“Emani,” Janet called, alerting everyone else that the cash cow had returned. “We weren’t expecting you. Thought you’d still be on campus shaking your ass or whatever it is that you do.”
Emani chuckled. “Whatever it is that I do. Joanna, how’s Malachi feeling?”
Joanna stammered as she stood from the couch. “B-better. I tried calling you.”
“Turned my phone off. My fiancé wanted to fight instead of enjoying what was it? Your yearly family vacation?”
“Emani, don’t start that insecure bullshit,” Malik started, trying to gaslight and deflect her.
“I’m not talking to you, nigga,” Emani stated, not even giving Malik the satisfaction of her eyes.
“You need to watch your mouth talking to your husband like that,” Janet spoke, making Emani laugh. “I invited Joanna, she’s been worked like a dog by you and needed a break.”
“Uh uh, not too fast,” Emani said with a wink. “I’ll get to you in a minute.”
Considering that Emani was now hip to the game, the people she’d chosen to surround herself with were playing, the calmness would only be met by a rage they hadn’t experienced. Janet huffed and pulled the casserole dish on top of the oven.
“Malik, you need to get control of your fiancée. Now.”
While Emani had plans on only beating Joanna and Sandi’s asses, Malik entered the fight when he yanked her up. An open palm across his face then a punch and a kick. He must’ve thought it was a joke when Emani told him she’d fought for everything she had. She specifically recalled him chuckling when she told him ‘I’m never above whipping your ass, nigga’. Now she was whipping his ass and his mother and Joanna were trying to get her off of him.
“I told your ass not to play with me and to never grab me like that? Didn’t I?” Emani questioned, repeatedly punching him in the face. Malik, feeling his manhood slip, punched Emani in the face in efforts to get her off of him. She stammered back slightly and smiled with venom. Whatever shred of respect she held for him was gone. “Would you like to know how many times I came this week? Hm. How, for the first time in years, my pussy creamed for him? What you want, Malik? Me to kiss you so you can taste his dick? You want to hit me again? Come on, nigga! So I can tell you how I put this sweet little pussy on his face and rode the muhfucka over and over and over again. Since you can gaslight me and make me feel fuckin’ small while keepin’ a family on the side too?”
“You’re a fuckin’ hoe ass bitch,” Malik spat back. His pride hurt knowing that in her walk alone, there was nothing he could do to get her to deny herself again. “My momma told me you would do this!”
“Ain’t no fun when the rabbit got the gun is it, nigga? You’re a three stroke ass, mediocre dick having ass nigga. Still on the titty ass bitch. Putting your hands on me. Don’t you know I’ll call the set and have them fuck your bitch ass up? Stupid.”
“I’m calling the cops,” Janet stated.
“Call them,” Emani directed and proceeded to swipe the casserole dish to the polished floor, sending the contents into a shattered stemming mess.
“Girl, have you lost your entire damn mind?” Janet screeched.
“Fuckin’ crazy, old ass hoe,” Emani shot back. “Going along with this shit is sick. Got me taking care of a godson that my fiancé shot out into my best friend.” Sandi and Joanna stood by, confused at Emani’s actions. Malik jumped to his mother’s defense.
“You need to get your hoe ass out of my fucking house!” Malik bellowed at her, reaching out to grab her and being met by Emani launching a stack of plates at him. He winced, “bitch.”
“Ya’ momma, hoe. I’m not going nowhere. Make me, bitch.” Emani shot back, moving to Joanna who was attempting to cower behind her sister. Like a linebacker, Emani shoved Sandi out the way. “Move, bitch.”
“Malik, do something!” Janet screeched, realizing there was no one in the house who was a match for Emani and her anger.
Malik stood, realizing any further assault to Emani would result in his head being smashed just like the casserole left in her wake.
“That’s the nigga you want?” Emani questioned, grabbing Joanna by the hair. “One who doesn’t even pay for his own son’s therapy. Can’t even fight for you. He’s going to stand there like a pussy ass bitch and watch me whoop your ass.”
“Emani! Please! That’s not how it happened!” Joanna shouted in defense.
There was one thing everyone knew about Emani when she rapped, ‘I never ask no questions. Beat the hoe, make ‘er count ‘er blessings. Fist to the nose while you at my mercy, confession. Pretty bitch but I’m steady handing out lessons’, she wasn’t lying. She was a product of Los Oceania. To be from the city next to the ocean, you had to have fight to survive.
Sandi attempted to jump in and help her sister but no one was a match against Emani. Malik knew better than to put his hands on her again. But Janet was a cop caller. She’d called the cops on Malik’s father after an argument, sending him to prison. She even called the cops on Joanna’s brother when Emani and Malik first started dating because he didn’t look like he belonged in the neighborhood. It was a shame how some skinfolks were thrusted into a higher way of life and forgot where they came from.
Emani was putting in work, effortlessly knocking her best friend and her sister between every nook and cranny of the open living space. It was the immediate action to disrespect. The pain of treason would follow, later. Not now, because the cops were on the scene like Emani was a member of the mafia and not a heartbroken woman standing in a pit of vipers.
“I’m sorry, E,” Joanna cried, holding her hands up, the tennis bracelet gleaming. Everything came back to the front of her mind. Joanna had been parading everything but Malik taking care of his seed in her face. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m pregnant. Please.”
Emani pulled in a sharp inhale and flashed her a deadly look before turning to look at Malik. She didn’t care about Janet skirting to the door to let the cops in. She bounced her eyes between both of them. “So I’ve been nothing but a come up? Okay.”
The finality in the statement was soft. The cops rushed in and Emani was already prepped to be cuffed. Sandi, battered and bruised, along with Janet, helped her sister to her feet. Joanna sobbed as she continued to mutter how sorry she was. The cold cuffs were clasped around Emani’s wrists tightly.
