Chapter 1
Juniper Weaver
March 2020
"Juni, can you do me a solid and do my x-ray for this next patient?” my co-worker, Jamie, asked me, knowing damn well I was supposed to be going on my lunch break. “Girl, not today.” I hated to be that person, but Jamie was the type to ask for a favor and never be willing to return it. I looked down at my buzzing phone that had been ringing every ten minutes. My mom blowing me up only meant one thing: my parents were fighting again.
“Pleaseee. I ain’t tryna lose my job. I know if I go in there, I’m going to have to fight that fake titty having ass bitch ‘cause I fucked her nigga a few months back. I know that’s why that ignorant ho came here. How many other doctors offices are in the Beaumont area?” Jamie asked with a straight face like what she was saying was valid and not delusional.
We worked for two brothers, Angel and Angelo. They owned this and another private practice orthopedic office across town.Jamie and I were both x-ray technicians. I wasn’t tryna say I was a better worker than Jamie, but if the shoe fit. If it wasn’t for her fuckin’ on one of our bosses’sons to keep her job, I doubted she’d still work here. I minded my business though. As long as they deposited my check every week, I didn’t give a flying fuck what anyone else had going on.
“Ramerio ain’t gon’ fire you,” I said with my lips pressed together and my hands tucked in the front pockets of my blue scrub shirt. Ramerio was the office manager, and he was also Angel’s oldest son.
“He mad at me right now. He caught me fucking with this other nigga. Now he call himself not fucking with me. Any little thing I do, he gon’ be tryna fire me.” Jamie smacked her lips at me, losing her patience.
“No, girl, I’m hungry, and I haven’t ate all day.” I shook my head, waving her off, hoping she would get the picture.
“Man, Juniper… just do me this one favor, and I’ll cover your shift for the rest of the day,” Jamie begged with her hands folded in front of her.
Getting off early sounded real good. I had so much shit I needed to take care of, and I could stop by my parents’ house and see what their issue was today. I loved my parents dearly, but they were two people who didn’t need to be together. Ever since I was a little girl, all they did was drink, fuck, and fight with each other. They’d be good for maybe two, three days, then they’d be at it again trying to drag me into their chaos. One too many drinks would lead them down the same rabbit hole knowing they weren’t leaving each other. The one time I tried to tell my mama to leave my daddy, they both turned on me so fast. Somehow, I turned into the problem. I was the reason they were fighting, and I caused whatever the issue was. After that, I kept my opinions to myself and tried to mediate the situation until they both calmed down. Most times, one of my parents would comestay the night at my house until the next day when they both were sober. I preferred for my mom to come. Lately, my dad had been saying little weird shit that wasn’t sitting right with me.
Growing up, I wasn’t particularly close with either one of my parents. If you asked me, they loved the bottle and each other more than they loved me. They did what they had to do to keep me alive until I turned eighteen. Hell, more like sixteen, because once I was old enough to work, they stopped providing me with anything other than food. Clothes, shoes, hair, etc… Anything that they didn’t deem a necessity, I had to get on my own. My first job was at a fast food restaurant, and I hadn’t stopped working since. Thankfully, my parents weren’t the type to take my money. I guess that was a positive. Aside from the constant fighting, my childhood was bland. I lost my virginity on prom night to my then boyfriend, Troy. He was my first and last love. For a while, he was my backbone. The one I thought I’d spend my life with. When I graduated high school, neither one of my parents even bothered to show up to my high school graduation. Troy was the only one to cheer for me when I walked across the stage.
I really thought Troy was going to be the one for me. He was supposed to be my knight in shining armor. The problem with us was, the older we got, the more we reminded me of my parents. We fought and fucked so much we didn’t have time to actually enjoy each other. Not that we really ever could have because Troy wanted to be single more than he wanted to be with me. I tried to overlook a lot of the shit he did because we were young. Besides his friendly ways, he was the only person I felt I had in my corner. Back then, I didn’t know how I would survive without Troy in my life, not realizing I had been doing everything on my own anyways. Once I hit twenty-five, it was like I woke up and understood the obvious couldn’t be ignored anymore. I called it quits, and shockingly, Troy was on the same page as me. At leastthat was what I thought in my ignorance. Turned out, the nigga moved on already, but the kicker was it was someone close to me.
Four years later, Troy was married now with a family–three kids to be exact–with a stanking ass bitch, Tamika. I couldn't believe I used to call her my sister. The betrayal hurt because the two people I thought had my back really didn’t. I could have cared less about Troy; he wasn’t worth a damn–it was the principle. My entire situation with Troy was exhausting, to the point I hadn’t been in a relationship since. No, I wasn’t hung up on Troy. I just didn’t want to put the time and energy into being in a relationship. After all the shit that nigga put me through, I couldn’t see myself trusting nan-other-nigga. Don’t get me wrong, I had my niggas I fucked over the years, but for the most part, I kept to myself. It was the same with friends; I had associates I chilled with occasionally, but as far as being friendly with bitches, I learned my lesson on trusting hos.
“As soon as this x-ray is over, I’m leaving. Ion wanna hear shit,” I let Jamie know in a stern voice.
“All that,” Jamie excitedly replied, clapping her hands together. She called herself trying to hug me but I stepped back letting her know it wasn’t that type of party with us. I barely liked talking to her, a hug was a hell no when it came from her.
“Hold on,” I said, looking her up and down. “Who are these people I’m finna be dealing with?” Jamie wasn’t about to have me in no bullshit because she had a friendly pussy.
“You probably don’t know them, but Faheem and his girl, Mixie. Faheem’s big dick, fine ass got that kryptonite dick. I had to get a sample, and if he’d let me, I would bounce on that shit again,” Jamie said gleefully, when her nasty ass should have been ashamed. She was the type of female that would fuck any nigga with money even if he didn’t give her ass none.
“Ain’t no dick worth fighting no bitch over,” I said, pressing my lips together. I might have fought my nigga, but I would never fight no other bitch over him. That had never been my thing. I’d leave it to bird brain bitches like Jamie.
“Chileee, that’s ‘cause you ain’t never had a nigga like Faheem before. Mixie holding onto that nigga for dear life. But it’s cool. I’ma work my magic, and he gon’ leave that ho high and dry,” Jamie confidently replied.
“Whatever.” I waved Jamie off, taking the folder out of her hand.
Walking around Jamie, I quickly looked over the file. This nigga Faheem had broken his left hand, and the doctor wanted to see exactly where it was broken. Jamie was stupid because this was going to be quick. Hand x-rays took like ten minutes, if that. Making my way out into the waiting room, I looked around at the few patients sitting and waiting for their names to be called.
“Faheem Banks,” I called out, holding the door open that led to the back of the offices. The first person I laid eyes on was definitely not Faheem Banks.
It was the woman walking towards me with a frown on her face. She had a cinnamon brown skin complexion, with titties that looked like they were about to pop. She had the typical video vixen look to her–big booty, big titties, big lips, bust down that almost touched the floor. Her clothes were too tight. Not only were they too tight, she had the nerve to not match. Somebody needed to help sis coordinate her clothes because she was dressed like she got dressed in the dark. The orange mini skirt, blue shirt, and green jacket weren’t hitting like she thought. Her face was frowned up looking like she smelled shit while she eyed me from head to toe like she knew me.
The nigga with her was a tall, lanky nigga with his hand in a brace. This couldn’t be the nigga Jamie said had a big dick.He was too fucking skinny. He put you in the mind of a finer Wiz Khalifa down to the wild, frizzy dread locs. I usually didn’t care for my niggas to have facial piercings, but the nose ring Faheem had in gave him more sex appeal. Nor did I care for face tattoos; however, the crown of thorns on his forehead added to his edge. Faheem’s black eyes were naturally squinted, giving the impression that he’d been smoking. His arms were heavily tattooed, to the point there wasn’t any clear skin left on his body. Even his hands were covered. I could see tattoos on his neck that went down to his chest but were covered by his white shirt. I wouldn’t be shocked if the rest of his body wasn’t covered with tattoos as well. A thick gold chain hung from his neck, a diamond stud pierced his left nostril, and a blinged out watch on his wrist. His black jeans hung slightly off his ass that made it seem pointless that he was wearing a brown Gucci belt.
“Eyes on me,” Mixie said, frowning at me as her and Faheem stood in front of me. Mixie continued looking me up and down as if she was supposed to be scaring somebody.
“Anyways, Faheem Banks, you can follow me this way, and we can get this x-ray over with.” I gave Mixie the same dirty look she gave me before directing my attention to Faheem. The nigga was fine, but he wasn’t that damn fine to be going crazy over. Females that acted like their niggas couldn’t have any contact with other females got on my damn nerves.
I took a deep breath to keep my composure, Mixie was the type of female that made you lose your job with her stanking attitude, thinking somebody wanted her nigga. I heard Faheem and Mixie’s footsteps behind me as I led them to the x-ray room. Stopping short, I whipped around. “You can wait here. Only the patient is allowed in the exam room,” I told Mixie in a nice, nasty tone. Had she been a little nicer, I might have allowed her to wait in his exam room while I did his x-ray. She could wait in the waiting room.
“Nah, bi-” Mixie went to walk up on me, but Faheem pushed her back with his free arm.
“Chill the fuck out, and sit yo’ ass down. The way my mutha fcukin’ hand hurtin’ right now, I’m not in the mood for yo’ shit. On my mama.” Faheem checked Mixie, calming her down instantly.
