Shardai Jones, is a girl who had dreams of building her own empire and making a name for herself in the city of Atlanta. Her dreams were cut short because of one mistake that tainted her life and her relationship with her father. With no real work experience, and being disowned by her only living parent, she began her career as a bottle girl at the gentlemen’s club, Euphoria.  Shortly after meeting Quincy at club Euphoria, she traded in her explicit career for a better life that included love and happiness, or so she thought. Unbeknownst to Shardai, that in years to come, love never found its way, and neither did happiness. And the empire she always wanted; Quincy would be the exclusive proprietor.


Quincy Sullivan is undoubtedly the first-born son of the devil. He’s the proud owner of many women who sell their bodies and souls  to keep his pockets thick. The most handsome man to most, but underneath that sexy exterior is a man with no regard for anyone’s life but his own, not even for the woman he promised to love.


Donte Westbrook, one of the finest detectives in Houston, has been summoned to close a case that went cold in Atlanta. Accidentally he bumps into Shardai Jones, his old college fling, and that chemistry they once shared, is rekindled as if ten years hadn’t passed between them. Little that Donte knows, Shardai is not the woman she used to be, and the cold case that he’s investigating, surrounds her and the man she’s been living with for ten years.


As truths and lies unfold, will Shardai ever get the love and happiness she always wanted? Will Donte give her an ultimatum once he learns her truth? Will Quincy add another murder to his criminal resume?






2009 Memories…


  I’d been living with Quincy for a little over a year, and those feelings I wasn’t supposed to have for him, were stronger than they should have been. The night we met is a night I would never forget. My life was a complete mess at the time; shambles to be exact. And to be honest, the last thing I wanted, was to be in a relationship or add another complication to my already fucked up life. I’d been working towards mending my broken relationship with my dad, and I was struggling with the fact that he wanted nothing to do with me. We’d been estranged since my expulsion from Georgia State University, and I’d been working for months just to get him to have a conversation with me. I should have long accepted that whatever type of relationship we had was over, but I was his only daughter, so maybe he would have a change of heart.


As much as I wanted to believe that to be true, he would never love me or look at me the same again.


  What’s really sad about my life is that I had no one; no other family to turn to, so meeting Quincy was a blessing at the time. I just didn’t know it would ultimately be a curse too. We met at Club Euphoria where I worked as a bottle girl serving the thirsty niggas who resided in Atlanta. It’s funny the things the mind will never let you forget, and meeting Quincy are one of those things. One because prior to starting my shift I remember how dry my eyes had become from crying thinking about my deceased mother. She was murdered and her killer still to this day hadn’t been caught. Atlanta Police said it was a robbery gone wrong, but how is a robbery supposed to go right? So, that night being vulnerable and believing in a nigga that meant me no good, I jumped all in without a care in the world.  

  It wasn’t unusual that I would work in VIP, so when the regular bottle girl didn’t show for her shift, Zay gladly put me in her place. I didn’t have a problem working in that part of the club ‘cause there were perks to working in VIP. The men were assholes, but they spent heavy. However, sometimes I had to do too much just to reap the benefits. I mean how many different ways could I possibly make my ass clap while holding a bucket filled with champagne bottles and sparklers. But it kept my bag full and the lights on. Now downstairs on the lower level where the lames be, I didn’t have to do too much because those niggas lacked funds and they already knew if they couldn’t pay, they couldn’t play. Not that I do all of that hoe shit, but sometimes I did take a nigga home with me ‘cause I got lonely, and there was just so much my toy could do.

 Every now and then in the club we had undercover booty lovers who’d creep in VIP looking to get their dicks sucked or bust a load off in the ass crack of the few bottle boys who sometimes worked in VIP. I could always weed out the posers, and they weren’t really stingy with their money, especially if you knew that sucking penis was their secret fetish. My boss, Zay didn’t discriminate against anyone working in his club. And I was almost certain he’d had his butthole licked more than a few times. He employed a variety of us, especially if he believed he would make a profit, which he did. When I first step foot in this club all I wanted to do was work my shift, make a decent tip and go home without having to be subjected to all the sexual exploits, but this job has subjected me to all kinds of shit.

When I first noticed Quincy sitting in VIP where I was assigned to for the night, I didn’t bat an eye. He was standing up making it rain, popping bottles of expensive liquor and getting suffocated by silicone asses. It was obvious he had money ‘cause bitches stampeded in his face. They acted like thirsty ass dogs, with dollar signs sparked in their eyes. Practically anything with wood between their legs made these bitches salivate. There was no denying how fine Quincy was. He had the sexiest lips God could have ever created, and I bet he used that tongue savagely kissing the hell out of some pussy, but that didn’t impress me either. I know it’s rare, but I wasn’t like most of the trash who worked at Club Euphoria. Expensive clothes, over excessive money throwing, blinged out grills and a good candy licker didn’t sway my attraction to him or any other man. Nor the fact that I was pretty certain Quincy was a big-time dope boy. I was sure he was some type of hood-rich thug, or something probably worse. He wasn’t famous, so he had to have bank to be in VIP throwing money around so ostentatiously. With men like him that frequented the club, these birds I worked with used their eyenoculars and could easily catch a glimpse of niggas with long money. Their ultimate goal was to get dicked down, scam the nigga, or purposely get pregnant by one of them.

 I have done my fair share. Like I said before, I get lonely and I didn’t really have a man in my life other than Zay when we sometimes hooked up. But I wasn’t into the things my coworkers were into.  Honestly, I was just trying to find myself after losing so much.

At the time, I didn’t know Quincy would irrefutably steal my heart and make me fall so deep in love with him that I would do any and everything he asked of me. I mean what woman hasn’t been that susceptible to a man in her lifetime?

 I’ll wait…

I know I probably shouldn’t compare my current situation to my fall out with my dad, but after he disowned me, I didn’t think I could ever love another man until the night I met Quincy. I had fallen in love. And I had fallen in love fast. Quincy made all the wrongs in my life right, but that would be destroyed by his lies. The first lie he told me was that he was an entrepreneur. He convinced me that he owned a small business back in Memphis. I didn’t know him from anyone, so I had no reason not to believe him. I mean, looks could be deceiving. Right? Just ‘cause he had a diamond grill, tats on his arms, and was with a group of men who looked like they murdered for fun, didn’t mean he wasn’t who and what he claimed to be. In the back of my mind I was thinking that this nigga was a fraud, but it didn’t stop me from believing him. I knew he was trouble, but that gullible side of my personality fell prey to his falsity. All the while in my mind I was questioning everything he said to me. Eventually, I learned that he was a nothing ass nigga and I still  didn’t walk away.

  I shrugged off the fact that he solicited women for his own financial gain. I ate his words like he ate my pussy. I had become an addict to Quincy. He was loving my mind, body and soul and laying good dick on me, which made me stupid. He filled that empty void that filtered my soul.

And like I said before, his dick game was pure evil.



  Reflecting back on our relationship, I remembered the night I got pregnant by him for the third time. About a month before I missed my period, Quincy and I were living life lavishly. I moved in with him right after we met, and he never went back home to Memphis. This small business he claimed to have was just another one of his lies.  He was as I expected; a pharmaceutical entrepreneur selling whatever he could get his hands on, to feigns. And on top of being a drug peddler, he was also a modern-day pimp now living in the heart of Atlanta, controlling the few women who he sold to the highest bidder out the backseat of his car. I wasn’t keeping up with the why and the who, ‘cause it didn’t affect me. The first thing he promised when I found out he had women selling their bodies out the backseat of his car, was that he loved me too much to let another nigga touch me.


“Ma’, you know you special as fuck to me. I’d never put you out there like that. I can’t have niggas swimming in my good-good.”


  He kept his promise for a whole year. I was reaping the benefits from his corrupt shenanigans and I didn’t have to open my legs for anyone but him. Well... that was short lived ‘cause two months after all those promises he broke every last one.


I wish I could close my eyes and forget the night my life changed so drastically, but I will never forget the night Quincy made me his hoe.


I’d gotten pregnant that night he came home to celebrate that he was now the new owner of Club Euphoria where we met when I was a bottle girl. We’d drank a bottle and a half of Hennessy he brought home and inhaled so much coke that night, our sex drives were through the roof.


  Months after settling into my new life with Quincy it was evident to me that he had a drug problem. That didn’t make me love him any less. I guess I picked up on all of his dirty habits; fucking women with him, blowing coke up my nose and anything else if he would have asked, but I had my limits. Unlike him, I knew not to become a feign. I couldn’t if I wanted to, since my pregnancy had been confirmed.


  Drugs and alcohol were the least of my long-term problems. My addiction was a 6-foot 4-inch, tattoo having, caramel complexion, cocaine sniffing thug. And I had to look him in his deep, dark-brown eyes and tell him that I was pregnant.




 Maybe this time he wouldn’t force me to abort it. They say the third times the charm, or maybe that was my own wishful thinking. Either way, I was telling him.






  My troubling thoughts vanished about my pregnancy hearing the computerized female voice that spoke over the intercom when the house alarm was disengaged. Seconds later, my gullibility kicked in when  I smiled into the eyes of devil. I ask myself all the time why I loved everything about him. It’s crazy ‘cause  I wanted nothing to do with him when I met him, but now being his wife and the mother of his child is all that’s important to me. Walking through the door, Quincy had this mean mug look on his face that was always present. Despite the scowl on his face, he was sexy as hell to me. His cornrows were neatly braided to perfection, his chiseled chin defined his handsome face, and his thick negro lips made my clit thump like a beating heart. I had a good feeling that tonight was going to be good, and I became more at ease with telling him he was about to be a daddy again. I opened my lacey robe as he approached only to realize he wasn’t alone.  The man walking behind him got an eyeful of my body and I quickly closed my robe as Quincy approached me.



“Goddess, you cookin’ up in this muthafucka?” he asked damn near choking from the blunt smoke he inhaled.


 “Yes. I made pasta. And I didn’t know you had business tonight.” I said, clutching my robe taking a glimpse of his unwanted guest. He stood about six feet tall, his skin was dark as tar and he had this black hoodie on that made him look like he was ready to commit a crime. His eyes kept dancing around the room, but always landed on my body, especially my breasts. I knew by the way he licked his crusty black lips he was hoping I slipped up and open my robe again.


“Goddess,” he croaked, when I tried to pass him. “This my nigga, Dizzy. You probably seen him at Club Euphoria a time or two performing. I’m thinking about managing his rap career.” He motioned his head with a nod. I didn’t take what he said at face value though. The only thing Quincy was into managing were the women who worked for him. I knew I’d only been with him for a short time but managing rappers just wasn’t in Quincy’s pedigree. If you didn’t have fire between your legs and could give good head, Quincy wasn’t messing with you.


“Oh.” My reply lacked enthusiasm. “Nice to meet you Dizzy.” It was hard to believe I didn’t spit the laugh out I was holding in my mouth. Dizzy had to be one of the ugliest men on the planet. He was a mix of Flavor Flav and a hairy butt crack. If that’s even imaginable. But he was ugly. “Well…do your business, Quincy. We can eat dinner once you’re finished.” I caught his ugly ass client staring at me again. “I’ll be in bed.” I told him, attempting to walk away.


“Nah, I need you to stay ma’.” he ordered, yanking my arm when I tried to leave.


I cocked my head slightly to look at him when he grabbed me. “Stay for what?” I whined like a bratty ass teenager. “I don’t know anything about rap music.” I protested.


“Look. It ain’t about what the fuck you know. Real talk, ma I need you to do something for me, baby.”


“Ok. Um. You want him to eat with us or something?” I asked, with my face screwed up. “Quincy, I mean no disrespect, but this dinner is sort of special, and I only made enough for two. Like I said, I didn’t know you had business here tonight and not at the club like you usually do. Besides, I really have something important to discuss with you.”


“Ma’.” He took a short breath and took a step forward as he clasped his hands together. “Whatever you gotta say, just say the shit.” He scrubbed his hand over his face then he let out a deep breath as if I irritated his entire soul. “I need you to do something.” he reiterated again, swiping his hand over his perfect braided cornrows I did for him two days ago.


“Ok.” I nodded. “What?” My shoulders slouched and I had this aggravated frown on my face. I was puzzled to say the least, and I couldn’t imagine why I needed to stay while he talked to his ogling friend.


“Ma’, you been knowing the game I run for a minute. You might turn the other cheek, but you know how I get down.” His eyes narrowed on mine while Dizzy stared at us, listening as if he was a part of our conversation.


“Maybe.” My eyes darted toward the stranger hawking at my body. “We should talk in another room, Quincy,” I suggested. I was growing uncomfortable as this charcoal-colored muthafucka stared at my half-naked body. I clutched my robe tighter as my eyes roamed to his watching me as if he wanted to eat me like human cake.


“Goddess.” He stared at me, shaking his head like I was a disobedient child. “Look, ma. I need you to do me a solid tonight. Dizzy---” Quincy paused then his feet trampled back over to Dizzy. They stood there staring at one another intensely then Quincy patted his shoulder. “Brah, what it lookin’ like?” Quincy asked, and Dizzy pushed his right hand deep into his pant pocket and pulled out what looked like money rolled up and secured with a rubber band.


“A thou, brah.” He grunted unsure if the money he had was enough for whatever the hell he and Quincy were talking about.


“A thou.” He took his bottom lip hostage then nodded his head as if he was in deep thought. “Damn.” He muttered rubbing his chin. The wrinkles creasing in Quincy’s forehead was a sign that what Dizzy offered was an insult. His body language even changed, but I could tell he wasn’t going to turn down the money. “Look, since I’m cool with you nigga, I’mma let you owe me. You can pay me the rest once your career blows up. But know when you ask for high-quality shit, it’s gonna cost. Feel me?” Quincy griped with a nod, and Dizzy bobbed his head like a flunky, putting the money in Quincy’s hand. He impassively looked down at the money in his hand and trudged back over to me, staring me dead in the eyes. I watched his feet peddle across the floor as he pushed the wad of money down in his pants pocket. He stood in front of me soundless, then he put both of his hands on my shoulders. The silence continued to mask the room as he searched my eyes as if they were the gateway to my soul. Maybe he was about to throw me out on my ass. And all I knew was that I couldn’t go back to the life I used to have before we met. Zay wouldn’t take me back, even if I came crawling on my hands and knees. I not only left him, I left with the man who made him look like a weak bitch in his own night club, and then some kind of way bullied him into selling his club to him. No one ever looked at Zay the same after Quincy bitch slapped him in front of everyone that night.


 “Goddess!” My thoughts vanished at the sound of Quincy’s deep baritone.
“I need you to show my new client some hospitality tonight.” I read his dark-tinted lips from years of smoking blunts as if I was deaf and dumb.


Hospitality? What the hell? I thought, silently repeating his words in my head.


“I already told you I only cooked enough for us, but if it’s that important, I can make it enough for the three of us,” I said, just as naïve as I looked.


 He erupted in laughter then curved his hand down my cheek. “You always had this gullibility about you. That shit makes my dick brick up, but ma’, you gotta stop. Fa’ real, ma’, stop!” he muttered, taking me back to my childhood. It made me think of those days when my father used to chastise me. I hated it then and I hated it now. “This nigga didn’t come here to eat no food.” he barked distracting my thoughts. “Matter of fact forget that muthafuckin’ food. I need you to do this nigga a solid.” He had this gleam in his eyes, sinister, almost as if I knew what the hell he was talkin’ about. Still, I didn’t say a word because honestly, I didn’t know what Quincy wanted me to do.


“You believe her man?” He laughed licking his lips then turned his back to me and faced Dizzy. “Gullible than a muthafucka.” He chuckled making me the butt of his not-so-funny joke. Then he stood there laughing like a pompous ass, as if I was just some random, and not the bitch who does squats while sucking him off. As they both stood there dapping it up and cackling like two chattering females, I was getting angrier by the second.


It took him a few moments, but finally he focused his attention back on me. He didn’t utter a sound while he stared at me. He stood there with this condescending smile curving his thick lips, then he said something that almost made me faint. “He came here for some pussy!” He shouted those words so casually, as if he was asking me to pour him a glass of Hennessy. Then he went on to say, not batting an eye, not even with a smidge of compassion, “And I need you to handle that shit ma’.” Again, he was just saying the most ridiculous thing and I knew I had to be hearing things. Maybe he was drunk and had confused me with one of his other bitches.


“W—what?” I paused. It felt like I was having an outer body experience.  I started to sweat on my forehead and all of a sudden, the room started spinning and everything around me had gotten black. I felt as if my legs were about to fall from up under me, but caught my balance when Quincy startled me yelling my name.



“Shardai!!!” he roared my name so loud it felt like the room shook.


He never called me by my government, not even on the night we met. The only time he called me by my birth name was when he was heated. It wasn’t often that I pissed him off, but over the year we’ve been together, apparently that had changed. I stood there  a nervous wreck not knowing A from B, or what the hell would happen next.


I just kept mentally asking myself, why in the hell would he want me to do something like this?


 After biting his lip so hard I thought he would draw blood, and then mean mugging me, he turned his attention back to his rapper friend. “My nigga, take a walk.” He gestured, motioning his left hand towards the doorway. “Let me handle this little situation.” Dizzy didn’t make a sound as he nodded his head. He walked away, and I wouldn’t have known he was gone if it hadn’t been from the sound of the door closing.


“I know you are not asking me to fuck some other man.” I rushed towards him not planning on backing down. However, when I looked in his eyes the anger in my face softened. I stood on my tip toes holding on to his shoulders, giving him a sincere smile hoping that he would say he was joking. “Quincy, I love you, and more importantly---” I looked up to the ceiling and as my eyes lowered, my stomach bubbled feeling the stiffness of his towering 6-foot 4-inch frame standing cold. Did it even matter how I felt? I wondered, as I tried reading his thoughts. Just the notion of how he really felt made me nervous, ‘cause I already knew the answer. So, I became more hesitant about my pregnancy news, but at this point and with what he’s asking me to do, it’s now or never.  


 “Quincy, I’m pregnant!” I blew out a breath and was relieved that I said it. I really said it and I couldn’t stop now. “Baby, we’re pregnant,” I expressed in a more calming voice, assuming he would respond, but his lips were closed tight. He didn’t make a sound. He didn’t budge. If it wasn’t for negative energy radiating from his body, I wouldn’t think he was breathing.  “I…I…” I swallowed deeply losing my train of thought.  “Baby, I know, in the past you thought we weren’t ready for this. And I agree that maybe  then we weren’t ready to have a child. Quincy, we’re doing so good. We have money, look at how we’re living. I never thought I’d ever be this happy. I want to keep the baby this time.” I whined, nervously wringing my hands together after fifteen seconds of explaining myself to him. I loved this man with all I had in me, and I never thought I could.  I wasn’t looking for love when we met, but he came into my life at a time when everything had gone wrong. And now I love him, and I want everything he promised me.


“What you mean is I have money.” He pointed his finger in my face touching the bridge of my nose. “Tell me what the fuck you do to put money in this household. You sure ain’t selling no pussy. Man you unbelievable. Yaknow that.” He scrubbed his hand over his face, breathing uneven breaths. I knew him finding out I was pregnant would be a shock, but he’d never said anything so fucking disrespectful to me in the one year we’d been together.


What did he think would happened if he fucked me raw?



 I didn’t know if I was more pissed off by his response or the fact that he asked me to screw that goofy nigga he brought home with him. I couldn’t believe he said that shit and back peddled away from me as if I wasn’t standing here. Did Quincy think that I needed him  ‘cause I never asked for this life, and I sure as hell didn’t want a relationship. I was doing my own thing when we met. Maybe I didn’t have the bag that I have now, but nonetheless I was happy.  I never wanted these types of problems.


I was so lost in my thoughts and feelings that I didn’t realize he was staring me in the eyes until spit splattered in my face when he yelled.





“You gullible muthafucka!!!” he barked nudging two of his fingers in the middle of my forehead. I felt like such a dummy thinking that this time our unborn child would matter. Instead, like a fool, I stood there with my mouth wide open at his next words. “Do you think that makes a difference to me?” he sarcastically asked, and when his eyes darted to my belly, I backed away from him. He’d never laid a hand on me, but right now, I didn’t know what he would do, especially knowing that he obviously didn’t feel the same about his child as I did. “Pregnant or not...” His words lingered then he looked upside my head like I was in the wrong. “That nigga paid, so it is what it is.”


“Q—Quincy” I stuttered barely able to form words. Tears welled in the pit of my eyes, but never fell. I wasn’t a punk, and I refuse to let him see me cry. I wanted this child. My first two abortions left scarring and I thought it would be impossible to become pregnant again. But here we were pregnant because he refuses to pull out or wear a condom. Gathering my thoughts, I inhaled the snot that leaked from my nostrils and wiped my nose with the back of my hand. Tears still threatened to fall from my eyes, but I wouldn’t allow them to escape.  I got angry-emotional ‘cause that was the only way I wouldn’t cry. “You promised me…” I huffed in and out balling my hands in a tight fist. “I should have known you were just a liar. Quincy I’m not one of those females you run. I thought I was the woman you loved. I didn’t leave my life behind with Zay to do more disgusting shit.” I said, not caring if he did try to whoop my ass.


“Hoe, please. You ain’t leave that fat ass nigga. I took yo’ ass from him ‘cause I felt sorry for that weak shit he had you doing at the club. And you wanna talk about promises… Bitch, I kept my word.  I’ve made all your dreams come true. You ain’t had to worry about shit. I take care of every muthafuckin’ thing. I dick you down when you want, and I love yo’ raggedy ass when you need love. I was the muthafucka whose shoulder you cried on when you couldn’t get over that bitch daddy of yours disowning your ass. Humph! You just like every other bitch I had in my life, even my own momma was a half-ass hoe. And I consider her at high regard, but she fucked me over too. Now here you go with the same bullshit. Bitch, I can have any hoe out here with a split between her legs, but I chose you!”


He pointed at me and that’s when a wave of guilt consumed me. It was stupid , but I had compassion for him ‘cause he felt like I was abandoning him. I knew exactly how that felt. I’d felt the same exact way when my dad disowned me. And with him bringing up his mother, I knew he was pissed off. She was a sore subject, and he didn’t talk about her that often. Really, he never spoke about her, but on a few occasions, we had pillow talk about his past and the way he had come up from that nothing ass little boy who lived in low-income housing.


I remember a few weeks after we started our relationship and after we had mind-blowing sex, he mentioned Gloria. I could see tears forming in his eyes the way he reminisced about her. He always expressed his thoughts after we made love, and he would say they had an abnormal mother and son relationship. And I basically felt the same about my dad after he had disowned me. So, I understood his feelings, and I never wanted him to believe I didn’t care, but my actions should prove just how down I was for him. I wanted to be better than his mother was to him ‘cause he had proven to be better than my own father was to me by loving me


I loved Quincy and I never wanted him to think otherwise, but I wasn’t his paid hoe. I was better than that. He promised that we’d get married, have babies, and travel the world. We still had time to do all of those things. We’d only been together a little over a year, but I was ready to live all of my days with him. My plan was to wait it out until he wanted everything I wanted ‘cause he kept telling me that he was going to wife me up and put his seeds in me. Now what was I supposed to believe. Maybe this was my karma since I cared so little  about some of his career choices. I was blinded by my own hood dreams, believing that he would make them come true like he promised.



“Quincy, you cannot be serious. Our baby growing inside of me.” I pleaded with my newfound maternal instinct placing my hand on my stomach. “This baby matters to me and it  should matter to you .” I pulled my hand away from my still flat stomach, replacing it with his. I gently stroked my fingertips across his knuckles as his hand laid on my belly. “I love this baby already,” I beamed. “I love it just as much as I love you. Eventually you’ll learn to love it too.” I nodded, with a stupid smile on my face while he stood there unmoved. I always knew that once he got something in his head there was no changing his mind. But I wanted to believe that he loved this baby. If I wanted to face the truth which I should, after the first two abortions he made me have, I knew his true feelings. He would never be father material, or for that matter, husband worthy. Quincy more than made it clear that he could give two shits about the baby growing inside of me.


“Fuck that baby! I ain’t ask for that lil’ nigga. Besides, you ain’t the first female who gutted out my seed. Grow the fuck up! A kid? Really, Shardai?” He shook his head with a screwed-up expression on his face. “I’m a hustler and I run bitches. I ain’t no muthafuckin’ daddy. I’ma king. I’m royalty bitch!” He patted his chest like a big ole stupid monkey. “Matter of fact… I’m God! So, fuck that lil’ nigga and fuck you too if you won’t do this for me.” He walked off towards the door sounding like a pouty ass bitch who couldn’t get her way. I swear a man with female tendencies were the worst.


And that still wasn’t enough to make me walk away.


Watching him walk away I thought about what my life was like before and what it’s like now. Of course, before Quincy there was my life at Club Euphoria and the things, I did there. I was happy, but unhappy at the same time ‘cause of how my relationship was with my dad. I had nothing and then I had Quincy.




I huffed in and out rethinking what I was about to say. Every fiber in my being knew this would be the stupidest decision I would ever make in my life. “Quincy.” I  heard the pounding of my own heartbeat, as my words scattered like a puzzle in my head.


“What?” he said, unapproachably then turned around mugging me.


 I said above a whisper, “I’ll do it.” I waited hoping that he had changed his mind. I just wanted him to tell me he loved me and that this was his sick way of seeing how loyal I was to him.  But the smirk on his face told a different story as he jogged towards me



His perfect smile was simply a mask. He was a monster in disguise.


Soon as he got in my personal space, I watched as he reached his hands out to cup my face. Then he lowered his head to mine and pressed his dark-tinted lips on top of my lips. “I knew I could always count on you ma’.” He sucked his bottom lip then covered his mouth over mine twirling his tongue nastily with mine. The taste of the blunt he smoked filled my mouth, but I kissed him back lovingly anyway. Moments into the kiss that had become sloppy, he pulled away as our saliva lingered like gooey caramel from a Snickers bar.


“I’ma go get the nigga.” he said, gesturing his hand towards the opening area of the kitchen. “Ma’, you get yo’ self together and come back to the living room. The nigga already knows the rules, and you ain’t sucking his shit. Go freshen up. I want you to show this nigga everything he wish he could come home to. But you mine, Goddess.” he whispered, close to my lips. “Don’t ever forget who the fuck you belong to. This is just business baby, and that’s the way I want you to look at it. It’s a job and that nigga is a client. I knew from the moment I saw you that we were gone get this money together. Goddess, our future is unlimited if you just do this shit with me.” he said, telling me more bullshit while I stood there like a dumb bitch eating it all up…



Copyright 2017 by Major Key Publishing LLC

All rights reserved.

Major Key Publishing, LLC

P.O. Box 186

Grayson, GA 30017

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