie, you don't need a gun. You're fucking
crazy."

"Well don't try me!"

"I'm sorry," he said.

I grabbed my suitcase and heaved it up on the
bed. I packed it full and placed my gun on top and zipped it
up.

"Where you going?" he asked, breathing
hard.

His blood was pooling on the hardwood floor.
I didn't want him to die but I wasn't going to help him either.

Extending the suitcase's handle, I lugged the
suitcase past him on wheels.

"I said I was sorry!" he shouted.

CHAPTER 6

Monifa Chavis

I was laying on my stomach, propped up on my elbows
as Coras fucked me from behind. I had my hands clasped together
under me as he pulled my hair, forcing me to grit my teeth.

Even though I felt like I was starting to
lose consciousness—in a good, mesmerizing way—I fixed my lips to
utter, "Is that all you got, Coras? Harder!"

This amazing man dug deeper
with his barbarous penis, made me scream for him
to, 
Chill okay, sorry, chill,
Coras,
 but he just pushed my face
into the pillows, nearly suffocating me.

It wasn't often he fucked me like this, and I
was going to enjoy it. It would have been an even better experience
if one of his and Kirbie's songs wasn't playing in the background.
It was annoying hearing her sing while he fucked me.

"Can you turn that down?" I asked.

"You just told me to turn up," he said back
as he long-stroked me.

"I was talking about your dick, not the
music, baby ..."

"What's wrong with the music? You don't like
my raps?"

"I do. Just not the songs with Kirbie on
them."

"Grin and bear it," he told me.

I let him keep pounding my backside only
because I didn't want to ruin a good fuck session. Over the past
few months I felt like I had been losing him to the studio, and the
times we did get to spend together I tried to cherish.

So I'd forgive him for the music today, as
long as he continued to make my pussy queef and hiss like it was
now. But tomorrow, I was hiding any and all CDs that featured
Kirbie.

My qualm with Kirbie was less about jealousy
and more about proximity. This bitch was around my man more than
me! Maybe I needed to start singing; maybe I'd get more Coras time.
The only problem was I couldn't sing. At least not good enough to
get signed to Swope Records, apparently.

Another thing that pissed
me off about Kirbie was how she always felt the need to tag Coras
in almost all of her status updates. 
Bitch, you got a man! Tag Archie!
 Every other day she was posting a selfie with him in
the studio, or at the local record store 7th Heaven dropping off
discs, selfies with him pouring her drinks or laughing together. I
was waiting for her to post the selfie of them fucking so I could
post the selfie of me killing them both! I wouldn't be surprised if
people on The Site thought Kirbie was his girl and not
me.

There was Ashleigh Hedgman too. Coras's
manager. She was on my watch-list too. She wasn't as crowding as
Kirbie, but I was still suspicious of her. I never trusted
light-skinned bitches, and Ashleigh was near white. Every time she
came to the house she'd look at me like I was beneath her. Just
because you could speak better than somebody didn't mean you were
better than that person.

"Yo booty is my bae," Coras said, snapping me
out of my negative thoughts.

I smiled. Coras always said
something stupid whenever he was in the middle of cumming inside of
me. I just hoped this time his cum found a home. I should
have 
been
 pregnant by now. And I didn't know if it was his
biology or mine that was holding us up.

Coras pulled out of me, ever so slow. This
was the worst part for me, feeling Mr. Pete’s weight exit my moist
womb. It felt like theft.

Don't go, Pete. Stay a little longer ...

"Can we go see a movie today?" I asked.

Coras was pulling on his jeans. "What
movie?"

"I don't know. Any one. I just wanna see it
with you."

"Just tell me what movie you wanna see. I can
get it on DVD from Gee Beats's cousin. He always got the new
releases, even the ones still in the theatre."

"I don't wanna sit here and watch a bootleg
movie in the house. I wanna go out on the town with you and
experience Kansas City. I wanna tag us outdoors together on The
Site, show people we're still in love. They have a new theatre in
Overland Park."

"I'd love to go out with you tonight, but I
gotta go to the studio. Successful people do what they have to do
whether they want to or not. I got a company to build."

Fuck that
company,
 I
thought. 
You've been rapping for
years and haven't been on nobody's Billboard list yet.

"Find out what movie you wanna watch and text
it to me," he said on his way to the bathroom. "We'll watch it when
I get back."

The problem was I would be sleep by the time
he got back. He stayed in the studio till two and three in the
morning, regularly. Then expected me to wake up and suck his
dick.

Sometimes I felt like he was tolerating me
because he was buying dope from my big brother.

"That better not be the case," I mumbled to
myself.

My phone chimed, letting me know I had a
notification from The Site. I rolled over onto my back so I could
reach my phone on the nighstand, and in doing so I felt Coras's cum
shift inside of me. I bent my knees so it didn't escape, then
brought my phone up and swiped the screen.

Kirbie had made a new
status update. I had my Site page set up to notify me whenever she
posted online. Why would I track somebody I hated?
Simple: 
Keep your friends close and
your enemies closer.
 Her status
read:

Kirbie Amor:
 Be Careful of the ones you
love. They'll turn on you in a snap. When they do, make sure you're
prepared to keep it moving. #NewSongAboutBetrayal #ComingSoon
#NeverLetAManPutHisHandsOnYou

The first thing that came
to my mind after reading her status was, 
Her and Archie must be having problems.
 Smiling, I went to Archie's profile page to confirm my
suspicions. His latest update read:

ArchieGotSkittles36:
 I wanna let
everybody know what really happened but I know it’s not appropriate
for the internet. But I will say this: Why am I the one bleeding?
You act like a man so take yo lick like one. Weren’t you in the
wrong first? #ThingsThatMakeYouGoHmm #iMightNeedCrutches
#KindnessForWeakness

Drama! 
I loved it when two
people in a relationship had accessible Site pages. It was a soap
opera. As far as my own situation, I liked to post my feelings
about my love life a lot but 
my
man
, Coras, barely used social media at
all so Site users only got my side of the story. With Kirbie and
Archie, their relationship was an open book.

I clicked Like on Archie's post, then logged
off of the Site—only to log in as Coras. What I was about to do was
wrong, but I didn't care.

I went back to Kirbie's profile page to
leave a comment in Coras's name. Coras would be none the wiser
because, like I said, he rarely ever used social media. He hadn't
caught me posting stats in his name yet and if he ever did suspect
me of tampering with his Site page I would just deny it and blame
it on a hacker.

Under Kirbie's latest post, I typed:

Coras Bane:
 Good thing I don't have to
worry about a loved one turning they back on me. @MonifaChavis
always got my back. 

As soon as saw that the
post updated successfully, I turned my phone off and set it back
down on the nightstand. I hugged my knees to my nude chest, smiling
like a little girl. Some people would call what I just did hating.
But when it was your man involved, it was called
 strategizing to protect what's yours.

CHAPTER 7

Kirbie Amor Capelton

I was at my father's house in my old room, laying in
my old bed. It hadn't changed much since I left the house at 14
years old—all the furniture was in the same place and there were no
posters on the wall because my daddy never let me pin up any. The
room remained neutral. You couldn't tell if this was a boy or
girl's room.

Not being able to
personalize my space was one of many things that made me run away
so young and never come back. But the number one thing was the
physical abuse. My father beat me for the smallest shit back then.
And sometimes he hit me for no reason at all. He had been suffering
from alcoholism, which intensified whenever he thought of my mother
who left him—who left 
us
—shortly after I was
born.

I remember the single horrific incident that
made me run away like my mother had. He used the iron instead of
the belt. The first swing was the worst. The iron was still hot; it
stamped me in my ribs, breaking them. I hadn't even known what I'd
done.

"Daddy,
please!"
 I had screamed as I
scrambled to the edge of my bed, rolling off of it onto the floor.
It was the worst thing I could have done. I had boxed myself into a
corner. 
"Daddy, what did I
do?!"

"You snore like your
mother,"
 he had
slurred. 
"You're doing it on purpose
..."

It was at that point, as he
winded up the iron by its cord again, I realized that as much as I
tried 
not
 to be like my mother—a mother I had never met and knew
nothing about—there was no way I could undo his comparisons. I
wasn't even safe in my sleep.

But after I found Archie and I'd been away
from home for a few years, my father sunk deeper into depression
and finally found God. He started going to church faithfully. He
changed his life around, stopped drinking cold turkey, and we were
able to repair our relationship. I could come here whenever I was
having problems with Archie.