Tiffany and Dior: Love in Las Vegas Streets (6 page)

    “I know what you are trying to do and it's not working. Besides, that's more of a reason I am leaving . I don't want to see him!” I exclaimed.

“ Tiffany, I know what Dior meant to you. No matter what you loved him the same way you loved your mother and sisters. That type of love don't go away. I tell you no lie. When I be spending the nights at Rasheed house Dior don't bring any females there. Ever since he's been in these streets getting to this money. That's it. He loves you and I know you love him.” Paige stated.

       Everything she said was the truth but I didn't need her killing my vibe. I missed Dior and ever since that night I couldn't stop thinking about him. Every time I heard a love song I missed him. I wanted him but I also knew what I had at home. As much as I couldn't stand Black’s ways I did love him.

    “Well I can take you home, Tiffany,” December stated.

    “No, it's cool, girl. It's out of your way. Plus, Black be tripping. I don’t need him knowing what type of car you driving. I will just take an Uber.”

    “A’ight, ladies, I will see you guys this weekend. I love you.” December turned to give both of us a hug before leaving.

      Purposely, she made her butt jiggle as she walked past the fellas. I didn't know ol’ boy’s name but I knew she was hurting his feelings because she didn't give him no play. I couldn't stand guys like that either. Cocky, street niggas who thought they could get whoever they wanted because they had money. Less than ten minutes later the Uber driver was outside and I couldn't wait to go home and get in bed.

    “Okay, bestie, I love you. Call me tomorrow,” I said to Paige, returning a hug and kiss.

    “Love you too, girl. Get home safe. Thanks for coming,” Paige continued.

    I was getting ready to walk down the steps but I suddenly got the urge to pee. I decided to use the bathroom before I took that long ride back home. I was closing the door when I saw Rasheed stand up and slamming his Corona down on the table. 

      “Ayo, I won and everybody at this table already know whassup,” Rasheed stated as he tossed his cards on the table. His black Nike jogging suit rested against his caramel skin and medium athletic build. Sitting next to him one would think he was calm, cool, and collected. He was a pretty boy and people took him as being weak.
Don't let looks fool you.
He was one person you didn't want to piss off. He knew how to play spades. It was his father’s favorite game. They played it every day and he got so good he could play it with his eyes closed. 

    “Rasheed, my man, I won. Look at my hand.” Kane laughed.

    “Kane is right, bro. He won. You lost the bet. That's how the game goes sometimes, my nigga,” Peanut spoke up.

    “Man, shut up,” Rasheed spat.

    “Look, brah, give me my fucking money. Stop being a pussy, and just man up to the fact that you lost. You a sorry ass loser, pretty boy Rasheed,” Kane said as he lifted up his shirt, flashing his chrome .45, then pulling out a stack of money. “I know niggas ain’t come here to die tonight so don’t give me a reason, you feel me? No disrespect in front of your lady, but nigga, you know what time it is,” Kane said as he looked at Peanut and then Rasheed.

      Seeing how his friend was acting, I was so glad I leaving. Paige sat there proudly of her baby father. She loved seeing him react to anyone he felt was disrespecting him.

      “ See you later Paige and bye Rasheed.” I said as I looked at Paige and than at Rasheed.

    “Aye, little momma, go start my car up. Get home safe Tiffany,” Rasheed said to Paige, handing her his car keys. He watched as she made her way out the door. He sat quietly, listening for the sound of the front door being closed. When he heard the door shut he stared up at Kane.

    “Yo, chill Kane. You know the streets been empty these past few months. I mean not for us.” Peanut chuckled as he stared at Rasheed then at Kane.

“ Aye mane, Peanut right the streets been empty and I hustled my ass off to make that money. That's all o got my nigga.

“Yo, Rasheed, we told you to come fuck with us. We getting money. But you fucking lost, mane,” Peanut said.

“ Another Loss, pretty boy Rasheed.” Kane smirked.

    “A'ight then, I’m out.” Rasheed tossed $5,000 wrapped in a rubber band onto the wooden table.

    “Come on, Rasheed, you don’t have to leave,” Peanut shouted as Rasheed headed towards the door.

     “Bye, nigga, and don’t come back until you learn how to play cards. Ugly ass nigga. Oh and tell light-skin with the phat ass she could’ve said bye to a nigga,” Kane murmured, but Rasheed was gone. “Yo, turn that Chief Keef back up! I want my music loud, and where those bitches you said was coming over?” Kane took a seat drinking white Remy straight from the bottle.

    “Lala just texted me. She said she was in a cab. They coming,” Peanut responded
.

    “Peanut, wake Larry drunk ass up. Them bitches need somewhere to sit besides on my dick.” Bishop smirked. Larry picked his head up from what looked to be a slumber on the living room couch. Larry then stood to his feet to let it be known that he wasn’t sleeping.

    “Look man, I wasn't sle—” Larry’s sentence was cut off when the doorbell rang.

“See, there they go right there. You all impatient and shit,” Peanut said hesitantly as he gulped down the rest of his drink.

    “Yo, be a gentlemen and open the door Larry,” Kane demanded.

    “Yo, damn, what took you so long?” Larry said as he opened the door.

    “My mother was tripping and wouldn’t let me leave the house. Where Kane? Move, I need to use the bathroom.” Larry moved to the side while Lala and her girls walked in the door. Larry was so intrigued by the phat ass and thighs that he was about to partake in, that he didn’t notice the presence of someone standing outside the door until the girls made their way into the dining room where the card game was taking place. “Damn, you back so soon?”

   Pop! Pop! Pop!

   “Ayo, Kane get down. I got this,” Peanut yelled as he jumped up from the sound of gunshots coming from downstairs. He pulled out his gun that was tucked at his waist.

   Pop! Pop! Pop!

   “Yo, please take all of the money. Don’t kill me.” Kane was on his back with his bloody hand covering his chest as he begged the intruder to spare his life.

   Boom!
The bullet pierced through his chest.

                  Three hours later

      “Tiffany, wake up! Tiffany, wake up!” I opened and closed my eyes, pulling the covers over my face. I tried to go back to sleep and ignore the small voice of my seven-year-old nephew Mason as he climbed into my California king-sized bed that I shared with my boyfriend Black, who wasn’t lying beside me, as usual.

      We will get back to that later, I thought to myself, getting all in my feelings thinking about him.

      I glanced at the flashing numbers that were glowing from the alarm clock on my nightstand. It was 6:45 a.m. and I had just fallen asleep an hour ago.

     “What, Mason!?”  I yawned. I hated when he barged into my room this early in the morning. I wasn’t ready to start my day. I rolled over, staring into his almond shaped eyes.

     “Tiffany, get up!” he said as he continued to mush me. “Uncle Black is home. It’s time to come downstairs! I think he has something for us!” he urged. “Do you think it’s presents? Is Uncle Black going to let us celebrate Christmas this year? Tiffany, is it true Christmas is the white man’s holiday and Jesus isn’t God? Who is Allah? Uncle Black says we have to start making Salat Jumu’ah on Fridays. What is salat? Tiffany!!! Wake up!”

     “Mason! Shut up!” I shouted, startling him. I stared into his eyes as tears tickled down his cheeks.

      I hated when he talked too damn much. He was a hyper kid and very inquisitive to be seven years old. Everything seemed to amaze him which made him even more curious.

      Tossing the cover back, I sat upright in my bed, stretching my arms into the air while twisting my back left to right. I leaned over to the other side of the bed, picking up my pink bonnet that rested on my pillow.

   “Stop asking so many questions! Don’t listen to Uncle Black,” I said to Mason as I wrapped my hair around my head, placing the silk bonnet back on.

     Happy birthday bitch, I said to myself, yawning one more time. I turned twenty-one today, but it didn’t matter. Black didn’t celebrate birthdays because he was Muslim so today was another day in the life of Tiffany Nicole.

     Finally, I slid on my silky ivory Gucci robe and then slid my feet into the Gucci slippers, courtesy of Black. I smirked as I made my way into my luxurious marble bathroom, turning on the faucet to wash my face and brush my teeth. Mason stood on his stool, following behind me with his toothbrush, doing the same daily routine.

     “I am sorry, Mason. I didn’t mean to yell at you.”  I remember when I was his age. Just like him, I would always ask a lot of questions. I was curious about everything.

  “Mason, look under my bed and pull that box out for me,” I shouted from inside of the bathroom.

     “Look under the bed? For what, Tiffany?” he whined.

     “Just look under the bed.” I turned off the light switch, closing the door behind me before walking back into my enormous master bedroom.

     “You got me a present? What is it?” he yelled, holding the box in the air.

     “Sssshhh, Mase, keep your voice down. I don’t want Black to come in here and catch you with that so hurry up! Open it!” I sat at the end of the bed watching as Mason tore through the wrapping paper I spent all of last night wrapping it in.
      Although Mason was my nephew he was more like the little brother I never had. The smile on his face was priceless. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“I love you, Tiffany.” He stood up, giving me a tight hug.

“I love you too and don’t tell nobody I gave that to you.” He nodded his head, letting me know that he understood.                                

     Heading down the long hallway I folded my arms in front of each other as chills covered my entire body. It was the middle of winter and Teresa had the heat blasting, but for some reason I was freezing as if I was in Alaska. I held my hand out for my nephew to grab and held on to his tiny hand tightly as we walked side by side down the gold staircase.

         The smell of breakfast filled the air downstairs. It was Christmas morning and Teresa would always cook us a big breakfast. I pulled out the chair for my nephew to take his seat. I sat at the head of the table.

              “Buenos dias, senorita,” Teresa spoke.

“Buenos dias, senora.” I smiled.

“Mason you not going to say good morning to me?” Teresa bent down in front of Mason so that she could be eye level with Mason, who was too busy playing with his Nintendo DS.

“Mason, Teresa is talking to you!”  I snatched his game out of his hands.

“Ugh! Give it back!” he whined while trying to remove it out of my hands.

“Say good morning to Teresa!” I demanded.

“Morning,” he murmured, reaching for his game.

“Say good morning to Teresa the way she taught us to say good morning.”

“I don’t want to say it in Spanish. I am not Spanish!” he spat.

“Mason, you keep it up you won’t get your game back!” I waved it in the air.

“It is okay, senorita. Mason won’t get any of my mantecodos. Plus I was going to make your cookies extra sweet!” she revealed.

“Teresa, please tell me you are not staying the whole day. It’s Christmas. You should be with your kids, your family,” I said sincerely.

“No…no…no…senorita, I must work,” she whispered.

       I was about to say something when Black took a seat at the far end of the table. When Black came into any room the atmosphere changed. On the outside he appeared be cool, calm, and collected. His black Tom Ford suit rested perfectly against his mahogany skin and medium athletic build.