Название | Confessions |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Sasha Campbell |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9780758261267 |
Big mistake.
“Trinette!”
I turned the water off because with him banging on the door and hollering like some damn fool, relaxing was totally out of the question. I climbed out and reached for a towel.
“Boo, why you lying to me? Huh? I want an answer!”
His whining was quickly wearing my nerves. I dried off and reached for my robe, hanging on the back of the bathroom door. “Lie to you about what?” I asked as I swung the door open. Would you believe the fool had the nerve to have tears in his eyes?
I rolled my eyes and moved over to my dresser drawer that was still sitting wide open. A colorful array of Victoria’s Secret garments had been thrown every which way. Organization has never been one of my strengths, but that was beside the point.
Cory flung the photo back into the drawer. “I can’t believe this shit! Everything I’ve done for you and this is how you treat me.”
“Hold up. Everything like what?” Because he had yet to spend any real money on me. I reached for the remote and turned the television off. I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss a single word of what he was about to say.
“I just made breakfast for you last weekend.”
I laughed as I closed the drawer and moved to take a seat on the end of my queen-size bed. “Since when is popping two Eggo waffles into the toaster considered cooking?”
His brow bunched as he spoke. “It’s the thought that counts. Besides, last week we went out to dinner and a movie.”
“Oooh! Big spender. You took me to Steak ’n Shake with a coupon, and the movie was a matinee.” Now, I don’t have a problem with cutting corners. Lord knows my broke ass does when I don’t have a choice. What pissed me off was we dropped by Walmart on the way so he could stuff my purse with candy and soda. He better recognize. Ms. Netta is used to being wined and dined by a man. I didn’t mind giving a brother a little coochie for monetary gain. Hell, usually at this point in the relationship, brothas are passing hundred dollar bills my way to support my insatiable shopping habit, but not this broke joke. The money stopped coming my way after the first week. I’m not gonna front. Cory bought me a pair of diamond earrings, took me on a shopping spree in Chicago the weekend before, and even gave me two thousand dollars when I lied and told him my car was about to be repossessed. But for the past several days, all he wanted to do is lie in my bed and watch television. Uh-uh, as far as I was concerned, we still had thousands of dollars to spend. Or at least that’s what I thought before I picked up his pants and tossed them at him, then noticed a crumpled piece of paper on the floor. He was still going on and on about finding Leon’s picture and demanding to know who the dude was when I reached down and picked the piece of paper up and stared at it.
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What the hell? It couldn’t be right. There was no way in hell Cory’s account was negative in less than three months. But Wachovia Bank was the name on the debit card he had been swiping all over town the past two weeks. Or at least until the previous Thursday when we’d gone to get gas and he’d acted like the strip on the back of the card was bad. It was then that I wondered why. His fake ass was broke. I couldn’t believe I let him play me like that.
Cory tried to speak, but I held up a hand, silencing him. “You know what, Cory? There’s a lotta things I will tolerate, but never someone going through my personal belongings. So listen to what I am about to say. It’s over between us. Now leave!”
He was pacing back and forth across the length of my small room. His chest was heaving and his hands were balled by his sides. He looked hurt. A muscle twitched at his dimpled cheek. His eyes were glassy. I wished I could feel sorry for him, but he’d used up all his chances. Besides, his behavior was starting to scare me.
I rose from the bed. “Cory, I’m not gonna ask you again.”
“I ain’t going nowhere till you tell me who that mothafucka is!”
He moved all up in my face like he was about to beat a sistah down. I met him eye to eye. I’m no punk, but I’m no fool either. My heart was beating rapidly against my ribs. I took a step back just to be on the safe side. “Whoever he is, he obviously has more money than you have, Mr. Lottery Winner.” I balled up the ATM receipt and tossed it at his head. He picked it up, uncrumpled it, and stared down at it. Busted! The embarrassed look on his face was priceless.
“You need to leave.”
He moved toward me. “I said I ain’t going nowhere.”
“Now, listen to what I’m about to say. Koolaid’s only a phone call away. So the choice is yours. Either get out or get put out,” I said, with a combination of anger and fear marking my every word. Not that I needed my brother’s help. With a quick left hook, I was almost certain I could get in a few good licks. However, since he knew my brother by reputation, the threat sounded much more effective.
Cory stared at me for a long moment like he was contemplating his next move, then he reached out and tried to hold me in his arms. “Why you doin’ me like this? I thought you were feelin’ me, boo.”
“That was before I discovered your ass was broke.” I jumped out of his reach, moved around my bed for the phone, and made a show of punching numbers. “I’m calling Koolaid.” I was really calling time and temperature, but he didn’t need to know that.
“A’ight, I’ll go, but this discussion ain’t over,” he replied, his eyes flashing with anger. “You still ain’t told me who that nigga is in the photo.”
I punched END on my cordless but continued to hold it in my hand just in case I needed to clock the fool upside his head. “We don’t have shit else to talk about, and the man in the photo is none of your business.”
He gave me a look of disbelief. “Oh, so it’s like that?”
“Yeah, it’s like that.”
“Fuck you, then, you gold-digging bitch!”
See, this is what I was talking about. Take a deep breath, Netta. Any other time, I would have kicked a brotha in his nuts for calling me a bitch, but since he was getting the hell out of my house, I allowed the comment to slide.
While I kept an eye on him, Cory quickly slipped into a sweatshirt lying at the end of the bed. As soon as his Jordans were back on his feet, he made a show of grabbing everything he’d left at my house over the last two weeks, which wasn’t hard to do, considering I kept most of it in a small box next to the door. Cory had gotten too comfortable. I’d been telling him to take his shit back home to his mama, because I wasn’t about to be washing some negro’s stinky-ass draws.
Cory grabbed the box, then took his time walking to the door as if I might change my mind. Halfway down the hall, he paused and looked me directly in the eyes. “Once I walk out that door, I ain’t ever steppin’ up in here again.”
“You promise,” I mumbled, then stepping around him, I went to the door and swung it open. “Have a nice night.”
Suddenly Cory wasn’t the tough guy anymore. Tears were running down his face, and thick white spit was in the corners of his mouth. “Why you doin’ me like this?” he whispered.
My stomach did a nosedive. Damn, I hate to see a man cry. I almost felt sorry for him. “Because I told you I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship. Obviously you forgot the rules since you decided to go rummaging through my stuff.”
“Yeah, a’ight.” He leaned forward and tried to kiss me. I quickly