Chapter Eleven
Diamond
“What the fuck is really going on around this bitch?” I asked my man and the little bitch he was all hugged up on.
“Diamond, this is my stylist, Lyric. I had her bring some pieces over for you,” Ken replied nervously.
“Nigga, I’m grown as hell. I can pick out my own shit.” Prepared for war, I set my purse down on the table. “Where I come from, bitches get killed for shit like this!”
“Diamond, I don’t want your man.” Homegirl sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I’m married to Damien Roberts.” The skank said it like he was someone special.
“The crackhead?” I replied without remorse.
“Diamond!” Ken snapped. The bulging vein in his forehead indicated I had gone too far.
“Fuck you, bitch,” shorty popped back at me before turning to my man. “Ken, I don’t have to take this shit. Here’s your money. I’m out.”
“Lyric, don’t go.” Ken grabbed her arm. I didn’t like the gesture, but I knew enough to keep my mouth closed. “Diamond, what the hell is wrong with you? This lady is a good friend of mine who came to do me a favor, and this is how you act.”
“Baby, I’m sorry.” I didn’t like being in the doghouse with my man, so I tried to change my tune.
“Don’t apologize to me. Apologize to Lyric,” he scolded me like a child.
“I’m sorry, Lyric. I don’t mean any harm. I’m just territorial about mine,” I said grudgingly. “Think about it—I walk in and see a woman all hugged up with my man, and my mind went off the deep end.” Casually, I walked over and wrapped my arms around my boo, creating distance between the two of them.
“I understand. It’s all good.” Lyric nodded.
I was sure she knew exactly where I was coming from.
“I can assure you there is nothing going on this way. Ken just retained me to style you for the year, so I hugged him to thank him for the business, that’s all.” Lyric smiled.
“Baby, you did?” I turned to Ken.
“I got to have my wifey looking her best at all times,” Ken replied.
“Well, all right then.” I turned back to Lyric. “Let me see what you picked out for his wifey.” I walked over to the pieces laid out on the sofa.
“Well, I was only able to pull a few pieces because Ken called me last minute. He didn’t give me much to work with other than your size. I hope you like it. If not, let’s go back to the drawing board.”
“Girl, this shit is deadly!” I squealed after looking over the ensembles Lyric had chosen without knowing me from a can of paint. “These Louboutins haven’t even hit the runway yet.”
“I have some good connections,” Lyric said, then walked over to the clothes and started holding them up to my body. It felt good to be made a fuss over. I loved being the girlfriend of a wealthy nigga.
“Lyric is good people, Diamond. I want y’all to hang out from time to time. She could really show you the ins and outs of being a celebrity wife.”
“Wife?” I was smiling so damn hard that all my teeth, cavities, and tonsils were showing.
“I would be happy to show her the ropes.” Lyric nodded. “I think Diamond would make a great NBA wife.”
“I love the sound of that,” I squealed. “Uh, baby, don’t you have a game to be getting to?” I looked up at Ken, who backed away with his hands up.
“I get the picture. I’ll leave you guys to it.”
“See you later,” Lyric and I said in unison.
“Can you hook me up for the game tonight? I need to be fly.”
“Absolutely. This is what I do,” Lyric said before going to work on my outfit for the night.
When it was all said and done, homegirl had laced me with a black V-neck top with ruffles at the bottom and a denim pencil skirt and accessories. I felt sexy yet sophisticated.
“You’ll fit right in with those basketball wives tonight.” Lyric snapped her finger.
“Thank you, Lyric, and again, I’m sorry for coming at you like that.” I was remorseful because I had totally misjudged her. She was a really cool person.
“No thank you needed, boo. Call me anytime you need something, and I got you.” She began packing up her belongings.
“Ken is planning to have a get-together with his family sometime soon. Do you think we could meet up and go shopping before that so I can impress his mother?”
“Of course, Diamond.” Lyric smiled.
“I really like him, and I know what his mother thinks about me will determine if I get the green light.” As I spoke, I surprised myself with how open I was being with this stranger. However, Lyric was really down-to-earth, and we had a connection.
“Diamond, if I may drop some jewels on you, it would be to always remain yourself. I understand that you want to impress his mother, but don’t change so much that you lose yourself in the process.” With a smile, Lyric swung two garment bags across her shoulder and headed for the door.
I wanted to tell her there was so much dirt on my résumé that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to lose my old self completely. I would’ve changed my whole identity if I could just escape my ratchet past. Had I known my path would lead me to this castle, living with my prince, I would’ve never kissed all those frogs in the first place.
Two hours later, I had shit, showered, and shaved. Right as I slid the towel dress over my head, the buzzer buzzed. Knowing it was my girl, Nisha, who was accompanying me to the game tonight, I buzzed her in without question. Seconds later, I heard the knock on the door and ran downstairs to unlock it. Because of the security gate and surveillance camera surrounding the condo, there was no peephole in the door. Therefore, I swung it wide open without a second thought. Standing there was Satan himself dressed in a red Dickie outfit and a St. Louis snapback with a toothpick dangling between his lips.
“Duck,” I gasped, nearly jumping from my skin.
“A nigga had to come a long fucking way to find your ass.” He smirked before stepping into the condo like he owned it.
“Why? How?” The words in my mind wouldn’t form a proper sentence as I took in the ungodly sight before me.
Donald “Duck” Marshall was a skeleton I wished had stayed his ass in the fucking closet. Two years ago, he was my man and a big-time dope boy in Missouri. Duck was getting money faster than I could spend it, which was why I stayed with his ugly ass and endured all the shit he subjected me to. After being hit with both distribution and possession charges, Duck was sentenced to twelve years. The time apart provided a window of opportunity for me to do what I did best, which was to rob his ass blind. I stole everything he owned—money, jewelry, clothing, furniture, and cars. Then I sold everything on the black market. Temporarily, my pockets were swollen, but so was the lump in my throat the minute I got word that his ass had been set free sixty days later due to a “technicality.” Using the last of my earnings from his shit, I hopped on the first plane to Los Angeles and never looked back. I thought being halfway across the country was far enough. However, by the looks of things, I should’ve gone a lot farther.
“What are you doing here?” I tried to calm my nerves.
“Diamond, you’re too young to have Alzheimer’s.” He chuckled while checking out the condo. I watched as his eyes surveyed the expensive paintings on the wall, and my stomach turned. “You know exactly why I’m here.”
“Look, Duck, I’m sorry about what happened back then. I was young and stupid.” I followed him.
“Sorry? Oh, you will be sorry if I don’t get my bread.” He stopped abruptly, causing me to run into his back. Prison had done wonders for his body. The shit felt like a brick wall.
“I don’t have any money,” I pleaded.
“You must think I’m stupid.” Duck turned to face me. “Bitch, I know whose house this is! You’re fuckin’ a millionaire, so getting my bread shouldn’t be that hard.” Duck waltzed over to the sofa and flopped down, putting his dirty shoes on the white furniture.
“Duck, me and him aren’t like that. I mean, I can get a little dough, but not that much.” I tried to calm my shaky hand.
“Diamond, I don’t give a fuck if you have to rob this nigga like you did me or sell that stank-ass pussy.” His stone-cold grimace had me shook. “I’ll give you two weeks to put two million in my hand before you come up missing.”
“Two million?” I almost fell over.
“Two million dollars in two weeks, or I will put two bullets right between your goddamn eyes.” Duck made his fingers imitate a gun, then pulled the trigger.