Charmed by a Roughneck 2 Read online

  “Yo, Rochelle!” I yelled, catching up to her as she was leaving the classroom.

  She glanced at me and rolled her eyes, but she slowed her pace anyway. “What’s up, Jerome?”

  Grabbing her arm, I pulled her into the empty hallway. “Man, chill with that damn attitude. Have you talked to Janessa? It’s been two days, and I haven’t heard shit from her. I’ve been calling her since the other day, and she done missed work twice. Is she straight?”

  I hadn’t talked to Janessa since her nigga walked in while we were on the phone. I didn’t know if the nigga had killed her ass or not. On top of that, the mothafucka had been laying low, so I hadn’t seen his ass either, nor had he been at that bitch’s crib he was fuckin’ with on the side.

  That nigga got ghost quick as fuck. Him doing that shit only made me believe he killed her ass and her fuckin’ kids. The not knowing shit really had me pissed the fuck off.

  Rochelle let out a light sigh and pulled her arm from my grip. “She will be. Just give her some time. That’s what she really needs right now. I’ll let her know you’re worried about her.”

  If the bitch wasn’t dead, why the fuck she couldn’t shoot me a quick text saying her ass was good? To know she was alright pissed me off even more. I was thinking the fuckin’ worst, and she was still fuckin’ breathing.

  “No, don’t tell her shit. She ain’t even got to know we talked.” I pushed past her and left the building.

  “What she say?” Jonell asked once I got in the truck.

  I glared out the window at Rochelle, who was walking past. “That her ass is alive.” The harshness in my tone caused my brows to furrow, and I looked over at my brother.

  His expression, I’m sure, mirrored mine. It took me a minute to realize that I was pissed off because her ass wasn’t dead instead of feeling relieved.

  “That’s a good thing, Rome,” Jonell spoke in a questioning tone that irritated me more.

  “If that mothafucka is still breathing, why the fuck she couldn’t let me know she was alright? I’m over here thinking this nigga done killed her stupid ass and her fuckin’ kids. Man, fuck her, real shit. Shid, she probably done forgave that nigga, and that’s why she ain’t hit me up. Yo, fuck that bitch.” I was angry as fuck and felt stupid for even feeling her dumb ass.

  Females like her ass never learned. A nigga could damn near kill they stupid asses, and they’ll stay with the mothafucka. Hell, my fuckin’ momma was a perfect example. She was just a dumb ass bitch through and through. My pops damn near killed all our asses, and she still stayed with that mothafucka.

  “Or, he beat the fuck out of her, and she don’t want you to see her bruised all up.” What he said could’ve been true, but at that moment, I didn't see the logic in that scenario. “You don’t know, but Rome, shorty ain’t Ma,” Jonell added, causing me to mug him hard.

  “What the fuck yo’ momma got to do with shit?” Jonell bringing up our momma only added to my anger. I didn’t know what the fuck that bitch had to do with shit. “If Janessa went back to that mothafucka, then hell yeah, she stupid as fuck just like yo’ bitch ass momma, period. And regardless of how fucked up shorty is, what that got to do with sending out a fuckin’ message saying she’s straight and just needs some time? Man, fuck you and that bitch,” I snapped at him as I began to twist up a blunt.

  Jonell glanced over at me and started laughing. “Nigga, fuck you. Don’t get pissed at me because shorty ghosting yo’ stupid ass. I’mma say this shit again. That babe ain’t Ma, so stop combining their fuckin’ situations. Yo’ stupid ass probably don’t even realize you doing the shit. That’s why you so quick to say fuck her ass because you thinking she’s just like ma. They two different mothafuckas, and you don’t know Janessa’s situation. Yo’ ass on the outside looking into some shit. Ma stayed with pops because she was dumb and in love with his ass. So, don’t go counting that babe out because she’s low for a minute,” he suggested, but I wasn’t trying to hear that shit.

  “Whatever, man.”

  I was done with the whole conversation. I didn’t want to hear anything about Janessa's ass or my mom's. As I ran the lighter over the blunt, I glared at it, and Jonell started laughing again. I knew his ass was about to say some dumb shit that I wasn’t interested in hearing.

  “Shid, if you ask me, it sounds like you don’t wanna write shorty off. You just worried about her and mad because she hasn’t hit you up yet.” He took the blunt I had just lit, puffed on it, and then pointed it at me. “Give that babe time, Rome, and stop running with yo’ crazy ass thoughts.” He went to hit the blunt again, and I took it from him.

  “It’s a good thing I ain’t ask yo’ ass for yo’ fuckin’ thoughts.” I turned up the radio, cutting off whatever smart remark he was going to make.

  I reclined the seat and started toking on the blunt.

  I tossed the jump rope to the side and went to work on the bag. Nipsey Hussle’s “Young Nigga” blared through my earbuds as I got into my zone. I had been at the gym for the past hour, trying to work myself into exhaustion. I felt that was the only way to get killing Montrell off my mind. That shit wasn’t easy, though, because of what Jonell said about her being beaten up. Even so, I still couldn’t shake the feeling that dude was there with her ass. I was just too familiar with how females were when they’re in a situation like that.

  Mentally, I had to laugh to myself at my own anger. Yeah, I was feeling Janessa, but she was never mine. The babe had a whole nigga, and no matter how much I was feeling her ass, that little fact wouldn’t change shit… unless… he was dead.

  My fist worked the bag faster as I laughed to myself. I could kill that nigga, and nobody would know shit. Hell, his dumb ass wouldn’t even see it coming. My dick grew hard as the sudden thought of Janessa killing Montrell popped in my head. That shit would be sexy as fuck.

  Something smacking against my sweaty back, making it slightly sting, pulled me from my crazy thoughts. Grabbing the swinging bag, I stopped it and looked down as something hit my foot. My brows furrowed at the blue rubber ball. I glanced up and saw a little dude with his hands up. The kid looked familiar, but I brushed it off. He was probably just a regular at the gym.

  His hands continued to move, as did his mouth. I couldn’t make out what he was saying as “Grinding All My Life” by Nipsey hammered in my ears. I didn’t care to know what he had said, either. Picking up the ball, I threw it back to him, then went back to working on the bag.

  My thoughts had just shifted back to Janessa and the idea of her killing Montrell when that damn ball hit the back of my head. Now I knew the shit was done on purpose.

  Stopping the bag again, I rested my head against it as I told myself not to get pissed off at the little boy. As I turned around, the kid was right behind me, so damn close that I jumped back. He then reached up and snatched the earbud out of my ear.

  “You Jerome, right?” His face frowned as he stared me up.

  I snatched my earbud from his little ass. “I don’t talk to strangers. Now, go do something else.” I waved him off and started to turn to the punching bag when I noticed him picking up that damn rubber ball. “If yo’ ass hit me with that damn ball again, I’mma break yo’ fuckin’ hands. You hear me?” I didn’t wait for his reply as I turned away from him. The moment I did, the ball hit my shoulder. My head fell back, and I laughed. “Yo, what the fuck do you want?” I faced him again then glanced around the gym, noticing other kids in there. I looked at the wall clock, and my brows furrowed. “Why the fuck all these kids in here?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Since the gym sponsors the football and basketball team with equipment and everything, they scheduled a field trip, so we can learn about the great boxers or whatever.” The kid shrugged, seeming completely uninterested.

  “Great. Go with your class.” I waved him off again.

  “You’re Jerome, right?” he repeated instead of leaving me the fuck alone.

  My hand rubbed at my forehead before I walked
over to the bench and grabbed my towel. “Yeah.” Getting my water, I took a long drink while looking the kid over.

  Noticing a small bruise on the side of his left eye, I calmed down my irritation. Maybe the kid was getting bullied and wanted somebody to talk to. Why the fuck he thought it was a good idea to come to my ass was beyond me.

  I sat on the bench and nodded at him. “What’s up? Some kids fuckin’ with you? If so, I ain’t trying to go back to jail for beating up no damn kids.” He looked confused for a second until I pointed to his eye.

  He gave me an irritated look and put the ball under his arm. “Ain’t no damn kid did this. Don’t nobody mess with me.” A glare came on his face, and my brow rose at that. “You don’t remember me?”

  I glanced around, hoping like fuck to see a teacher, Ashaun’s ass, some damn body, so they could get this gotdamn kid away from me.

  “No, am I supposed to?”

  He shrugged. “You my momma’s student. Remember, I was knocking on your door that one time, and you came out pissed?” He smiled at that.

  My head tilted to the side, and I really took him in. “Oh shit, you Janessa’s boy.” The moment realization hit me, I wanted to ask him about his momma. Hell, pick his damn brain and see what I could get out of him. I stopped myself, though. He was only a kid, and he didn’t need to be dragged into that shit. Even so, I was going to entertain him. “How the hell you remember me?” I had only seen the little boy once.

  “Because I saw you, that’s how. I remember people. Plus, my momma told me you were her student.” He threw the ball hard at me.

  I caught it before the thing could hit me in the face. “You keep throwing shit at me, I’mma lay yo’ little ass out and drag you home to yo’ damn momma.”

  His lips twisted, and he gave me a bored look before he flopped down beside me. “Maybe. So… Look, Jerome, I’mma ask you something, and I want you to be straight up with me.”

  I grabbed my water once again and laughed at the little dude. The little nigga seemed fearless as fuck. I liked him. “Shoot, and I’ll give it to you straight,” I told him as I drank some more of my water.

  “I’ight… Are you having sex with my momma?”

  That question caught me off guard, and I started choking hard, causing water to spill from my nose and mouth. It took me several minutes to get myself together.

  “What?” My voice was hoarse to the point that I didn’t recognize it. Clearing my throat again, I took another drink of my water, trying to get rid of the scratchiness. “Nigga, what the hell is you asking me? Why the fuck would you ask me some shit like that?” What the fuck was she saying about me in front of her gotdamn kids?

  “Just answer the damn question. This is just between the two of us. So, man to man, be honest with me. I ain’t gonna get mad.” The way he spoke to me wasn’t in a child’s manner, regardless of how soft his damn voice was.

  My throat was still scratchy, but I managed to laugh no less. “Nah, I ain’t fuckin’ yo’ moms, man.” His eyes slanted, and he mugged me as if doing so would make me tell his ass the truth, which I was already doing. Again, I laughed. “Honest to God, I ain’t fucked yo’ moms,” I told him while drawing a crucifix across my chest.

  After a minute, his glare faded, and he gave a simple nod. “I’ight, cool. So, you be boxing, huh?”

  I shrugged. “Not professionally, but yeah, I’m some good. Now that I done answered yo’ question, answer mine, man to man.”

  He glanced at me and laughed. “Okay, shoot, and I’mma give it to you straight.”

  I returned his chuckle. “Why you ask me that shit about yo’ moms? Did she tell you we were fuckin’?”

  He looked at me like I was stupid. “Dude, I’m a kid. Do you think she’ll have a conversation like that with me?” He pointed to himself.

  I nodded at that because he had a point, but that didn’t explain why he asked me that shit.

  “I heard her and Montrell arguing about you. He called her a hoe and said she wanted to break up with him because she was fuckin’ you. Then they started fighting.” As he said that last bit, his thumb rubbed over the bruise by his eye.

  My body grew tense with rage. That’s how the kid got the bruise, dude hit his ass. There was no doubt in my mind that the kid tried to help his momma out and got struck. “Yo’ momma ain’t no hoe. She ain’t fuckin’ me. I tried to get at her, but she shut me down.” His eyes snapped to mine when I said that. I shrugged. “Yo’ mom’s sexy—I mean, cute as fuck to me.”

  He nodded at that. “Yeah, she’s beautiful. I knew he was lying. He always thinks she’s cheating, but she never brought another man around us, and she’s with us all the time.” He let out a light breath as he stared down at his hands.

  The kid looked stressed the fuck out. It was fucked up for a kid to have such an old look to him at a young age.

  “You shouldn’t let the shit between yo moms and pops—”

  “Montrell ain’t my dad. My daddy in jail. I don’t know him, though.” He shrugged then sat up straight. “What was you in jail for?” I looked away from him, and the little nigga popped my ass in the chest. “Don’t think about lying either. I ain’t no punk-ass kid that you can easily lie to.” He glared at me. “We’re talking man to man, remember?”

  “Yo, keep yo’ damn hands to yourself before I break those bitches. I’mma give yo’ ass a man to man ass beating, you feel me?” I glared hard at him, trying to be as menacing as possible.

  His glare softened, and he broke out laughing. “You look constipated as hell. If you were trying to scare me, you failed at that shit, man.”

  My head shook at little dude before I laughed too. “You a weird ass dude. Any other kid would’ve been scared of my ass.”

  Again, he shrugged. “I’m not like most kids. So, be honest. Why were you locked up?” he repeated.

  I leaned forward, placing my elbows on my knees. Seeing movement on the side of me, I glanced at him and chuckled as he mimicked the position that I was in. “I killed my pops.” I couldn’t begin to explain or understand why I decided to be straight up with the kid.

  He sat up straight then. “Damn, why you do that?” For the first time since he approached me, little dude looked surprised as hell but not scared.

  “He used to beat up on my momma, me, and my brother. One day, Nelly and I came home while our pops was whooping on our momma. Shid, I snapped, and he was dead.” I wasn’t going into detail as to how I killed the nigga.

  His head started to bob as if he understood why I did that. He turned to me and pointed to his bruise. “That’s how I got this. Montrell was on my momma. I tried to get him off her, and he hit me with his elbow. I be dreaming about killing him all the time, just to get him away from my momma.”

  Once those words left his mouth, I realized why I liked the little dude. I was him at his age, maybe a little rougher, though. Hell, I was barely hanging onto my innocence when thoughts of murdering my dad started to fill my dreams.

  “What was jail like?”

  That question pissed me off, and before I knew it, I had jacked the little nigga up and brought us face to face. “Jail ain’t no place for no little ass kid—” His mouth opened, and I glared hard at him. “Yo, shut the hell up and listen to what I’m telling yo’ ass. You ain’t no fuckin’ man yet. You still a fuckin’ child, yo. That shit with yo’ moms and that nigga, stay out of it. Let yo’ momma handle that shit. Man, where yo’ head at, you don’t need those thoughts. You feel me?”

  He pushed my hands off of him as angry tears filled his eyes. “She doesn’t have nobody else to protect her. I’d rather him die than my momma, and if I have to go to jail for killing him, then I will. I don’t care.” He said that shit with so much rage and determination; I felt that shit in my soul.

  Strangely, that made me respect his young ass.

  “Look, little dude, I ain’t saying you shouldn’t want to protect yo’ momma, but the shit you thinking about doing ain’t the way. You too dam
n young to be thinking about killing a nigga. Prison ain’t for kids, man. I was fourteen when I got locked up. That shit ain’t pretty. It’ll eat a little mothafucka like you alive. You feel me?” My hand hit his chest, getting him to glance up at me.

  “You can’t tell me what to do. I can’t just sit around and not do anything. I did that when I was younger, and everything only got worse for her,” he angrily ground out.

  From how pissed he was, I wondered how bad Janessa was beaten up.

  “You right, little dude. I can’t tell you shit, and yo’ ass ain’t got to listen to me. You should, though. I’ve been where you at and made that same damn decision you’re thinking about. You wanna end up like me?”

  He looked me up, then glanced around the gym. His shoulders shrugged. “No, but we do what we have to, and I don’t want my momma to be hurt no more.” His voice was low, as if he was just tired.

  My hand ran over my head before it fell back, and I looked at the ceiling. After a minute, my gaze fell on him. “I’ll do you a solid. If dude ever comes back, you give me a call, and I’ll show up and protect yo’ momma.”

  He stared at me for a long time, with confusion swirling in his eyes. “Why would you do that?”

  “Because I don’t wanna see you end up like me. Plus, I hate punk ass niggas who put they hands on women. I fuck with yo’ momma. She’s good people and don’t deserve that shit. How yo’ moms doing now?” I hoped like hell she was good and wasn’t fucked up too bad.

  “She’s been better, but she’s alright. Let me ask you something else.”

  I groaned out loud with that statement. I didn’t want his ass to ask me no more questions. He had me wanting to commit murder for his little ass, and I wasn’t trying to go back to prison.