Fiending for His Love Read online

  “You know I was trying to save you, you know help you. You are the one that came up in here all beaten up.” The nurse sucked her teeth.

  “Beaten up? I said it was a damn accident. Go try to save someone else. I don’t need to be fucking saved!”

  “The next time he beat your ass and you come up in here I’ll just ignore it since ya ass don’t need to be saved.” The nurse said under her breath.

  Before leaving out she began to giggle, which pissed Charisma off. She hated the fact that a stranger who didn’t know her tried to make fun of her and judge her at the same time.

  “Bitch laugh at me one more damn time and I will wipe that damn smile off your face and you’ll be the one that needs to be saved.” Charisma yelled as she got all up in the nurse face, invading her privacy. The nurse didn’t back down. She was ready for Charisma to put her hands on her so she could lay her out. Or so she thought. To piss Charisma off the nurse laughed right in her face and turned around saying all sorts of rude things to Charisma. Charisma down near lost it and before she was able to put her hands on the nurse someone came saving the nurse and ending the commotion between the two of them before it escaladed into a cat fight. Truthfully, Charisma didn't want to fight the nurse; she was way too classy for that. But the nurse didn't care how classy Charisma was. She wasn't going to tolerate the disrespect. As soon as Charisma walked past her she grabbed her by her locks and started to go hard.

  Charisma quickly turned around and kicked her in her chin. Having the upper hand, Charisma beat the brakes off of the girl. After she was done, she neatly placed her hair in a tight bun at the top of her head.

  “I'm sorry everyone,” she told the bystanders.

  Her apology didn't mean a thing, Charisma ended up getting kicked out of the hospital. She didn’t mind because her man was right there to pick her up. The nurse on the other hand got the shitty end of the stick. She was only concerned about her patient and in return she got her ass beat and loss her job of five years. Plenty of times she’d seen females come in who were battered and bruised by their lover but stated otherwise. It was her job to report anything that she thought was suspicious. Over the next few days Charisma and Trent joked about their freak accident….

  Months later…

  Trent was sitting in the living room bagging up his drugs while Charisma sat Indian-style across from him counting his money. Every day she saw more progress in Trent’s hustling. She remembered when he used to nickel and dime it. Now her man was that nigga pushing nothing but weight; selling pure cocaine throughout all of the towns in Philadelphia. When she first met Trent he had a nice wardrobe, a nice car, and a nice house. Now they had so much more. He was a much better and successful hustler with a little encouragement from his girl, who was his number one fan.

  The finer things in life that her father had once given her and worked so damn hard for, she was now getting way much more of from Trent. Trent hustled hard for himself and Charisma and was hoping that one day he could build a future with her. He was craving for a little Trent. Some nights he spent dreaming about a Trent Jr. and marrying the love of his life.

  “Babe, soon we going to have to get a money counter. This is way too much money for me to be counting by hand,” Charisma expressed.

  Trent nodded his head up. She was right. There was a lot of stuff that he needed to start investing his money in. A money counter was definitely one of those many things.

  Charisma was naive to the life of a hustler. She thought the only thing that Trent did was sell drugs and bring home hella money for her to spend. There was so much more to Trent that Charisma had no clue about. Really, he was living another life.

  Trent also had the blood of many men on his hands. He also had many niggas who wanted his ass. Before he got where he was he done a lot of dirty work. He had to start from somewhere right? Years ago Trent was just a young boy who wanted a piece of the pie. He dreamed of money every night; it was everything to him. Him and his partner Trig use to go out and rob small time hustlers. One day they finally hit a big lick. A well-paid hustler was in town from New Jersey and was stunting like hell. It was obvious to Trent and trigger happy Trig that the nigga was asking to be robbed. So they put in that work and took what they lawfully claimed was theirs and from there they were able to live carefree. Or so they thought.

  After that big come up they left robbery alone. They had no need for it. For the love of money, Trent and Trig dipped and dabbed in selling females. They would find young dumb girls, turn them out, and ship them off to Florida to Trent's cousin Blaze, who would pay a good amount for each worthy female. If Blaze didn't want them he would always sale them off to some thirsty pimp. If Trent hadn’t fell so hard for Charisma she would have been long gone and probably would have lost her mind due to the crucial punishment that Blaze would have surely given her.

  Charisma began to huff and puff as if she was the only one putting in hard work. As a matter-of-fact, Trent felt like she was behaving as if she did a damn thing besides sit on her pretty ass while shouting demands, spend money like it was water, and a little bit of cooking and cleaning here and there. All Trent asked her to do was one simple thing and that was to count the money and put it up.

  Charisma gawked down at all the money scattered around the floor and began to huff and puff yet again. She gazed at the diamond watch resting nicely on her wrist. It was damn near 6:00PM. Her palms began to itch and her eyes began to water as she thought about missing the trip to the mall that she had been anticipating and was ready to take the moment Trent had walked in with two oversized duffel bags filled with money, guns, and drugs.

  Trent sucked his teeth. Now I see what my cousin meant. These women are very ungrateful. A nigga go out and bust his ass damn near risking his life every day and she wants to sit around huffing and puffing and complaining about counting money that I make and she spends like it grows on trees. Counting the money and busting down the drugs was always frustrating to him, but if he wasn't complaining he sure as hell didn't want to see no one else complaining. By him not trusting no mother fucker besides himself and Charisma the two of them were left to do all the after work.

  Although Trig was his right hand man, he’d seen firsthand how Trig put niggas that he called “his boys” to rest over that almighty dollar and he’d be damned if he was going to let a trigger happy, money hungry nigga take what was his. No way in hell was he going to let that shit happen.

  “What’s your fucking problem?” Trent annoyingly questioned Charisma.

  “Nothing!” Charisma huffed. She began to sweat profusely and her palms were itching like hell. She had forced herself to keep from crying. A week ago Trent had promised her a shopping spree yet failed to mention one thing about it as they worked.

  Trent smiled on the inside as he watched Charisma’s actions. He had to admit that it was sad that she was about to burst out in a hissy fit any second. It was obvious that Charisma was a spoiled brat. He continued to fuck with her as he ignored her huffing and puffing. He got on the phone with Trig and began making plans. “Nah, I’m cool. I’m about to be on my way there now while Charisma handle some shit for me,” he bragged.

  Charisma’s eyes got big as basketballs. Her eyes had fire in them like lightning bolts. She was beyond vexed. She opened her mouth as if she was about to say something. But, knowing that she could have a slick mouth and say some hurtful things, she decided against it. One would never know how such awful things could come out of Charisma’s mouth.

  Trent got up and grabbed the keys to his car. “How much is there?” he questioned Charisma.

  She rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth before answering. “I only counted $94,000 so far.” Charisma got very quiet.

  The tension in the room was so damn thick that you could cut it would a knife.

  “So you’re going to act like that?” Trent asked with a smile. She rarely saw him frowning. Even when he was pissed or ready to kill he would still be smiling with his finger on the tri
gger.

  “Like what?” she asked.

  “Don’t fucking play with me, girl.” Trent kneeled down by Charisma and grabbed a handful of her hair. “Like you got a fucking attitude.”

  Charisma sucked her teeth and pouted her lips.

  “Your ass was ready to cry because you can’t get what you want,” he told her. “You over here having a fiend break out. Scratching your damn palms, sweating and shit. Are you alright?”

  “I was not about to cry. And yes babe, it’s that fucking serious. You know I have a fucking problem. I like to fucking shop,” she admitted.

  Trent shook his head at his girl. Charisma was one shopping motherfucker. She would shop until she literally passed out. Trent picked up a few stacks of the money from the floor that was bundled and wrapped in $10,000 labels. “Go fucking have a ball,” he said, passing Charisma five stacks of the money.

  Charisma nearly had a heart attack. She was always use to get $10,000 or less, but never as much as he had just given her. The money that Trent had just given Charisma didn’t nearly put a dent into his pocket. He had a sale with a white boy for three bricks of cocaine. He taxed the white boy $58,500 for each brick. When the rich white kid showed up with two of his boys. Trent and Trig robbed the boys for everything they had, including their jewelry.

  Once the white boys were freed, they took off running like a bat out of hell and had no plans on ever coming back to Philadelphia again. Retaliation wasn’t even thought upon. They all were just glad that they made it to see another day. The money…it meant nothing to them. Their parents were filthy rich and they’d seen a lot more money than they’d lost on that day.

  ~Chapter 6~

  Michelle was lying across her bed as she sucked down a fat blunt of Kush. The bitch had a set of lungs on her. She eyed the tip of the blunt and exhaled a big cloud of dark colored smoke with a foul odor that came from the funky weed. “Whew this is some good shit,” Michelle said laughing to herself. She grabbed one of the multi colored pillows from the sofa, placed it behind her head, and threw her head back onto it. She kicked her feet up on the coffee table and began hitting the Kush filled blunt a few more times.

  “I’m that bitch. Living the life. Getting money, I am not paying these niggas no mind. Uh huh. Yup, I’m that bitch,” Michelle rapped to herself. The lyrics were thrown together from many different songs that she favored.

  Life was finally starting to look just right for her. Weeks ago she had been introduced to the game, using what you got to get what you want, and things were just becoming all peachy for her. A relationship with Trig didn’t work out for her, not that she didn’t want it to. She would have loved to be taken care of by a made nigga. But Trig on the other hand was a little too much for her. One night he’d invited her over to stay the weekend with him. She caught the grey hound from York all the way to Philadelphia She wasn’t complaining because a trip with Trig always ended up with him purchasing her nice things and breaking her off with hella cash. She wasn't a hoe nor a prostitute, but she gave Trig what he wanted and in return he gave her what her little heart desired. It was a fair exchange. They were trying the relationship thing and this particular weekend was supposed had to been a romantic one, according to Trig. It was his way of showing her that he could really be the man she needed in her life and that he had a mushy side to him as well. He needed her to see that the thug demeanor wasn’t the only thing that he possessed.

  Their dinner was on point. It was at an expensive restaurant that Michelle couldn’t even pronounce the name of it. Had she paid attention in French class, she would have been able to pronounce the name of the restaurant and order her food without any problems.

  After the romantic dinner, Trig took Michelle for a ride around the city. The entire ride he held her hand and fingered her palm with his thumb. He sweet talked her and juiced her all up, just the way she liked. At the moment she was all about Trig. They pulled up to a four star hotel where Trig quickly rushed over to the passenger door and opened Michelle’s door. Upon entering the room Michelle was in complete awe. There were rose petals all over the floor and a trail that led to the bathroom. Trig grabbed a bottle of Moet that rested in a bucket of ice on top of the counter near the door. He open the champagne bottle and began drinking straight from it, trying to quickly get drunk.

  Michelle was all smiles. She followed the rose petals to the bedroom. “What the fuck is this shit?” Michelle cursed. She was totally pissed. Trig had completely fucked up her whole night. She was ready to rock his world and take him to heaven before bringing him back to earth all in one breath. He was about to have the best sex that he could ever have. Fucking around with her, he was ready to get turned out.

  Too bad Trig had the same plans for Michelle. He was ready to turn her ass out and put her down with some real fun. Michelle had to admit that the girl who was lying butt naked across the bed was awfully beautiful. She just wasn’t down with the whole messing with another girl thing. To top things off, she wasn’t ready to share Trig. His money wasn’t that fucking long for an extra chick.

  The girl patted an empty spot next to her. “Don’t be shy.” She slightly cracked a smile.

  Michelle shook her head and began rolling her neck. “Trig, take me home. Right-fucking-now!”

  Trig gawked at Michelle like she’d just lost her damn mind. He paid $400 for the naked bitch and he was going to enjoy her with or without Michelle. “What’s your fucking problem?” he asked, pulling Michelle to the side.

  “Nigga, don’t play. You are my fucking problem.”

  “You wanted to spice things up. You wanted to see a romantic side. Come on, Michelle. Don’t fucking play. You said you would try a threesome. So I’m giving you what you want. Don’t act like it ain’t enough of me to go around.”

  Michelle continued to roll her eyes at Trig. He could be so arrogant and cocky that it didn’t make any damn sense. Is it enough of your money to go around too, Michelle thought. She laughed at her own question. She felt like a sack of shit as she stared at the girl laying on the bed. Trig really shot an arrow through her ego. Here she was all chubby and out of shape with a pouch that had more hang time than she cared for while the girl laid across the bed looking flawless.

  “I'm out of here!” Michelle said with tears damn near running out of her eyes.

  “No the hell you ain't!” Trig said to Michelle, aggressively grabbing her by her arm.

  Michelle raised her hand and a slap landed dead across Trig’s face.

  He quickly yoked Michelle up by her throat. “Bitch, you ain't going anywhere Do you hear me?”

  Michelle was about to see a completely different side of Trig in a matter of seconds. She was about to see the real Trig.

  An hour later, Michelle was engaging in her first threesome. Or at least that's what Trig had thought. Turn her out? He must be out of his rabbit ass mind, Michelle thought. It was a little too late for Michelle to be turned out. She had been with so many guys that she had lost count four months after losing her virginity in the boy’s locker room when she was only 15 years old. She had done orgies, threesomes, and foursomes. Hell, you name it and she had probably done did it. Being an overweight chick left her with little to no confidence. But, she should have had a lot of confidence seeing as though she was very curvy and drop dead beautiful.

  She never knew what it was like to embrace her curves and be thankful for the cherubic face God had blessed her with. Instead she felt worthless and act out in such awful ways.

  The good girl act was just all a front. Anyone who knew Michelle knew better.

  Speak of the fucking devil, Michelle thought to herself, as he laid down the piece of blunt that was left in the ashtray and sent Trig’s call straight to the voice mail. Her phone began to vibrate indicating that Trig had left a message. She only tolerated Trig due to the fact that she was in a horrible finical situation. Without him she would be broke and out on the streets. Needless to say he was the one that provided her with financial
stability for the time being.

  Just as she was about to check to see what his annoying ass wanted, her phone began to ring. She smiled looking at her best friend’s picture flashing across the screen of her iPhone.

  “What’s up, bitch? What it do, what it is?” she asked in one breath, answering the phone.

  “Hello.” Charisma smiled on the other end. She was excited to speak with her friend. Michelle had moved to Philadelphia weeks ago and she had yet to see her or her new place.

  “Uh- huh. Don’t hello me. Your ass has been missing in action. You been in dick prison or some shit? The last time I talked to your dick whipped ass was when you called me from the emergency room. Like, are you okay? I didn’t know whether you were dead or alive. I didn’t know whether you choke on a dick or fell and burst your ass again.” Michelle laughed as she reminisced about the time her best friend had called her to say she was in the hospital. The story was just too damn hilarious.

  “Hahaha.” Charisma laughed, as she took a walk back down memory lane with Michelle. “Anyways. I’m not doing anything just in the mood for a little bit of shopping are you down?” Charisma asked.

  “Damn right I’m down! Lets meet at the mall in like a hour at the main entrance.” Michelle arranged.

  “See you in a hour.” Charisma smiled as she hung up the phone. She hasn’t seen her friend in what felt like ages, she couldn’t wait to see her girl. She slid off the bed and opened up her double wide closet door and began looking for something to wear.

  Michelle quickly began unwrapping her bands and applying make-up to her face, disobeying the doctor’s order. She didn’t give a damn. She was all fixed now and when the opportunity presented itself for her to show off she was ready. Two hours later she was strutting into the mall as if she owned the world and everyone surrounding her should drop to their knees and start worshiping the ground that she was walking on. She was in an incredible amount of pain, yet she didn't give a damn. In her eyes, beauty was pain....