3
I Wanna Get 2 Know Ya
It was two o'clock Thursday morning. Unique sat patiently in her living room, awaiting Bigg's arrival. He was late. Tapping her foot, she sat mad as hell. They were supposed to be on the road by now. Unique tried calling his cell phone, but each time his voice mail would pick up. This was the very reason she didn't work outside her circle. At least with the girls she had complete and utter control.
The past week for Unique could be described as hell, to say the least. After the disastrous meeting at the clinic with her mother, more bad news came in. The doctors called and confirmed that Syleena indeed had brain cancer. The only thing Unique could do was break down and cry upon hearing the news.
She regretted everything she'd said that day. She was just so frustrated by the news of her mother possibly having cancer and by her mother's behavior that it all just became too much for her; but Unique, being the chick she was, managed to somehow bring it all back together. She and Bigg had a job to do, and she couldn't let her mother's illness get in the way and fuck up her head.
Speaking of Bigg, after doing some background digging, Unique learned that before he got locked up, he was doing it real big. He grew up on the south side of St. Louis with Cezar. They both attended the same high schoolâRoosevelt. Bigg was a good guy. He played basketball his entire time in school, but his dreams of making it to the NBA were dashed when he busted his knee during a game. Bigg was crushed. Playing ball was supposed to be his ticket out of the hood.
Since his dreams of playing ball were no longer in reach, he turned to the streets. Cezar was already in the game, so it was only natural that Bigg linked up with him. Cezar introduced Bigg to the drug game. They both sold girl and boy, but as time passed, Bigg gained more territory than Cezar. Cezar wasn't the jealous type, but no matter how hard he tried, he could never bring in a fourth of Bigg's cheese.
Bigg had everything that Cezar wanted: real estate all over St. Louis, two barber shops, liquor stores, a beauty salon, five luxury cars, celebrity friends, and around that time, he had even ventured into the music industry. Business was booming for Bigg. He was living the high life of a young, rich, black bachelorâthat was, until he was pulled over with ten kilos of cocaine in the trunk of his car. Bigg was seventeen years old and sentenced to ten years in prison, but he only ended up serving seven. With Bigg gone, Cezar took over and began running the streets of St. Louis.
* * *
Now fresh out of prison, Bigg was ready to reclaim his spot. He got out of bed, sat on the edge, and looked out into the night sky. The room was pitch black except for the slight glimmer of light shining from the moon up above. It had been seven years since he'd seen the stars. Running his hands down his face, Bigg thanked God once more for bringing him home. This time he was going to do things right. No more jail for him. He would die before he went back.
Since he had been out, Bigg had been making moves left and right. His one and only desire was to regain his crown on the streets. Bigg couldn't stand playing second fiddle to Cezar or any other man. He was grateful that Cezar put him on, but Bigg was used to being his own boss.
As he slipped on his pants and zipped them up, he checked his watch and noticed that he was over an hour late picking up Unique. Bigg knew that he was going to catch hell once he caught up with Unique.
“Baby, where you going?” a young redbone by the name of Brittany purred, half asleep. Poor thing. Bigg had worn the child out. She could barely move after he was done putting it on her.
“A nigga gotta make moves, ma. I'ma holla at you when I get back,” he said, pulling his T-shirt on over his head.
“You can't stay a little while longer?” she whined, exposing her honey-colored double-D breasts.
“I wish I could, but I'm late. I gotta be somewhere.”
“Okay.” Brittany continued to pout.
“I promise when I get back it's me and you.” Bigg kissed her forehead.
“Call me!” she shouted after him.
* * *
An hour later, just as Unique was about to pick up the phone and call Bigg again, she heard a faint knock on the door. Pissed, she snatched the door open. She shook her head and rolled her eyes. Just the sight of him made her sick.
“Yo, my bad. I got caught up,” he tried to explain.
“Yeah, whatever. Let's just go and get this shit over with,” Unique said as she pushed past him.
His nasty ass was probably out fuckin' some ho
, she thought.
“You're forgetting your bags.”
“You can't get 'em for me?”
“Say please.”
“Nigga, you got me fucked up. I'll get my own damn bags,” she huffed, walking back into her loft. Unique grabbed her heavy luggage, which was filled to the brim with designer clothes, shoes, and accessories, and lugged it onto the elevator with her.
“You a'ight?”
“I'm fine.” Unique rolled her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing.
I need to get to the gym
, she thought.
“You sure? Those bags look a little heavy.” He grinned.
“I said I'm fine.”
Unique couldn't wait to be away from him. Bigg was a self-absorbed, arrogant asshole. Standing side by side, she tried not to notice how good he looked. It was a little chilly out, so he sported a gray Enyce jacket, white T-shirt, jeans, and on his feet were a pair of white-and-gray BAPE tennis shoes.
This is gonna be one long weekend
, she thought.
Once they reached the main floor, Unique hoped and prayed that Jeffrey was working the night shift. Stepping off the elevator, she spotted him by the door.
“Jeffrey, can you load these bags in the trunk for me?”
“Sure, ma'am.”
Once everything was settled, Unique got into the rented white Denali truck. She had no intentions of talking to Bigg, so she placed her seat belt on, slid off her pink Juicy flip-flops, folded her arms, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
Hating her attitude but loving the way she looked, Bigg smiled, put the key in the ignition, and began their road trip to Louisiana.
Four and half hours into their trip, Bigg turned the volume up on the radio, pulled out a blunt, and sparked it up.
Eightball and MJG's “Don't Flex” was on. He had no choice but to turn it up; it was his jam. Unique was still asleep. Looking over at her, Bigg couldn't help but laugh. Her head was turned to the left, facing him. The girl was snoring, and on top of that, her mouth was hanging wide open. Bigg even spotted a little trickle of drool sliding down the corner of her lower lip.
“Don't flex, baby.... I wanna see you touch your toes in that dress, baby. . . . Bounce it up and down like we having sex, baby.... ,”
he sang in between taking pulls off the blunt.
Stretching her arms and legs out, Unique yawned. The smell of Purple Haze in the air and Eightball and MJG on the radio had her fully awake. Feeling that her face was wet, she quickly wiped the side of her mouth.
God, I hope he didn't see that
, she thought.
“Where are we?”
“We're in Memphis,” he said, passing her the blunt.
“Thanks,” she replied, inhaling the smoke into her lungs.
“Yo, you was over there knocked the fuck out, snoring and shit.”
“I was not. I do not snore.”
“Somebody lied to you, 'cause you was over there snoring like a muthafucka.”
“Fuck you.” She grinned as her stomach began to growl. “Are you hungry? 'Cause I am.”
“Yeah, we can stop.”
Denny's was only two miles up the road, so they decided to stop there. She put her flip-flops back on, grabbed her purse, and hopped out of the truck. Bigg was already at the door, holding it open for her.
“Thank you.”
“You're welcome,” he replied, admiring her ass.
“Hi. Can we have a table for two?” Bigg asked the waitress once inside.
“Sure. Smoking or non-smoking?”
“Non-smoking, please.”
“Follow me.”
As they walked over to their table, Bigg continued to eye Unique's thick thighs and plump ass as she walked. The jeans she had on were so tight that he swore he caught a glimpse of her pussy print.
After guiding them over to a booth by the window, the waitress, Tracy, gave them both a menu and a glass of water. After ordering, they sat in silence for a minute.
“So, Bigg, what's your real name?” Unique asked, breaking the ice.
“How you know my real name ain't Bigg?”
“I know your momma did not name you Bigg.” She laughed.
“It's Kaylin, sweetheart.”
Hearing Bigg call her sweetheart caused Unique to blush. She couldn't believe that she had graduated to sweetheart level so fast.
“Kay . . . lin. I like that.”
“So, what's up wit' you and Cezar?” he asked out of nowhere.
“Nothing. Why you ask that?”
“I mean, you got keys to the nigga crib and shit. I figured y'all was more than just friends.”
“Well, you figured wrong. Cezar and I are
just friends
,” Unique stressed, hoping she was making herself clear.
“Okay, so what's up with the attitude then, Miss Unique?”
“What you mean by that?”
“You're so cold and defensive all the time. What nigga hurt you?”
“Ain't no man hurt me. Life hurt me.”
“What happened in your life that was so fucked up?”
“Basically, I've been an adult since as far back as I can remember. My mother's been in and out of my life since I was little.”
“What, she a blockhead?”
“Nah, my momma ain't on crack. She's schizophrenic. She's in a mental institution out in Jefferson City. I've been raising my li'l sister for the past five years by myself. It's hard, but I love my li'l sister. She's really the only family I have besides my cousins, Kiara, Kay Kay, and Zoë. We try to go visit her at least twice a month.”
Out of nowhere, Unique's eyes began to well up with tears as she spoke. She hadn't talked about her mother in years, and all the frustration seemed to start spilling out of her all at once. Looking out the restaurant window, she folded her arms across her chest and willed herself not to cry.
“It's hard, you know . . . because . . . me and my moms don't really get along,” she continued.
“And why is that?”
“Because every time she looks at me she sees the man who raped her.” Unique turned and looked Bigg square in the eyes. He didn't know what to say. All he could do was sit and looked stunned.
“Yeah, that's right, I'm a product of rape. I don't know who my ol' dude is and don't wanna know. My mother hates me, and I'll use anybody or anything to get what I want, so now you see there ain't shit a man can do to me that life hasn't already done.” Unique's lower lip began to tremble.
“It's cool, ma. You can cry. Let that shit out.” Bigg reached his hand underneath the table and placed it on her thigh.
“I'm cool.” Unique wiped her eyes and slid her leg away. She couldn't believe that she had allowed herself to have a weak moment in front of Bigg. Unique thrived off of keeping everything together and bottled in.
“Well, if you ever need to talk, I'm here.”
“I won't,” she sniffed.
“Here you go,” the waitress said, placing their meals in front of them and interrupting their conversation.
“Thank you. Can I have some ketchup with this?” Bigg asked, ready to tear into his food.
“Sure.” The waitress handed him a bottle. “Anything else?”
“No, that's all.”
“Ma'am, do you need anything?”
“No, I'm fine,” Unique answered without looking up. She didn't want the waitress to know she had been crying.
Taking a bite of his omelet, Bigg wondered if he should continue to pick Unique's brain. He didn't want to dredge up any more horrible memories from her past, so he decided to switch the subject to relationships.
“So, tell me, Unique. You got a man?”
“Yeah, why?” She looked him square in the eyes.
“'Cause I wanted to know.”
“We've been together for five years.” Taking a bite of her T-bone steak, Unique checked for his reaction.
“Five years?” Bigg was surprised. “Damn, that's a long time. You must love that nigga.”
“Actually, I don't.” Unique laughed a little bit.
“What? How you gon' be wit' a man for five years and not love him?” Bigg grabbed the salt and shook some onto his omelet.
“Easy.” She shrugged her shoulders. “And you shouldn't put salt on your food. You're going to have high blood pressure by the time you're thirty.”
“It's cool.” He waved her off. “But what you mean, easy? You gotta have some kind of feelings for the dude.”
“I mean, he's cool. He gives me whatever I want, and that's all I need from him.”
“So, you are one of those chicks who only want a nigga for his ends.”
“Look.” Unique placed her fork down. “I don't believe in fairy tales and happily-ever-afters. Love will never be in the equation for me.”
“And why is that?” Bigg listened closely, dying to hear her answer.
“Think about it. What is love? Love is nothing but an imaginary feeling that people trick themselves into believing.”
“You really believe that?”