This Could Be Us But You Playin' Read online

  This Could Be Us But You Playin’

  By:

  Cachet

  Copyright © 2016 Cachet

  Published by Cole Hart Presents

  All rights reserved. The text of this publication, or any part thereof, may not be reproduced in any matter without written permission from the author and/or publisher.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Character names, places, or events are of the author’s imagination. Any references to actual events or real people is entirely coincidental.

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  Dedication

  This book is dedicated to my husband, Stephen Andres Sr., and my children; Keiasya, Tre’Maine, Stephen Jr., and Zaria. Thank you all for letting me experience the kind of love that many people would die for.

  To everyone who has ever picked up a book with Cachet on the cover.

  My stories would go unread if it wasn’t for all of you.

  It’s your support that keeps me doing what I do.

  I appreciate you guys more than you’ll ever know.

  So please stick around and watch as I continue to grow.

  As an author, storyteller, or writer, which ever you choose,

  And know that I read each and every one of your reviews.

  So thank you again, for your love and support,

  And know that I’ll try my best to never fall short.

   Cachet

  Stay in touch

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  Prologue

  Kaleb looked down at his phone as he used his thumb to scroll down the many pictures that had been posted. There were quite a few selfies, photos of little kids dressed as grown-ups and more memes than he could keep up with. Kaleb paused for a second when he came across one picture that stood out. It was a plate of food. A quick glance at the poster’s name forced him to chuckle out loud. With a name like ‘TightN’JuicyKat’, he hoped that her box was good and wet like she claimed because from the photo that he was looking at, she damn sure couldn’t cook if her life depended on it. The fact that she posted it made him wonder what the hell she was thinking in the first place.

  The plate that was sloppily made looked disgusting and just the thought of eating something so vile made him sick to his stomach. There were three pieces of fried chicken legs that were doused with hot sauce, but even then, Kaleb could still see that they were way too dark for his liking. To the left of the chicken was a clump of extremely soupy macaroni and to the right sat a pile of collard greens that were stiff looking. They also looked like the chick had just pulled them off the stem a few minutes prior because they didn’t looked to be cooked at all. The very last thing he saw on the dish made Kaleb do a double take. It was a charred slice of cornbread that she had the nerve to put a large piece of butter on top of, as if that would actually help.

  “I hope this shit is a fucking joke,” he said to himself in utter disgust.

  “Nah, this ain’t no joke, mu’fucka. This ass whipping you getting in pool is for real, nigga,” Desmond, his best friend, teased as he sunk another ball into the pocket. “I want my damn money too, and I don’t wanna hear no shit about paying me later. Cash out is today.”

  “Man, ain’t nobody thinking about yo’ old non-shooting ass.” Kaleb laughed as he shot a quick glance toward the pool table before returning his focus back to his phone.

  It was a Friday night and since it had been raining since earlier, the two best friends were in the basement of Kaleb’s home drinking and playing a few games of pool. When Desmond saw what his friend was doing, he snorted.

  “I should’ve known yo’ ass was over there on Instagram. Don’t you ever get tired of that fake shit?” Desmond asked as he bent down and lined up to take his next shot.

  “What’s fake about it?” Kaleb asked. He already knew the answer to his question; he just liked to see his boy riled up.

  “Nigga, are you serious?” Desmond asked, taking the bait after he sunk yet another shot. He laid the pool stick on the table and walked over to where Kaleb was sitting, before he broke down his logic. “Everything is fake about that bullshit. First, you got those cement booty ass models, who swear they the shit because they got a few thousand followers. For some reason, they don’t understand that the only reason niggas are on their pages is because they are always posting damn near naked pictures. Hoes got booking info in their bio, but the only places you ever see ‘em is on IG or in some smoky ass club. What I don’t understand is how does having fifty thousand followers and posting butt shots all day qualify you as a model?” Desmond asked, even though he wasn’t looking for an answer. “Then, you got the ballers, who are always posting pictures of money and what they got. See them niggas out and about in real life, and they begging you to either pay their way in the club or buy ‘em a drink.” Desmond shook his head. “Broke niggas flexing for the gram.”

  “I know a few of them,” Kaleb agreed.

  “Then it’s the miserable chicks.”

  “Who?”

  “Yeah, you know who I’m talking about. Those are the ones who are always male bashing, posting those corny ass quotes all the time. Either her man left her for another bitch, or he’s cheating on her ass every chance he gets. Whichever the reason that fits is why she’s always mad and talking shit. It’s because she’s miserable.”

  Kaleb laughed. “Who the fuck you think you are, some kind of psychiatrist or something? You breaking shit down like you know these folks or something.”

  “Shit, I might as well because their stories are always the same. I know how people work bro.” Desmond smiled cockily as he took a seat on the bar stool beside his friend. “What about the happily single chicks? Always posting shit about the single life. They are quick to claim independent and are always buying themselves shit just to post it, knowing they wish they had a nigga to do the shit for them. That or at least to dick them down every once in a while because some of these hoes so backed up; I know for a fact that a lil’ piece of dick would have them cool, calm, and collective.” He rubbed his hand across his face, while he cracked up at his own joke. Once he finished chuckling, he continued.

  “Let’s not forget the chick who swears that she has the best man in the world. She uploads a hundred pictures of them doing dumb shit like watching TV, sleeping, or eating. There are a million screenshots posted of all of the cute and loving things he says. This is all so she can show the world that she got a man. Never once does the bitch post of picture of them going out. You wanna know why?”

  “I’m almost afraid to ask,” Kaleb sighed.

  “Because that nigga either broke as fuck and can’t afford to take her ass anywhere, or he don’t wanna be seen out in public with her ass because he’s embarrassed. That or got another girl. I could go on and on about this subject if you want me to.”

  “Nigga, shut the fuck up!” Kaleb cracked up. “You always talking shit.”

  “You know I’m telling the truth though.” Desmond laughed. “That’s why I ain’t on that bullshit no more. I got tired of trying to cypher between what’s real and what’s fake. I almost got got by a bitch not too long ago. Somehow, this chick ended up following me. Every time I turned around, she was commenting on my pictures with heart emojis and shit like that. One day, for the hell of it, I clicked on her name, and when I did, I seen that she’s fine than a muthafucka. I’m talking about this bitch was stacked!” Desmond exclaimed.

  “Anyway, we ended up talking. She sending me
all kinds of pictures of her and shit. I noticed that even while she’s telling me that she’s lying down, the pictures she’s sending me are always her out and about. So, I ask the hoe to FaceTime me, so I can see her in person. You know, see what she really look like. Man, this hoe gave me every excuse in the book of why we couldn’t do it. First her camera was broke, and then her internet was acting up. After a while, I got tired of asking and told her to lose my fucking number because I ain’t have time for that catfishing shit. That’s when I realized that people can be anyone they wanna be on social media, and I ain’t got time to figure out who is who. I got better shit to do with my time.”

  Desmond picked up his beer that was sitting on top of the bar and took a long swig. When his thirst was quenched, he put the bottle back down and looked over at Kaleb. When he saw him staring intently at something on his phone, he leaned in to see what had his attention.

  “Check this shit out right here.” Kaleb tilted his phone so that he could get a better look.

  “What the fuck is that?” Desmond paused. Once he was sure of what he was seeing, he spoke, “A side nigga contract?” he asked with his eyebrows raised. When he was finished reading it to the end, he chuckled. “People come up with anything these days.”

  “Hell yeah!” Kaleb agreed. “That shit say, I will be available for you five nights a week, and I will keep my mouth shut about our business at all times,” he snorted.

  “Yeah, I saw some shit similar to that a little while ago. I started to send it to you, but I figured you had already filled out yours,” Desmond said seriously.

  “What?” Kaleb looked at him like he was crazy. “Nigga, what the fuck you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that you are Nikki’s side nigga?”

  “No the fuck I ain’t!” Kaleb responded with his face turned up. “We just be fucking around.”

  “Yeah…a’ight.” Desmond dismissed him with a wave of the hand.

  “I’m serious, we just be fucking around. She gotta nigga and I’m cool with that.”

  “Mu’fucka, that is the definition of a side nigga with yo’ crazy ass!” Desmond cackled, slapping his hand on top of the bar. He was laughing so hard; he almost fell off the stool.

  “See, you tryna play me. You act like I ain’t with Te-Te,” Kaleb stated, talking about his girlfriend Tiera. “Have you forgot about her?”

  “Nigga, have you forgot about her? When was the last time that you took the girl somewhere?” When Kaleb didn’t respond, Desmond continued. “Come on man, you know that I love Te-Te like a sister, but you’d be lying if you said that you wouldn’t drop her ass in a split second if Nikki told you that she was ready to be with you and only you.” He paused to let his statement marinate. “My question is; do you think she would do the same with her nigga if you told her that you wanted to be exclusive?”

  “Hell yeah, I know she would,” Kaleb professed, sitting straight up.

  “Alright, well in that case, keep doing your thing. Don’t let me rain on yo’ parade,” Desmond said with his hands up in surrender. He stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of the nearby chair. “Put ya chest in nigga.” He laughed. “Got that bitch all poked out like you was ready to do something.”

  “Fuck you nigga, with yo’ yellow ass,” Kaleb joked.

  “This coming from a mu’fucka that’s only a shade darker than me…if that.” Desmond paused, shaking his head. “Nah, for real, I just don’t want to see you get into trouble behind this shit. Or even worse…hurt.”

  “I’m good bro,” Kaleb assured him, giving his friend a pound.

  “Cool because you know I’m behind you no matter what. Right or wrong, I’ll fuck something up if I have to,” Desmond told him confidently. “That nigga big as shit though, so I’ll have to break him down a little bit, but I’ll get him together for ya bro,” he joked, even though he was dead serious.

  “I know you will, and you already know that I’ll do the same for you.”

  “No doubt.” Desmond leaned in and pulled his friend into a brotherly hug. “I’ll holler at you later, bro.”

  “Bet.”

  As Desmond walked away, Kaleb watched him until he rounded the corner and jogged up the stairs. Once his best friend was out of his sight, he sighed and dropped his head. He couldn’t help but to think about what Desmond had asked him. Although he claimed that he knew Dominique would leave her dude for him, he was lying. What he didn’t tell Desmond was that he had asked her over and again and still, she wouldn’t budge. The truth was that Dominique didn’t have plans to leave her man alone, even though shit had gotten serious between the two of them. He loved Dominique; always have and probably always would. He just wished that things were different than what they were between them.

  Kaleb knew that he was the reason why they weren’t together, and it was all because of his fuck up years prior. He realized that there was nothing he could do to change that, even though he would give anything to go back and make it right. Dominique was supposed to be his girl. She was supposed to have bared his children, but instead, she was engaged to be married to someone else. Someone who Kaleb knew was a piece of shit liar who didn’t deserve to be anywhere near her. He wasn’t a hater though, and didn’t voice the things that he knew about her fiancé; who, unbeknownst to Dominique, was grimy as hell and Kaleb knew that for a fact. So, instead of running his mouth like a female, he sat back and hoped that Dominique would see everything for herself. Once that happened, she would run right to him where she should have been from day one.

  After sitting in the same spot for a few more minutes, Kaleb got up and headed upstairs. As he grabbed another beer out of the fridge, he came to the conclusion that Dominique was going to have to make up her mind on who she wanted to be with. Kaleb just hoped it was him that she chose because he didn’t know what he would do if it wasn’t. He was tired of playing the back and forth game with her. One minute, she claimed to be all in, and the next, she was running back to her man. Either she was going to be his and only his, or they were going to have to call it quits. What he didn’t know was that either way, it wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought that it would be.

  Chapter One

  Five years earlier…

  “Nikki, get yo’ ass in here right now and clean up this muthafucking mess!” Monique ordered as she stood in the middle of her kitchen in disbelief. “Nikki!” she yelled out again when she didn’t receive an answer.

  Her nose flared as she looked at all the messy milk filled bowls that were strewn all over her table. The kitchen chairs, which should have been pushed back in place, were instead scattered about; one even flipped sideways and resting on the floor. Monique’s blood boiled when she saw the empty box of Cocoa Puffs as it laid on its side; the chocolatey sugar from the bottom of the bag spilled everywhere. Her daughter had lost her fucking mind if she thought she wasn’t going to get her ass beat behind this. Monique had spent the last few hours with her guy friend and was not in the mood for all of the shit that was in front of her. After the rough night she had, her only plan was to come home, take a hot bath, and go to bed. Unfortunately, her relaxing would have to wait because she now had an ass to kick.

  Sliding her shoes off, Monique picked them up and shuffled into her bedroom, which was off of the kitchen. After slipping her dress over her shoulders and down her body, she kicked it across the room toward her dirty clothes hamper that sat in the corner. A pile of her previously discarded clothes spilled from the top of the basket and onto the floor. When she noticed them, she turned her nose up. Nikki’s hardheaded ass better make sure that she gets in here to clean my fucking room and wash my clothes tomorrow, she thought to herself. Taking her focus off of the clothes, Monique opened up the top drawer to her dresser and pulled out a nightshirt. After she slid it over her head and down her naked body, she stepped into her house shoes that were nearby.

  As she stood in front of her dresser, Monique took a close look at her face. She turned her
head from side to side. She was looking for any scars that may have been present. When she saw a few scratches near her forehead, she pursed her lips before moving her attention to her left eye, which was now swollen and red. Other than those obvious marks, everything else was okay. Thinking about the events from the last hour caused Monique to laugh out loud. Although there was nothing funny at all about the situation, what else could she do to keep herself from crying? Monique couldn’t believe how her guy friend had played her and promised herself to tell him exactly how she felt the next time he decided to call her phone, not that she thought he would actually reach out to her after what had gone down at his place.

  When Monique finished giving her face another once over, she turned and exited her bedroom. Quickly, she marched down the hall headed to the area where her oldest two daughters slept. As soon as she got to the door, she pushed it open and clicked on the light. On one side of the room was Tiffany, her second oldest daughter. Her hot pink comforter was pulled over her head, and she snored lightly. On the other side of the room was her daughter, Dominque, who was sixteen. She was laid in her bed sleeping, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. This angered Monique because there she was, knocked out in dream land, while her house was a fucking mess.

  When Monique left out earlier, she told Dominique to feed the kids, take them a bath, and clean up her house once she was finished, before putting them to bed. This was something that Dominique was responsible for daily, so there was really no need for Monique to explain it to her, even though she did. Apparently, Dominique thought that tonight would be the night that she would say fuck her mother and do what the hell she wanted to do. She was about to soon find out that today was not her lucky day because her mother was in a very foul mood.