Page 22 of Rich and Rotten

“He works for the security firm,” I said once I caught my breath. “So luckily, I don’t have to deal with him. Jonah will more than likely handle everything security-related.”

“Jonah wants to handle everything, hmm?”

I chuckled. “Well, your sister has set clear boundaries and doesn’t want anything to do with him.”

“Yalina has always been stupid when it comes to what’s good for her. What does she think is gonna happen when Sav comes home? They’re gonna braid each other’s pussy hair and live happily ever after?”

I choked on my wine, bending over the counter as I coughed.

“Bloom! Why would you say that?”

Bloom tucked her feet under her and shrugged. “Sav isn’t in love with Yalina. She likes the control and bragging rights. Do you know how many niggas want Yalina? Sav knows that. That’s why she keeps her claws in her.”

It was rare for me to agree with Bloom, but she wasn’t wrong. Sav was in love with the control and status she got from being with Yaya. Yaya was loyal, and if she gave you her word, you could take it to the bank. That’s just who she was––and Sav knew it. But there were many nights when she cried to me about being tired and not being in love with Sav. Still, she stayed.

Bloom’s phone rang, and she glanced at it before hopping down from the stool. “We’re good here?”

I saw my own phone ringing and recognized the family’s lawyer’s number. I ignored the call. I had enough going on and didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with anything else at the moment.

“Yeah,” I replied, continuing to slowly sip my wine as my mind drifted to the ghost from my past, someone I never expected to see again.

Chapter Eight

Nazir Kane

I wrapped my lips around the tightly rolled spliff and took a long pull before blowing the smoke out the window and leaning my head back on the headrest in my Rolls-Royce, thinking about when Tatiana made her presence known. Her hair was all undone, sleep still in her eyes––and the pain. Before she could hide it, I saw the pain in her eyes as she stared into mine. I put that pain there, and it’s something I would never forgive myself for.

Before she could fully step behind the bar counter, I took in her curvaceous shape. Tatiana had always been on the thicker side, and it only got better with the older she became. Her button nose was slightly red, and her freckles were visible because she wasn’t wearing any makeup. Then there were her eyes,––her beautiful brown mahogany eyes. Tatiana’s eyes were like windows to her soul. I could always tell her mood from the way she looked at me. When she was happy, it almost seemed like her eyes were closed because her smile was that wide. When she was sad, they looked dark and gloomy. The redness showed whenever she was emotional.

I spent a lot of time studying the woman I wanted to marry back then. Tatiana was a few years younger than me and had her whole life ahead of her. I knew how much she wanted to get married and have children. I wanted those things with her, too––but when I was in a better place. She deserved to be taken care of, and I couldn’t do that for her––at least not then. So, that night, I decided not to hold her back any longer from having the things her heart desired. I kissed her lips, squeezed her tightly, then slipped out of bed and left in the middle of the night.

It still pains me that I hurt her the way I did. I stood by that door for twenty minutes, debating whether to leave or rejoin her in bed. As much as I wanted to run away with her and start a new life together, I knew it wouldn’t be fair to her. Taking her from a life she was accustomed to, only for her to struggle being with me, would have never sat right in my spirit.

Tatiana thought she was keeping her life separate from her father, but once she mentioned his name, I knew who that nigga Malcolm was. Everybody in the hood knew him as the one who made it out. Niggas without any sense idolized him because he rose to a status. To them, he was the goat and someone they all wanted to be. They never knew the heads he stomped on to reach that level, but some of their own families knew the pain Malcolm Rich caused to get there. Nine times out of ten, they had an uncle hanging out in front of the corner store who should have been where Malcolm was, but they were greased and burned by him. I never respected him or looked at him as being a role model because I saw him for who he was at a young age.

My pops was greased and sent to prison because of Malcolm Rich’s bitch ass. My mother was robbed of the life she once had, leaving her forced to work three jobs to make sure her two children had whatever they needed. While other kids were focused on sports or dreaming of going to college so they could be successful and make their parents proud, I was in the streets––learning the game from my pops during prison visits or through coded phone calls.

When the rumors started swirling about the dirt Malcolm had his hands in, my father was set up and murdered behind the wall. What was “cleaning up dead ends” for Malcolm was pure hell for my family. My old man never coming home was a harsh reality I had to accept early on in life, but seeing the pain on my mother’s face replayed in my mind often.

When I first met Tatiana, I had no idea her father was Malcolm Rich or that she was related to him. Her last name didn’t set off any alarms because it was a common name. But after finding out, it didn’t change how I felt about her. I think it was because she didn’t act like her father. She never walked around like the world owed her something. She was humble, quiet, reserved, and caring. Tatiana would give you whatever she had if she knew you needed the shit. That’s why I fell for her before I even knew who she was. And that’s why I stayed even after I found out where she came from and who her father was. Everything inside me told me to leave her alone. Her father was someone I wanted dead; how could I love his daughter the way I do?

Even as I sat in my car smoking, my heart was beating crazy in my chest because she was near. She was back in my orbit again, and my heart only reacted this way with her. She was my earth, moon, and stars.

The passenger door opened, and Natalie got in.

“You’ve been sitting out here for the past hour, Nazir. What’s wrong?” she asked, turning toward me.

Natalie was another one of those women who I couldn’t give the love she needed. Although I desperately wanted to, I didn’t want to waste her time. So, I was honest with her, and she ended up becoming my best friend––the one I could turn to when the world felt like it was crashing in on me. She was the woman who held my secrets and helped me work through my depression. Most of those years after leaving Tatiana were spent in darkness, trying to talk myself through things.

Seeing the concern in her eyes, I knew I needed to ease her worries and allow her to breathe.

“I’m not on the edge, Nat.”

She let out a deep sigh, leaned her head against the window, and reached over to touch my hand.

“You can’t show up in the middle of the night, sit out here for hours, and expect me not to worry.”

As the head of my family, the man who made things happen and made sure everyone was okay, who could I turn to? Who rubbed my back when I needed to release and express my emotions? I hated to go to my mother because she had to be strong for so many years, and I didn’t want that for her anymore. All the pain she endured when my father was sentenced and then getting the call from prison that he had been murdered was just too much for her to bear. With my sister being old enough to understand what had happened, she experienced those same emotions. They both deserved to live a life free of emotional pain, and I worked hard to make sure they did.