part0008

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Tobias?! That bitch is pregnant with your baby?! Oh my God! Why didn’t you tell me before now?!” I collapsed to my knees in the middle of my spacious great room. Totally heartbroken, I covered my face with both hands and cried from my soul. “How could you do this to me?!”

“I’m sorry, Eesh. I was scared to tell you. I didn’t wanna lose you, girl.”

I didn’t want to hear that shit! I had forgiven his dumb ass against my better judgment when I caught him cheating on me with that video-vixen slut back in April. But now, my stupidity had circled back around and bit me in my ass. Apparently, their secret fling had resulted in a surprise pregnancy, and the sleazy trick was due to deliver their little love child any day now, according to Tobias’ sorry ass. This was going to be my worst Christmas ever!

I didn’t deserve this bullshit. I had been nothing but a good woman to Tobias throughout our entire relationship. Hell, I had been carrying his trifling ass for the past two years because his rap career was on life support while I stayed on top of the hip-hop, R&B, and pop music charts. Plus I was constantly cast in supporting roles in TV movies as well as occasional big screen gigs. Zyeshia stayed getting money. And with my cash flow, I had been floating Tobias financially and keeping him socially relevant for a minute, but this Negro had had the nerve to creep on me behind my back.

“Eesh, we can get through this, bae,” Tobias had the balls to say as he kneeled next to me and wrapped an arm round my shoulders. “That bitch don’t mean shit to me. I’ll take care of my lil’ shawty, but I ain’t got nothin’ for Jian. It’s all about you and me, girl.”

I shoved him away from me as hard as I could and pinned him in place with tear-filled eyes. “How the hell are you going to take care of her baby when I take care of your broke ass, huh? You ain’t got shit! I dress you, feed you, and keep a roof over your head. Hell, I even throw away money on studio time and producers’ hours although I know you can’t crank out another hit single if your life depended on it.”

Tobias nodded his head as his jaw clenched tightly with anger, but I didn’t give a damn. He was super sensitive about his comatose, one-hit rap career, which was basically non-existent at this point. But he had the audacity to roll around Atlanta in the luxury whip I had bought him, fronting as if he were balling out like the relevant hip-hop artists in the city. Man, how the hell did I get mixed up with this loser? I deserved so much better.

I stood abruptly. “I’m done with you, Tobias. Give me the key to my crib and the key to the Aston Martin. Then pack up only the shit you brought here with you when you moved in and get your lowdown, good-for-nothing, cheating ass the hell out of my house! You’ve got five minutes.”

“I’m counting! If you’re not gone in five minutes, I’m going to call your probation officer and the police!”

“How the hell am I supposed to pack all my clothes, shoes, and game consoles in five minutes, Eesh? You know I need more time than that. And how do you expect me to travel without my ride?”

“The clothes, shoes, and game boxes belong to me because I paid for all of it. The veterans at The Stripes House are going to have a Merry Christmas this year, buddy.” I attempted to laugh even as tears continued to fall from my eyes. “And you can request an Uber right before you give me back that expensive phone I bought you.” I folded my arms across my braless breasts and hit him with a neck roll. “Chop-Chop, Negro! Time is ticking. Grab some garbage bags and stuff them with the same shit you moved in here with and be a ghost. Don’t you call, text, email, DM, hit me up on Facebook, write, or even think about me ever again because we are done.”

“Eesh, baby, you don’t mean that shit. I love you, girl. Let’s work it out. Don’t let my one mistake tear us apart, bae.”

“You have three minutes and twenty-seven seconds, Tobias,” I announced after checking my watch.

I sat down on the leather sectional and massaged my temples while he stomped upstairs to pack the few things he had moved from his loft in Midtown to my mansion in Buckhead two years ago after he got evicted. My parents and my cousin had warned me about Tobias. Mom had said on day one that he was nothing but trouble, and my dad had sworn on everything sacred that I was just too damn good for him. Arrayvia, my most trusted cousin slash best friend slash personal assistant, simply didn’t like Tobias and she never had even before he and I hooked up. His reputation in the hip-hop world was less than favorable and he had a criminal record long before I’d met him. Plus he used to change women like he changed drawers. Damn! Why hadn’t I listened to my family?

I got up and walked over to my display case, still crying silently. It hurt like hell to have been fucked over and deceived by a man who I had committed my life to after my loved ones had warned me to beware. I wiped my nose with the long sleeve of my tangerine tee as my eyes floated slowly over my prized possessions…my treasures…the symbols of my success. One, two, three Grammys…I could recall vividly each of those individual moments I’d heard a presenter call my name as the winner and how wonderful it had felt. I closed my eyes, allowing those memories to flash through my mind like a slideshow.

Oh my God! They were three incredible nights that I will forever carry in my heart and I would always cherish my Grammys. I felt the same way about my two NAACP Image awards, one American Music award, and my Soul Train award. I reached up and carefully lifted the gold-plated, handmade gramophone trophy I’d won for best new R&B artist at the age of nineteen. It seemed like that unforgettable moment five years ago had only happened yesterday. The thrill was still fresh. I pressed my first Grammy award against my chest and closed my eyes over my tears, trying to remember my acceptance speech.

“Humph, maybe if your ass had been huggin’ and lovin’ on me regularly like you do them goddamn trophies and kept your ass at home more instead of doin’ all of them fuckin’ concerts and campin’ out in the studio weeks at a time, I wouldn’t have turned to another bitch to get my needs met.”

The fine hairs on the back of my neck bristled at the sound of Tobias’ raspy voice trying to throw shade at me. He had definitely gone for the jugular with those nasty words, placing blame on me for his disloyalty. A dirty motherfucker!

I replaced my Grammy on the display shelf and spun around slowly just in time to see him toss the keys and cell phone on the coffee table with a thud. I had been crying so much that my eyes felt itchy and swollen, but my vision wasn’t the least bit impaired. I took a few steps toward the coffee table and picked up the phone. Then, on pure instinct and rage, I threw it with all my might over the short distance and struck him dead in the face.

“Damn, Eesh!” He covered his nose and mouth with one hand and wiped away blood. “What the hell you do that for?!”

I charged his ass and kneed him in the balls hard, using all my strength.

“Ah shit!” He doubled over, grabbing his junk before he dropped to his knees and then fell flat on his face. “Arggghhh! Arggghhh! Shit!”

I quickly grabbed the two bulky garbage bags and dragged them to my front door. After I opened it, I threw the bags out on my immaculately manicured lawn. Then, leaving the door open, I ran back to the great room, snatched Tobias by his ankles, and started dragging his ass across the carpet. I cringed when I noticed droplets of blood from his face staining the plush, imported, ecru wool blend. But I kept it moving because Stanley Steamer was just a phone call away.

“Stop, Eesh! Stop! You’re hurting me! Stop, girl!”

I ignored Tobias’ punk-ass screaming. He wasn’t about to get an ounce of sympathy from me. When I reached the front door, I was tired as hell. Dragging a six-foot, two-hundred-pound Negro several feet was no joke. Shit, I was only five-foot-five and on a good day, I topped the scale at a few pennies over a buck and a quarter. I took a few deep breaths to get my second wind before I gave Tobias two swift kicks in the ass and a sharp one in his right side.

“Aaahhh! Damn you, Eesh! Damn you! Aaahhh!”

A few ankle snatches later, Tobias’ shady ass lay face down in my front yard, kicking, cursing, and screaming. I strutted back inside my house, slammed the door shut, and locked it. Then, after I set the alarm, I called Big Quad, my bodyguard, and told him to rush over just in case Tobias recovered from his injuries and tried to trip before the Uber arrived.

After I ended the call, I couldn’t resist the temptation. So, I ran to the formal living room at the front of the house and looked out the huge picture window. I cracked the hell up when I saw Tobias rolling around in my grass, holding his crotch, and crying like a little bitch. He looked like a damn fool.