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A Hood Dilemma is Still Bittersweet: A Naptown Triangle (A Bittersweet Hood Dilemma Book 3) Read online




  Shan Presents

  A Hood Dilemma is Still Bittersweet: A Naptown Triangle

  By Natavia

  Copyright 2015 by Natavia

  Published by Shan Presents

  All rights reserved

  www.shanpresents.com

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales or, is entirely coincidental.

  No portion of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without writer permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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  Dez

  “Nigga, run me my money,” I said to Butta, snatching up the money from the ground at the dice game on the corner by my building. I looked around for Osari, but I didn’t see him.

  “Ay, yo, you saw where Osari went?” I asked Butta.

  “He went inside of your crib,” Butta responded. I stuffed the wad of money in my pocket then headed into the crib. When I walked in Osari was walking down the hall. When he saw me he froze.

  “Move, nigga, I need to piss,” I said.

  “Your mama said she on the toilet,” he responded.

  “Nigga, my mama went out. I didn’t see her come in. You fucked up the bathroom, didn’t you? Nigga, we got air freshener. Don’t be embarrassed, now move,” I said, storming down the hall towards the bathroom. When I got to the door I heard moaning. I opened up the bathroom door and Lee had my mother bent over the sink, fucking her. He smacked her ass then pulled her hair. The sight made my blood boil. I balled up my fist and slammed it into the side of Lee’s face.

  “Nigga, you fucking my mama?” I asked, hitting him again. My mother started screaming as she and Lee both fell in the tub. My mother landed on top of Lee with her bare ass sticking straight up in the air.

  Osari ran into the bathroom. “You knew about this shit?” I asked him, ready to swing on him too.

  “Lil’ nigga you need to chill the fuck out. I just found out myself. If you want to swing on someone you better swing on that nigga,” Osari said.

  My mother grabbed her pants and underwear before she stormed past us, out of the bathroom. I knew she was embarrassed and she should be. Lee is only twenty-two.

  “Damn, Desiree got a fat ass,” Osari mumbled, as he looked at my mother’s ass.

  “It’s not even like that,” Lee said, as he quickly stood up, while trying to swiftly put his dick inside his pants.

  I punched him in the face, but this time his ass swung back on me. He and I started throwing blows at each other and we somehow ended up in the hallway on the floor.

  “Break it up, Osari. These niggas is fucking up my apartment! The rental office is going to charge me for that dent they put in the wall!” I heard my mother scream.

  “I ain’t got nothing to do with this shit here. You think you’re Stifler’s mom, don’t you?” Osari asked my mother. I’m going to end up fucking that nigga up too.

  “Osari, I will kick your ass, you hear me?” my mother asked Osari.

  Lee and I were still rolling around the floor, hitting each other. I elbowed him in the mouth and blood squirted out. Osari finally pulled us apart with the help of my mother.

  Lee stood up, wiping his mouth. “You bust my shit!” he shouted.

  “Nigga, fuck you!” I shouted back at him.

  “We can rap about this later,” Lee said, digging his ringing cell-phone out of his pocket. It was probably his shorty, Ivanka, calling him. He walked out of my apartment with Osari shaking his head, walking out behind him. It was just my mother and I standing in the hallway staring at each other.

  She lit up her Black and Mild. “You and that nigga is paying for that hole in the wall, you do know that, right?” my mother asked me.

  “I ain’t paying for shit. You smashing one of my niggas though, Ma?” I asked, hurt.

  “I’m grown. I don’t say shit about you fucking women my age and older!” she yelled at me.

  “Yes, you do. When I was fucking with Kiwanna that’s all you used to fuss at me about,” I said.

  “And? What mother wants her child fucking with a woman who has a lot of damn kids? Wasn’t you giving her money for them nappy-headed rascals? You are still a fucking child and that’s not your responsibility!” she yelled.

  “This shit is foul,” I said, as I walked into my room and slammed the door.

  “What the fuck did I tell you about slamming my damn doors, Dezerelle? Nigga, you can get the fuck out since you want to be grown!” she hollered. I ignored her as I rolled up my blunt and took a swig out of my bottle of Remy that was on my dresser. My cell phone rang and it was Kiwanna calling me for the hundredth time.

  “WHAT!” I answered the phone.

  “I need some money, Dez,” Kiwanna shrieked, with her baby crying in the background.

  “For what, man?” I asked her.

  “Rayshawn needs some pampers,” she answered.

  “What the fuck are you telling me for?” I asked her.

  “Because he is your damn son, that’s why, and if you don’t bring me the money, I will sit him at your front door in his carrier. I’m sick of this shit, Dez. He needs his father. You don’t want me to call Desiree up and tell her, do you?” she asked.

  “Bitch, I will call CPS on you and tell them about them big-ass roaches you got changing your babies’ pampers. Don’t fuck with me, shorty. I’m not in the mood. All of a sudden Rayshawn is my son because I don’t want to fuck with you no more?” I spat into the phone.

  “Think it’s a game. I will have police sent to your house!” Kiwanna cried into the phone.

  “Oh, word? Oh, you taking it there now, shorty? You want to play foul like that now? Okay, call the police. And when you do you better make sure you have the National Guard around your building because I will have that red dot trained on your forehead as soon as you walk out of that building!” I hollered before hanging up.

  I woke up in the middle of the night to the sounds of a baby crying and people arguing. I opened up my door then walked down the hallway to the front door.

  “That damn baby is not my grandchild!” my mother screamed at Kiwanna.

  “Oh, yes the fuck he is. Dez has been playing daddy for several months and he can’t just cut my son off like that. He needs his damn daddy!” Kiwanna yelled.

  “Well, call on Jesus then because that lil’ boy ain’t my damn grandchild. If you knock on my door again, bitch, I will beat that tired ass weave off yo’ head,” my mother fussed.

  I dug into my pants pocket peeling off a few twenties, throwing them at Kiwanna. “Take that shit and get the fuck away from my door,” I said to her. She picked up the money, stuffing it inside her bra, jumped down the stairs, then took off running, getting into her cab, leaving the baby behind.

  My mother slapped me on the back of my head. “You see what the fuck you got yourself into, Dez?” she asked. “I been told you not to take care of something that does not belong to you,” my mother screamed. I picked up Rayshawn’s carrier then took him in the house. He didn’t have nothing on but a dirty, shitty pamper. He smelled so bad I wanted to throw up.

  “Dez,
what the fuck are you doing?” my mother asked.

  “He is just a baby, Ma,” I said, taking him into the bathroom with her following behind me, cursing me out. I ran some bath water then took his pamper off of him. A small roach crawled out of his matted hair. My mother stood in the bathroom looking at me, then looking at him.

  “He’s your son, ain’t he?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, Ma,” I said.

  “What do you mean, you don’t know, Dez?” she asked.

  “She was fucking around when she got pregnant. I wasn’t the only nigga hitting her,” I said to her.

  “You fucked her without a condom?” my mother screamed.

  “It was a mistake,” I said.

  “Oh, no, not grown ass Dez! You don’t make mistakes! You got everything all planned out! You think you are grown, but at the end of the day you are only eighteen years old! Now, look where this shit has gotten you!” she yelled at me. I slammed the door in her face then locked it.

  “Maybe you should start reminding yourself about my age when you ask me for money for all the bills! You been asking me since I was fifteen to pay for shit, so, technically I am grown!” I spat from the other side of the door. She didn’t respond, she went into her bedroom, slamming the door. After I washed Rayshawn up, I went inside my closet to get some stuff out. I had bought a lot of items for him, but Kiwanna was starting too much shit, so I just kept it. I’m glad that I did because he didn’t have nothing.

  I fed him instant mashed potatoes and oatmeal. We didn’t have nothing else that a six-month old could eat. After he ate he went right to sleep on my bed. I called Kiwanna and she answered the phone with music blasting in the background. “Bitch, you are dead. Why the fuck would you do this? He was filthy!” I barked at her and she just laughed.

  “I have six other kids that need my attention! They ain’t got no damn daddy! They are either dead or locked up, so, he is your responsibility! I’m tired of taking care of him! I didn’t even want him. I was on birth control and still got pregnant with him! When I found out it was too late for me to have an abortion, so, he is better off with you!” she shouted into the phone, before hanging up.

  I looked at Rayshawn as he slept and wondered if he was really my son. When he was first born he didn’t look like either one of us, now, he is starting to develop some of my features. I searched the internet, looking for places to get a fast DNA test done. It was expensive, but I was tired of not knowing and the guilt was eating me up more and more every day.

  Tassana

  It’s been almost a month since I last saw Osari. Today I was meeting him so that he could spend some time with his son. I refuse to let him know where I lived. I know he forgave me for stealing from him and all of my other dirt. Although, Osari thinks I’m mad that he cheated, it’s really the time frame that he cheated in. I feel empty inside because I have no one, all because I have lived a trifling lifestyle. I have even thought about ending my life, but the sounds of my son’s cries are what brings me back to reality. He is all I have and I can’t let him down like I let everyone else in my life down. I pulled into the parking lot at Walmart next to Osari’s Cadillac. When he got out his eyes bored into mines, his look so intense, I looked away as I opened the door to the backseat. I reached across our baby’s carrier and unhooked the seatbelt. As I was bent over, Osari was standing closely behind me. Too close. He purposely had his dick pressed into my backside.

  “Damn, it. Can I have my space?” I asked him.

  “Shut the fuck up, Tassana. What are you about to do? I see you rocking the new short hair-do, got your tight pants on, your make-up done all nicely. Where the fuck are you ready to go?” he asked, taking the carrier from me.

  O.J. started cooing then Osari smiled. “What’s up, lil’ man? Your retarded-ass mama ain’t tryna let daddy come home,” Osari said to him. There was something about Osari that seemed different. I think he is maturing. He isn’t as evil as he used to be although he says off-the-wall things at times. His physique has changed and he is now sporting a beard that isn’t long and nasty. It was trimmed to perfection. He looked better than ever and I didn’t think that was possible.

  “So, I will meet you back here on Sunday,” I said to him. O.J. was spending the weekend with his father.

  “You know you wrong for waiting this long to let me see my son. Our personal problems ain’t got shit to do with me being able to see my son. Don’t let this shit happen again, Tassana,” he said, grabbing my face, looking down into my eyes.

  I smacked his hand away from me. “Make sure that airhead doesn’t come around my baby,” I said to him.

  “Airhead? Yo, what the fuck is you talking about?” he asked.

  “Kyree. Muthafucka, don’t act like you don’t know. You was just fucking her about a month ago. Maybe you still are fucking her. I don’t care about that. You better make sure that bitch stays away from my baby, Osari,” I said to him.

  “Let me leave before I slap the fuck out of your hoe ass,” he said.

  “Let me be a hoe. You been knew who I was. There has never been a question about it. What you saw is what you got. So, if I’m a hoe then what the hell are you, Osari? I remember a time when you paid for the pussy and even if it was for five hundred dollars, nigga, you wanted it and you still do. Have a nice day,” I said, getting inside my truck. He stared at me, seething, biting his bottom lip. I could tell I struck a nerve, but he knew what he was doing by calling me hoe. He walked away then I pulled off. When I got to the red light I burst into tears.

  “Let’s hang out, Tassana!” Kanae called and asked me. Kanae was my next door neighbor in my old neighborhood. She and I still keep in contact. When I went home from the hospital after my mother shot me, Kanae was there for me. In a short period of time she has been a shoulder to lean on. Nights when I needed someone to talk to, I could always call her and she would answer. She is another reason why I didn't commit suicide, although I think a lot about it.

  “Hang out where, Kanae? You know I’m more of a homebody now,” I said.

  “Let’s just go out and have fun. You need some air. You are still young, Tassana. Don’t let life pass you by like this. You only have one person to answer to and that’s God,” she said.

  “I know that. I just don’t feel like being around people,” I said.

  “You need to meet new people. You cannot let Osari control you anymore. Look, I’m coming to get you, so be ready in a few hours, I’m serious too. We are going to go out and have fun,” she said, prior to hanging up.

  It took me an hour to get home and when I made it in the house I called Osari to see what the baby was doing. I have to get used to him being away from me for a few days.

  “YOOOOO,” Osari answered.

  “What is the baby doing?” I asked him.

  “Riding. We are on our way to see my mother,” he answered.

  “Don’t be smoking around him, Osari,” I said.

  “Motherfucker, you really on some holier than thou bullshit, aren’t you? Why the fuck would I smoke around him? You’re starting to piss me off, shorty. What, I’m not capable of being around my son? Is that what you’re thinking?” he shouted into the phone.

  “NO,” I said to him, then I heard his line beeping.

  “Are you still fucking Kyree?” I asked him.

  “Can we talk about this another time?” he asked me. Tears ran down my face.

  “You are aren’t you?” I asked him, then he got quiet.

  “ANSWER ME. ARE YOU STILL FUCKING HER?” I yelled.

  “Why are you doing this, Tassana?” He asked, with a hint of sadness in his voice. I hung up the phone then headed upstairs to my bedroom. I ran my bath and eased down in the tub. My phone rang and I answered it without looking at the Caller ID. “HELLO,” I spat into the phone.

  “Tassana?” Tokyo asked me.

  “Oh, hey, Tokyo, what’s going on?” I asked, sitting up in the tub.

  “I was wondering if, Osari can bring th
e baby over for the day tomorrow. I heard he had him for the weekend and I want to see him, but that’s only if it’s okay with you,” she said.

  “Anytime. You don’t have to ask. I know he is in good hands,” I replied. The line got quiet. I know she doesn’t have much else to say to me.

  “I will talk to you later,” I said, ready to hang up.

  “Tassana, wait… I don’t hate you,” my sister said to me. Tears fell down my face. Tokyo always had a good heart despite her hood ways.

  I envied some things about Tokyo. I wished I was carefree and lived how I wanted to instead of living how my father wanted. I wish I was free from it all, instead of being in a shell all my life.

  I wiped my eyes then she continued. “If it wasn’t for what you have done I wouldn’t be so happy right now. It brought Kauzie and me closer together in a sense. I don’t know where we will go from here, but I don’t hate you, Tassana,” she said.

  “You are the good twin.” I chuckled.

  “Everyone has some of everything in them. You were just being a bitch.” She laughed.