Page 7 of The Love Bully
“Excuse me, are y’all out of Marsha’s Heart?” a young lady asked from the other side of the counter. She barely looked old enough to be in my shop. I knew she was though because you had to scan your government identification card for the door to even unlock.
Yeah, we had our security level high because these young niggas would risk it all for bullshit. There was video surveillance in every nook and cranny of our shops. All our employees had concealed carry permits and were trained. You had to take these kinds of precautions. It also allowed us to ban people and keep a record of everyone in and out.
“Nah, lil mama. We’re sold out. We should get more next week. Make sure you’re on our text alerts and email list. That shit goes fast when we get it in.” Derrick pointed to the QR code on the counter for her to scan.
She started to fill the form out on her phone. “Can I ask why you named this new one Marsha’s Heart?” she asked without looking up from her phone.
I smiled at the mere thought of my woman. Yeah, she may not have been mine officially in her mind, but she had always been mine. “I named it after my woman because any love from her heart makes you high as hell.”
The young lady put her hand over her heart, and her eyes softened. “Oh my God. That is the sweetest thing that I’ve ever heard.” She shook her head. “Wow! There are men naming products after their women, and my man won’t even let me have the fries from the bottom of his food bag.”
I side-eyed Derrick when he roared in laughter. I wanted to laugh, too, but I wouldn’t. Her misfortune was hurtful to her, and that was clear from her facial expression. “Lil mama, you need to let that nigga go. There’s no sense in having a fuck nigga just to say you have a nigga. Get some standards about yaself. Not only should he let you eat those cold ass fries, but he should also give you the hot ones in the container too.”
I gave this little girl advice based on French fries in the bottom of a bag. These young niggas made me sick. The girl confirmed that she signed up for all the lists before she left the store. “Derrick, let me find out that you’re not letting your woman eat fries out of your bag and I’m going to punch you in your chin, nigga.”
“Pop! Shut up, man! Why the fuck wouldn’t I let my woman eat food from me? Now these hoes are different, but my woman can have whatever she wants,” he assured me.
I nodded. I made sure that I taught my boys to have their fun, but when they found the woman that they truly wanted to be with to not take her for granted. They needed to be faithful, and if they couldn’t, then they needed to leave that woman alone in her peace. When Marsha left my ass for real, I learned my fuckin’ lesson.
For the first couple of years, her ass was not fucking with me at all. I thought that it didn’t matter if we were in an official relationship or not, she would always at the least fuck me. She gave me no act right at all those first two years. Kisa adding on her bullshit didn’t help much either.
Kisa’s ass was relentless with her bullshit for like the first eight years of Derrick’s life. She was bitter as fuck because no matter what she said or did, I wouldn’t be with her. Her ass did petty shit that made me have to take her to court just to see my son. She calmed down after Marsha caught her ass, whenDerrick was ten, and whupped her ass. After that, she learned to stay in her lane or risk a head-on collision.
Gia was the more laid-back one. She talked a little bit of shit, but she didn’t really want any smoke. She had a host of ailments that were more pressing than being worried about what the fuck I had going on. After a while, she was thankful for the help that Marsha provided and the bond that she created with Aaron. I dared to say that Marsha and Gia formed a friendship before Gia died when Aaron was twenty.
Derrick worked in the shop out of pure boredom. He had his own business ventures, but he was my son that had to keep his hands busy, or it would be a bad thing for the streets. My boys were different but the same. Now, my baby girl was one of a kind and all our hearts.
“Orion!” A female voice yelled my name.What the fuck!
Derrick and I pulled out our pieces. You could never be too damn careful. My face tightened at the sight of Lisa’s ho ass marching toward me like a majorette. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her ass. “What the fuck you on in my place of business?”
She slammed her hand down on the counter. “Fuck your place of business. Did you have our fucking daughter tested after she was born?”
Ah shit!Her question automatically told me that she and Marsha had it out. She must have really pushed my baby, because Marsha knew about the test before it was done. I had the results go to her email. That woman was my vault of secrets, dreams, fears, and promises. Nobody was fuckin’ with Marsha Turner.
“Lisa, if you know that I had Oriana tested, then I’m sure you are aware of the results. Yes, I had your daughter tested,” I admitted.
From the first day she told me that she was pregnant, I asked for a paternity test. It was always one thing or another. The bitch wouldn’t even let me go to any of the doctor appointments but stayed on my phone about something she needed. I wasn’t a fuck nigga, so whatever she said she needed, I got the item within reason. I knew she wanted the money, but I would never put money in a ho’s hands.
Her light face reddened. “Why the fuck would you do that, Orion? I told you that she was yours.”
Derrick mumbled whether she was serious under his breath. “Lisa, how many years has it been? Why the fuck is this coming up now? Why does it even matter?” I asked.
“It matters because your old ass bit—” There was no way that I would let her finish that damn sentence.
She jumped back when I slammed my hand down on the counter. “You got no more times to disrespect my woman. I don’t give a fuck what this conversation is about. If Marsha did or said anything to you, I know her well enough to know that she was provoked. Yeah, you said that your daughter was mine, but the DNA proved that to be a fuckin’ lie. Get the fuck on somewhere.”
She stepped back and took a breath. “You should have never had my daughter tested. Why would you do that and not tell me?”
“I shouldn’t have had to tell you a muthafuckin’ thing. You should have been a woman and not lied about her being mine. See, I knew she wasn’t mine because I haven’t been able to have kids for years before your bullshit claim. What would have been the point of telling a grieving mother that she was a lying whore.” The venom in my tone was heavy.
I hated a person that played victim when they were in the wrong. This woman lied and knew she lied about me being the father of her daughter. She then turned around and named thelittle girl after me like an asshole. She dragged my name in the streets about how much of a fuck ass I was for not paying for the funeral to not claiming her daughter. I let her have that because as long as Marsha knew the truth, I didn’t care. Plus, the streets knew without a shadow of a doubt that I took care of my kids. Even Kisa’s lame ass told Lisa that couldn’t have been my child.
Lisa’s sniffling caught my attention. “Marsha blasted me at the salon and put the paternity result on the screen in front of everyone. Do you know how embarrassing that was?”
“So, you’re mad that you went into my mama salon, stepped on an IED, and got blown up?” Derrick asked with a twisted face. “Stop playing with my mama.”
Lisa’s head snapped in Derrick’s direction. “Marsha is not your fuckin’ mama. Your mama’s name is Kisa.”
