Chapter Fourteen
Mike Mike
My phone had been ringing off the hook, but my head felt much too heavy to lift off of the pillow. The pungent smell of vomit had started to reek, making my eyes burn and water. I’d watched the sun rise and set in this same spot, having no choice but to piss and shit on myself. Calling out to Sable was useless since it was apparent she’d left me here to rot. Feeling like this was a sick skit of Diary of a Mad Black Woman, I vowed to get her sneaky snake ass back in the worst way. You can call me what you want and judge me whichever way, truth is, I beat her down to her face, and she snuck me with some loopy pills. Whatever the fuck I swallowed had done my body in.
In agonizing pain, I mustered up enough strength to crawl out of bed through the stinking, fly-infested vomit to my phone. I had no choice. Sick to my stomach, fighting the gagging sensation and urge to regurgitate again, I wasn’t accustomed to being the weak nigga on set. I caused dudes this type of discomfort—never being dealt the hand to live it. Pebbles of sweat covered my face, and my body was starting to overheat. This dirty-minded bitch had gotten me good.
Finally, pulling the phone from my pants pocket, I focused my eyes, realizing it was just my notifications going off. Secretly following all the tricks I fucked with on social media as an alias, I kept a tab on the life they lived on the low. You could never let a female know your every move or that you were concerned about theirs. Real talk, I was just watching the company I kept. Seeing it was an update from Roxy, I didn’t even feel like reading what sneak dis innuendo status she’d put up about me this time. Hitting Sable’s icon, I tried calling her over and over, wishing she’d answer at least once. Baby girl was playing hardball, and my patience had worn thin.
Suddenly, my text message notification popped up on my screen as an image from Roxy. Hesitating to press the open button, a picture of her, Jazz, and Sable popped up. What the fuck? They were laced in rainbow attire with drinks in hand. As I studied Sable’s face, she didn’t seem the least bit worried or concerned about me. The smile plastered across her face while I lay here in my piss made me want to slice her fucking head off. Any love and chance of an apology I thought I had for this slick bitch faded the longer I studied the picture.
Damn, if Roxy sent me this—then what the fuck did she put on social media? Was the world seeing my girl hugged up, representing that gay pride bullshit? Or worse yet, had Roxy snitched on me anyway, and this was the real reason Sable had flipped out? And they both together laughing about me being fucked up?
Hurriedly sliding down my notifications to Roxy’s post, my eyes bugged wide open. Her album was flooded with pictures of her, Jazz, and the slut bucket I called my precious Sable. They were living it up with a bunch of he-shes, fems, and studs. Each one of them was dressed looking good, even the gay one, Jazz, who I despised for hating on the whole existence of dick.
Miami? What in the entire fuck is this bitch doing way down there? How long have I been out of my shit? Naw, I gotta be tripping.
All men and women have a love for money, the root of all evil, to the inner depths of their soul. Mike Mike felt he’d been crossed, betrayed, and deceived by Sable on the worst level. He knew she couldn’t have gotten all the way down there on the small budget he rationed to her weekly. Mustering up enough strength to crawl into the closet, he didn’t need to devise a plan to get enough power to reach on the shelf. The safe he and Sable shared with part of his savings had been emptied and left upside down in the middle of the floor.
“That conniving, two-legged, dick-sucking snake. I’ma kill that rotten ass,” he shouted, banging his fist on the floor. Mike Mike couldn’t believe she’d gotten down on him and had flown the coop for Miami. But as far as he was concerned, she couldn’t run and hide from him, and he was about to make sure she understood the definitions of limitations and revenge. Besides, after all I’ve done for Sable since we were kids, that tramp and her miserable life belong to me.
“Look, girl, what you need to do is stop messing around with all of these lames. They don’t care about you like I do.”
“Yeah, but—” Sable tried interrupting but was swiftly shut down.
“Yeah, but nothing. You already know ain’t none of these assholes getting money like me,” Mike Mike boasted with pride. “You see me out in these streets making moves. I done came a long way from me and you begging motherfuckers for spare change. That bullshit ain’t my life no more, and shouldn’t be yours.”
“Me and you go way back. And you know how I feel.”
“Girl, fuck however you feeling, and let’s link up and get this bread. You smart as a motherfucker. And me and you together can make some real noise on they ass here in Detroit. So what up, doe? What you wanna do?”
“But, Mike Mike, I don’t love you like that,” she whined, wanting to keep shit as real as possible. “I want us always to be cool.”
The thug took a small rubber banded knot out of his front pocket. He grinned, tossing it to Sable. “Who gives a fuck if you love me? As long as you love that right there, then we gonna be on top of the world. Now, I gotta be out in a minute or two. And I swear to you this gonna be the last time I’ma be checking for you like this.”
“Huh, what?” Sable was thrown off, never hearing Mike Mike claim he was going to be done chasing behind her. He’d done so for years, being her protector. Now, she’d be cut off from being safely tucked underneath his protective wing.
Glancing at his ringing cell, Mike Mike grinned, knowing time was money. “All right, girl, you ready to be my girl all the way and make hood history? You gonna be on Queen Status to these random birds out here. You gonna want for nothing. Just tell me you gonna be mine forever and five days after that . . . and the world is yours.”
Sable sat back on the top stairs of her house. As she looked back at the screen door barely on the hinges and the cardboard duct taped up to one of the broken front windows, all she could do was shake her head. She knew her friend was right in what he was saying. Her current situation was dismal. Unemployed, no leads on at least a part-time job and a mother that nursed Wild Irish Rose as if it were a baby’s bottle, the young girl was on the verge of tears. Fighting them back, not one part of her being had any physical desire to link with Mike Mike, but what choice did she have? Although she was cute and had a decent shape, that meant much of nothing. A pretty girl came a dime a dozen. Not wanting to continue to struggle, Sable chose wisely. She gave in to the man that was blessing her with cash from time to time. Now, she could have access to Mike Mike’s money on the regular. Licking her lips, she spoke while standing up. “So, okay, boy, I’m in. I’ma rock out with you.”
“Forever and fucking five days after that shit?” Mike Mike asked with a huge smile plastered across his face. “’Cause when you mines, you mines for life.”
“Forever and five fucking days,” Sable reaffirmed before going into her house to pack her bags and gather whatever other belongings she was going to take into her new existence.
Suffering both physically and financially, Mike Mike had bloody murder on his mind. The woman he’d cherished so much had played him for a total fool. He knew he’d been outta pocket from time to time with them ass kickings and getting high. But so fucking what? When Sable signed on to be on his team, she understood it was until death do they part. Now she was trying to violate the rules. And for that, she would have to pay. Having to throw up once more, Mike Mike collapsed, forced to lie in his own vomit while plotting revenge.