The Wrong Side Of Love 2: A Hood Love Story Read online

  When she reached the room, Tariq was sitting on the side of the bed in nothing but some basketball shorts while on the phone. She was going to ignore him until she heard him tell whoever was on the other end that he was on his way. She wanted to know exactly where the hell he was going at eleven o’clock at night. When Tariq hung up, he looked up to see Jayliah standing there looking at him crazy.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Exactly where the hell are you on your way to?” Jayliah snapped.

  Tariq fought hard to hide the smirk that wanted to appear on his face. This was the side of Jayliah that he had been missing. That feisty, attitude and acting crazy shit she loved to do didn’t do nothing but turn him on.

  “Out,” was all he said as he got up.

  “Oh, okay,” Jayliah said as she walked to the closet.

  She threw on a PINK sweat suit and tank top before throwing on a pair of Jordans. She grabbed her gun off the shelf before walking out of the closet. Tariq had just finished tying his shoes when he noticed her attire and the fact that she had her gun.

  “Yo, fuck is you doing?” he asked, looking at her as if she had lost her mind.

  “I thought we were going out.”

  Tariq let out a little chuckle as he rubbed the back of his neck.

  “Nah, baby, I can handle this one on my own. I appreciate you wanting to ride for a nigga and all that but you can sit this one out, it ain’t that deep,” he said.

  “So exactly what are you handling on your own?” she asked for clarification. She was going to get him to tell her where he was going one way or another.

  “I need to stop by Shanae’s house real—”

  “Say no more, let’s go,” Jayliah cut him off as she stuffed her gun in the back of her pants.

  “Jay—”

  “If the roles were reversed, would you let me go to my child’s father’s house by myself in the middle of the night?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  Tariq grabbed his jacket and put it on. “Let’s go,” he said.

  “I thought so.” Jayliah smirked.

  “Can you at least leave the gun?” he asked her as they were leaving the room.

  “Nope, but I promise not to lose my cool or use it unless I have to. I will always put Tanae’s safety first,” Jayliah promised.

  Tariq didn’t bother to comment because he believed her. The ride to Shanae’s house in Royal Oak was a rather quiet one; besides the music coming from the radio there was no other sounds. This was the first time that Jayliah and Shanae would actually being seeing each other since the incident at the mall and she was praying to God that ol girl didn’t come out of her mouth crazy to her. She would hate for Tanae to see her mother have to get put on her ass for talking reckless. Tariq, on the other hand, was trying to control his own anger.

  There was no way in hell that he should be having to leave his house in the middle of the night because his daughter called his phone crying for him to come get her. When it came to Tanae, he was asking no questions, he was just jumping up and coming running. He would find out everything he needed to know when he got there.

  When Tariq pulled in Shanae’s driveway, Jayliah sucked her teeth and cut her eyes at him.

  “Oh, you got this bitch laid the fuck out. I know damn well she ain’t making enough money to buy her own Bentley and have her house decked out like this.”

  “Shut the fuck up and hand me my shit out the glove compartment.” He told her.

  Jayliah rolled her eyes as she reached in the glove compartment and took his gun out that he kept in there, tossing it in his lap. Just as she was reaching for the door to open it, Tariq grabbed her by her ponytail and pulled her back to him.

  “Aye, chill the fuck out and lose the attitude because you if was going to be getting mad over some little petty shit I got my baby mama before you even came in the picture, you could’ve stayed at the fucking house,” he told her before kissing her.

  It seemed as if the attitude Jayliah had immediately gone away.

  “Now stay the fuck in the car,” Tariq said.

  When he reached the porch, Tariq thought about using his key to go in but he’d be damned if he gave Jayliah another reason to spazz on him that night. He didn’t want to make shit seem deeper than it was so he took the safe route and knocked on the door.

  “You do have a key nigga, why are you…” her voice trailed off when she noticed Jayliah sitting in the car. “Fuck is this bitch doing at my house?”

  Hearing Shanae call her out of her name, Jayliah let out a laugh. It wasn’t a ‘that was funny’ laugh but more of an ‘I’m about to fuck this bitch up’ laugh.

  “Tariq, just go get your daughter and let’s go. If you don’t want your baby mama to be on an episode of the First 48 out here in this white people neighborhood,” Jayliah mumbled to herself as she felt for her gun.

  As if he could hear Jayliah from the porch, he looked back at her with a look that told her to keep calm.

  “Watch your mouth. Where is Tanae?” he asked.

  “Why? You got me fucked up if you think you’re taking my daughter anywhere this late at night, especially with that bitch,” Shanae spat.

  Tired of her foolishness and knowing Jayliah was two seconds away from jumping out the car, Tariq tried to walk pass Shanae and go in the house but she wasn’t having it.

  “I said no, Tariq, back the fuck up!” she said, pushing him hard in his chest.

  “Now you got me fucked up!” Jayliah said as she got out of the car.

  “Chill, Jay! I got this.” Tariq said, as he turned around.

  Now that he thought about it, bringing Jayliah was actually a bad idea. With her temper and the way she was so quick to pop off mixed with Shanae’s ignorant ass mouth, he should’ve known some shit was bound to pop off.

  “Fuck that, Riq. All that shit flies out the window when that bitch thinks she can put her hands on you,” Jayliah told him as she got closer to the two of them.

  “Bitch boo, this is my child’s father. The fuck are you going to do? Shouldn’t you be worried about trying to find your baby daddy and the rest of your son instead of worrying about me and mine?” Shanae taunted.

  Hearing that caused Jayliah to stop dead in her tracks and look at Tariq as if she was possessed. Hearing this bitch she didn’t know speak of her and her son as if she knew her invoked an emotion in her that she didn’t even know she had. As Tariq was coming towards her, she pulled her gun from her waistline and aimed it at Shanae.

  “Jay, no!” Tariq yelled.

  When Shanae saw the gun, she tried to run back in the house but it was too late.

  POW!

  “Oh fuck!” Tariq yelled as Shanae fell forward on her porch with a bullet wound in her back.

  “Daddy!” Tanae cried as she stood in the doorway, looking lost and confused.

  “You can stay with that bitch, I’m gone,” Jayliah said emotionless as she walked off.

  She jumped in the car, started it and sped off as if she hadn’t just shot someone. Right about now, she didn’t care if she lived or not. Jayliah felt as if all bets were off the table when you talked about someone’s child; especially hers. Even though Tariq was one of the best things that had ever happened to her since giving birth, at this point, she didn’t even care if her actions had caused her to lose him. Right about now, her focus was going to be on trying to find out the truth about her son and, if he was in fact still alive, getting him back.

  Chapter Twelve

  Quaid was awaken from his sleep when he felt himself being lifted up and something warm being wrapped around his body. He jumped out of fear and tried to put up the best fight his weak body would allow him to.

  “Shh, calm down. It’s just me,” Quadir said as he walked out of the attic.

  Even though he was dazed and confused as to what was going on, Quaid relaxed a little. He shielded his face from the light as his dad led him out of the house and laid him down in the backseat of a car. Quadir shook his
head in disgust and felt like a piece of shit when he saw the condition he had allowed his own son to get into. He realized that he’d done all that bad mouthing Sharon and dogging her out but he was no better than her.

  He had allowed his greed and a selfish bitch to get in the way of him actually getting to know his son. Here he was, treating his own flesh and blood like a dog when he could have been using this time to catch up on some of the things he’d missed out on in his life. He wanted to call Jayliah and tell her he was dropping him off but he wanted to nurse him back to perfect health and actually spend time and explain to him what was going on.

  When Quadir pulled up to his house, he got Quaid out the backseat with the cover still wrapped around his little body and headed into his house. When they got in the house, he walked him straight upstairs where he already had Quaid’s room set up for him. Quadir laid him down in the bed before he went downstairs to the kitchen where he had a plate of food waiting on him. When he got back upstairs and gave the plate to Quaid, he dug right in and immediately started stuffing his face.

  “When you’re done, I’ll let you take a bath then I want to talk to you,” Quadir told him.

  Quaid just nodded his head as he continued to stuff food in his mouth without even looking up. When Quadir left his son’s room, he went to his room and pulled his phone out. He dialed Sharon’s number and waited for her to answer.

  “I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t call me. You got your mo—”

  “The shit is over, I’m not doing this no more,” Quadir cut her off.

  “What do you mean?” Sharon asked.

  “You know exactly what I mean. You can keep your money from now on because I have no use for it. This shit is over, Sharon. You lost. You need to stop being a miserable bitch and try to get to know your grandson. If you ever threaten him again or his mother, it’ll be your arm they find in a box and I’ll make sure of that,” Quadir said before hanging up.

  He had had enough of letting Sharon dictate his life when it came to his son. True enough, he didn’t have to allow it but years ago he was just a child so he did what he thought was right but now he was fed up with the bullshit.

  “I’m done,” Quaid said as he stood in the doorway.

  “Already?” Quadir asked. Then he shook his head, remembering he hadn’t really been eating. “Never mind, let’s get you in the tub.”

  Quadir headed to the bathroom where he ran Quaid some bath water before going to the room to get him some clean clothes.

  “Go ahead, take as long as you want. When you’re done, you can come in my room so we can talk,” he told Quaid.

  “Okay,”

  When he left, he headed back to his room to think about how he wanted to start this conversation off. He knew he was a poor excuse of a father and wasn’t going to make any excuses for his behavior or for what he had done. He knew Quaid was old enough to understand things and wasn’t dumb so he was just going to keep it real with him. There was a big chance he resented and hated him anyways so there was nothing else he could do. How could a man that helped make you come into your life after being gone for eight years and just kidnap you for a bitch that never liked him in the first place and some money?

  A little while later, while Quadir was laying in the bed watching TV, Quaid peeked his head in the room. He stood there for a minute just staring at the man who was supposed to be his father. While he was in the bathroom taking a bath, he was trying to make sense of the situation he was in and figure exactly what he had done to be treated so badly.

  When his dad first came back, he was ecstatic because he had always wondered where he was and why he had never met him before. Of course, he had heard his mom talk about him before but it wasn’t the same as actually knowing him. He was confused on how they could go from hanging out, laughing and playing the game one day to him being locked in a cold, dark attic by the same man.

  “You can come in,” Quadir said.

  Quaid had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realized that Quadir had turned the TV off and sat up in the bed. With his head down, Quaid slowly walked into the room because he didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t know why all of a sudden his “dad” was being nice to him again.

  “Have a seat on the bed,” Quadir told him. Once he was seated, he began to talk. “First off, I owe you a huge apology for the bullshit I have been putting you through and even though you may not accept it, I’m still going to be man enough to say I’m sorry. I had no right to take you from your mother, especially when I know she loves you dearly and she’s probably losing her mind without you right now. As far as me, I know I’m a poor excuse for a father and I don’t deserve to have a wonderful son like you in my life. As soon as you get some weight back on you, I’ll take you back to Jay but I want you to know that I really am sincerely sorry,” Quadir said.

  Quaid sat there for a few minutes not saying anything. His mother and auntie had always taught him that people make mistakes and if you want God to forgive you than you have to forgive other people. He knew it was okay to forgive but that didn’t mean you had to forget.

  “Why did you do it?” he asked softly.

  Quadir let out a little sigh as he told his son the truth. He told him everything from his street dealings when he was a teenager, why he left him and Jayliah before he was even born to how he ended up doing what he did now.

  “Why does my grandma hate me so much and I’ve never even met her?” Quaid asked.

  “The problem isn’t you, Quaid; the problem is really with your mother. She knows that the only way she can ever hurt her is through you so that’s the tactic that she used and like the stupid nigga I am, I fell for it because I was mad, too. I saw that she had moved on and was happy without me and had my son looking up to another man and I wasn’t having that. So yea, at first I was all with the plan but now I realize that not only is Jay getting hurt in the process, but you are too. That shit ain’t cool,” Quadir explained.

  Quaid nodded his head in understanding. Even though he was only eight years old, he was very wise for his age. He understood the fact that he was just a little pawn in a game that his so-called grandmother was playing and even though it didn’t seem like it, his dad was a pawn as well.

  “I mean, I forgive you or whatever, but I’m not the one you need to be worried about. Mom is the one who keeps a loaded gun at all times and even though she has a good heart, her temper’s very bad. She’s not as forgiving as she teaches me to be. Just tell her exactly what you told me and she might not be so hard on you,” Quaid told his dad.

  Quadir let out a light chuckle because he knew what Quaid was telling him was the truth. He still can’t get over the day Jayliah pulled her gun out on him and threatened to blow his head off. He knew she wasn’t going to be as forgiving as their son but he was ready and prepared for whatever she was going to throw his way.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Zeek walked into the kitchen where Nina was sitting at the table eating. As of late, the two had been getting close and even though she wasn’t Coco, she did a good job of filling that void he felt without her. Whenever Nina was around, she helped keep his mind off Coco which made it easier for him to not want to fly her out to Cuba.

  “I was just about to come get you, your food is starting to get cold,” Nina told him.

  “I don’t have time to eat it anyways,” he said before tossing a piece of fruit in his mouth. “I have to meet with your dad.”

  “Ehh,” Nina rolled her eyes.

  Zeek just chucked as he walked out of the kitchen. He wasn’t about to get in the middle of Nina and José’s issues. Whatever they had going on was between them. When he got outside, his driver was already outside the car waiting on him. Zeek nodded his head as he opened the back door for him to get in. In the time that he had been down there in Cuba, Zeek had gotten spoiled with the maids, cooks, and drivers. I’m definitely taking some of this treatment back to the D with me, he thought to himself as the driver got i
n and pulled off.

  On the ride to José’s compound, Zeek reflected on his life. He thought about how far he has come and how much further he would like to go. He wanted to do more with his life than be a part of the drug game. He wanted to open up his own business and make legit money but he didn’t want the usual club scene because that was played out to him.

  Even though people might have looked at him as a bad guy for plaguing the streets of Detroit with drugs, he wasn’t forcing nobody to smoke crack or do blow. He actually wanted to help the kids who grew up like him, with either one parent in the household or none at all. He wanted to show them that there are other alternatives than turning to the streets like he did. He wanted to open up community centers or places where they could just hang out in the day to help get them off the streets.

  Before Zeek knew it, they were pulling up to José’s compound. He had his shit set up like he was Tony Montana with guards walking around with guns ready to smoke you if they saw fit to. The car came to a stop in a circular driveway in front of his mansion. Two guards came out and met Zeek at the car to pat him down before he was granted entrance to the house.

  When he walked in, Zeek couldn’t help but to nod his head in amazement at immaculateness of the house. By no means was Zeek’s money short, but José’s paper was on a whole other level.

  “Ahh, he has arrived,” José said as he walked down his staircase. “Let’s go to my office.”

  Zeek just nodded his head as he followed behind the stubby older man. When they reached the office, two guards followed them in while two stood outside the door that José closed behind him.

  “Well, Ezekiel, I must say that I am very impressed. I received my money from Señor Tariq today and it was not short at all. He should be receiving his package from me sometime today as well,” José informed him.