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  Fuck him. It is over for us. He ain’t shit. I’m sitting up here pregnant and stressing over him and this baby. He’s the one who convinced me to keep this child, and his ass is cheating. I am too through. I don’t want shit from him. I’m gon’ drop off the money that I owe to his lawyers, fill up his commissary and be done.

  Zya was feeling so many different emotions, she thought she was going crazy. She was mad, sad, hurt, betrayed, confused . . . the whole nine. Her heart felt like it had a hole in it. She felt like she was dying. Why did he have to do this to me? I would have done anything for him.

  Zya dropped off $35,000 to Jules’s lawyers and put $500 in his prison commissary. I’m done with him. She felt so betrayed that she couldn’t stop crying. Her tears were endless as she made her way to her destination. She walked into the building and signed in with the receptionist.

  “Would you like counseling before making such a drastic decision?” the receptionist asked.

  Zya wiped her eyes and replied, “No, and I would like it done today.”

  She pulled out the $4,500 she had left and threw $500 on the counter. The receptionist picked up the money and handed her a clipboard. “Fill out these forms and we can get you started.”

  Zya took the forms to her seat, and the first question brought the tears back to her eyes.

  Have you ever had an abortion before? Yes or No.

  If Yes, how many?________

  Chapter 3

  Playing Wifey

  “The charges were not accepted,” the mechanical operator stated.

  Jules looked at the phone in disbelief. I’ve been calling her for the past two months. She ain’t been up here to see me, and now she’s not accepting my calls. Fuck is up? Jules thought. Jules hung up the phone and decided to dial the number again.

  “You are trying to place a collect call. Please say your name after the tone.”

  “Julius,” he said clearly into the phone. He waited impatiently as the phone company tried to connect his call.

  “The charges were not accepted,” the voice repeated. Jules slammed the phone over and over again before he put it back on the receiver.

  “Fuck!” he yelled loudly in an enraged fit. He hadn’t heard from Zya since he had first been arrested a couple months ago, and he was wondering where she was. His lawyer had informed him that Zya had delivered the payment for his case. She had also filled his commissary, but she hadn’t made any effort to come see him. Every time Jules tried to contact her, she didn’t accept his call, and all of the letters he had written went unanswered.

  Jules was confused. He didn’t know what to think. He was pissed off that he couldn’t get in contact with his own woman. He was curious as to how her pregnancy was going. He didn’t know if he should be upset with Zya or worried about her, because he didn’t know what was up. He had thought that she would ride or die with him, but her recent behavior had him questioning how thorough she really was. She had even moved into a new apartment without giving him the address or phone number. He had to have Amir look her new number up in the white pages just to track her down.

  I know she ain’t trying to leave a nigga stanking in prison, he thought as he became enraged at the idea of Zya trying to play him. I done spent too much money on that bitch for her to pull some shit like this. When I was on top, she was there helping me spend my money, but now that I’ve hit rock bottom, she’s trying to skip out on me. He couldn’t believe that Zya was trying to pull shady on him. It wasn’t in her character to do him dirty, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been played.

  He had been with Zya since she was 16, and had broke bread with her since the day he met her. Any time he made a move, she made one too. Their relationship was cool because she didn’t trip on him like other chicks tried to do. Zya understood the game. As long as he made her think he was out making money, she didn’t have a problem if she didn’t hear from him for a couple days.

  Jules sometimes abused her trust in him and crept out with other chicks, but Zya never suspected anything because her love for Jules ran deep. He knew that he had her head. Even if he did fuck with other chicks, he was positive that she had never stepped out on him with another nigga. Through all his bullshit and game, he actually did love Zya. She was a real chick, and he knew that she would always ride with him rather then against him. She was loyal. That’s one of the reasons he didn’t have a problem leaving his business in her hands. She wasn’t a dumb chick, and had been involved in his operation from jump. She would know what moves to make and when to make them. He was positive that she could hold his spot down until he got out. But now that he couldn’t reach her, he was spooked.

  The only thing I can do is wait. I don’t want to jump to any conclusions and accuse her of some shit she ain’t doing. She’ll come through . . . she always does. I just have to be patient. She’s carrying my baby, and she will do anything I ask her to. She’s proven her loyalty to me more than once. She’s probably just nervous and trying to lay low. If she was going to pull grimy, she wouldn’t have paid my lawyers or put cash in my account. Nah ... she’s good for it.

  Jules sat in his jail cell, trying to convince himself that Zya was still on his team. He tried to come up with the possible reasons she hadn’t been to see him. He knew he would have to be easy and wait for her to come to him. He just hoped that she did it soon.

  “You have a collect call from a New York State Penitentiary. Will you accept the charges?” the mechanical operator asked.

  “Hell no!” Zya yelled before slamming the phone down on the hook.

  I don’t even know why he’s still calling me. Don’t he get the picture? she thought as she looked around her tiny apartment. It wasn’t much, but it was hers, and that’s all that she could ask for at the moment. It had been eight weeks since she had found out about Jules’s lies, and she had been in and out of depression. The abortion had been hard on her because after she had calmed down, she instantly regretted what she had done. She had acted in the spur of the moment, and made her decision based on pure emotion. The guilt had plagued her every day since she had the procedure done.

  I didn’t want Jules in my life, but he still could have been a part of his child’s life. He doesn’t even know about the abortion. He doesn’t even know that I found out he was cheating. Zya knew that he deserved to know about the decision she had made because it affected him too. The only thing stopping her from telling him was the fact that she didn’t want to do it over the phone, and she refused to go see him. The love that she had for Jules had turned to hate the minute she had seen the pregnant girl waiting to see him in the jail. It had broken her heart, and she knew that she would never be able to forgive Jules for his betrayal.

  He had me thinking things were one way, when all along they were another. I was looking like a fool, falling for his game for three years, when all along he was using me. If he wanted to get money together, he could have just said that. The love affair wasn’t necessary. He came at me like he was my man ... like he was down for me. He told me that he loved me the way that I loved him. That was bullshit. He’s the one who was wrong. I don’t know why I’m sitting here second-guessing my decision. He didn’t hesitate to step out on me. Fuck him!

  Zya’s rage was strong, but deep down she knew that the only reason it hurt so bad was because she had loved him so much. She thought that it had been real, but now she was finding out that her feelings were unrequited.

  A part of her was even jealous of the girl that she found out about. She loved Jules so much, and for so long he had been her world. He had taken care of her, or rather always gave her a hustle to take care of herself. Here she was now, left on stuck, without any money and struggling to get her life back together.

  After paying the money Jules had requested for his lawyers and dropping money for the abortion, she only had $4,000 left. She didn’t even have a place to live after she walked out of the clinic. She scoured the New York Times looking for a cheap place for the time
being. When she finally found a guy who was trying to sub-let his apartment, she paid almost $2,400 just to move in.

  Her money was running low, and she didn’t have a job. She knew that she needed to snap out of her daze and find work, because the little bit of cash she did have left was disappearing fast. She couldn’t afford to be depressed. The only problem was, she didn’t know where to start. She didn’t even know how to make money if it wasn’t from hustling. She had never seen legit money. She always thought that it was too hard to make. She wasn’t the type to wait tables or work a 9 to 5. She was in love with the fast life, and only had experience earning fast money.

  The allure of the game called for her. She couldn’t help it. She was in love with quick flips. Jules had turned her out to easy money, and now that he was gone, she knew that depending on that easy money had been a mistake. She knew that she had to get back in the game. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to survive on her own. She knew that her staying locked and secluded in her apartment was not healthy for her. She thought that the fast-paced drug game would keep her so busy that she wouldn’t have time to think about the love she had lost or the horrible decision that she made when she gave up her child.

  I have to get back in the game. It keeps me sane. My only problem is that I’m not connected like Jules was. I don’t have anybody waiting to buy from me.

  She wondered if she could use Jules’s connections to establish herself in the game. She got up from her couch and ran to her closet to find the Doonie & Bourke bag that Smitty had given her. She dumped all of her possessions out of it as she searched for the letter that Jules had written her. I know it’s in here. Damn, I just had it! Her mind screamed as she frantically searched for the paper. Where is it? she thought as she moved from her purse to her kitchen table. She found it lying in the middle of the table, underneath the stack of bills that had accumulated in the name of Patrice Spoon.

  She had learned her lesson after Jules was arrested. She had been lucky that the police had not been looking for her. She could have easily been indicted under the RICO laws, just because the house was rented in her name. Nothing in her new home was in her name. She had made it a point to put everything under an alias, just in case anything popped off.

  Zya sat down in the middle of her bed and unfolded the letter that contained Smitty’s number. She picked up her cell phone, but before she could dial the number, her buzzer rang loudly throughout the house.

  She walked into the living room and hit the button on the intercom. “Who is it?”

  “It’s me. Let me up.”

  She recognized Vita’s voice and hit the release button to unlock the door. Zya folded the letter and put it in her purse. I’ll handle that later, she thought as she rushed to the door to meet her best friend.

  Vita walked in looking like a ghetto superstar. Her big Chloe glasses covered almost her entire face, and she had on a short jean skirt. The suede thigh-high boots she was rocking with it set her outfit off.

  “You doing all right? I ain’t heard from you in a couple days,” Vita said as she gave Zya a hug that made her feel ten times better. After Zya got the abortion, she told Vita everything about Jules and her pregnancy. Vita was a good friend and was there for Zya. She came over almost every day to make sure that she got through.

  “Yeah, I’m good. I’m just thinking, really, trying to get things back in order.”

  “That’s good. It seems like you’re doing way better. I was getting worried about you for a minute there,” Vita said in a light tone.

  Zya could tell that her friend had been worried about her. Vita wasn’t exactly the mushy type, but after Zya confessed everything that she had been going through, Vita made it a point to be there for her friend. She listened to her vent all night if she had to. She knew that Zya had a lot to get off her chest, and sometimes she would stay for days just to let Zya know that she had people in her corner who loved her.

  “I’m not a hundred percent stress-free, but I’m better. Thank you for getting me through this, Vita. I probably would have been sick without you,” Zya said as she cracked a smile.

  “Girl, whatever . . . You already know how we do. If it was me, I would have wanted you to have my back. There ain’t no thanks necessary. I’ve known your ass since the seventh grade. You are my sister.” Vita wrapped her arms around Zya’s shoulders, and they both dropped a couple tears. They had their ups and downs, but always remained close. Vita was her sister, and Zya loved her as if they had been born and raised under the same roof.

  “Shit, you fucked up my makeup,” Vita said, trying to lighten the mood. Zya laughed loudly.

  Vita’s cell phone rang, and she sighed as she looked at the caller ID.

  “Hello?” she answered.

  “Hey, baby. I need you to cook up something for me. I’ll be home in about half an hour. Meet me there, all right?” Heavy said.

  “I’m at Zya’s crib. I can’t right now. We probably finna go get something to eat,” she told him. She really enjoyed spending time with Zya, and Zya needed her more than Heavy did at the moment.

  “I thought I told you about being over there all the time. Fuck you be doing that’s so important? Why you got to be over there twenty-four/seven?” he fussed into the phone.

  “Cuz she my girl. Why you tripping? Since when do you have a problem with Zya?” Vita rolled her eyes and put her finger up for Zya to hold on.

  Zya knew that it was Heavy on the other end. She hated his fake ass ever since he had roughed her up. She didn’t know how far he had planned on going that night. She thought that he was going to rape her.

  “Don’t nobody got no problems with that ho. Just be home when I get there!” With that, he hung up the phone.

  Vita sighed and snapped her cell phone closed. She looked at Zya with apologetic eyes and said, “Zy, I got to dip. My boo is tripping.”

  Zya already knew why Heavy didn’t want Vita around her. He was too afraid that she would tell Vita about what he had tried to do. Zya was already hip to Heavy’s game. He controlled everything that Vita did, and he was, slowly but surely, trying to cut Zya out of the picture. Zya’s and Vita’s friendship was strong, though, and she knew that Vita wasn’t having it.

  “All right, girl. Holla at me later.” She hugged Vita then walked her to the door.

  “You gon’ be all right?” Vita asked.

  “Yeah . . . yeah, I’m good.”

  Vita looked skeptically but then smiled. “All right, girl. Call me if you need anything,” she said.

  Zya closed the door and locked it. Vita’s visit actually made her feel a whole lot better. She walked into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. She looked tired, and the energetic light that had once dawned on her face had disappeared. She had on a dingy white T-shirt with holes in it, and her hair was a mess. The stress had really taken its toll on her. She was used to always being on point. Even when she was just sitting around the house, she made sure she looked good.

  I can’t afford to look good for nothing anymore. She continued to stare at her reflection, but became disgusted at what she saw. I need to get myself together. I can’t just sit around here broke, waiting for some nigga to rescue me. I need to get on my grind ... even if I have to work a regular job. I can’t just sit around here and do nothing. I’m gon’ lose my mind if I sit in this house another day. All I do is think about Jules and what could have been our family. I can’t do this to myself anymore. I need to work to get my mind off of everything else.

  The next day, Zya woke up and went looking for jobs. She hated the fact that she had to look for regular work, but she figured that it was better than doing nothing. She got up early and put in applications all over the city, from little eateries to clothing stores. She was willing to work anyplace that was trying to pay her. Her paychecks would be a serious downsize from what she was used to making when she made runs for Jules, but she couldn’t be choosy. She needed some money, and a small income was better than no income at all
.

  It was harder to find a job than she had anticipated. Almost every place she went asked her if she had any prior experience, but she had none.

  Zya decided to take a break and called Vita to meet her for lunch. Zya’s feet were killing her, so she ducked into the closest restaurant she could find. She ended up in a nice Italian spot on West 46th Street. It was the middle of the day, but the place was dimly lit. It was a decent establishment that had a casual Italian atmosphere. Zya felt out of place, though, because she was the only black person in the entire place, and all eyes seemed to be glued on her. Zya was seated at a cozy table for two, where she waited for Vita to arrive. Her friend walked in fifteen minutes later, out of breath and looking ghetto fabulous as always.

  “Hey, girl, what’s up?” she said as she placed her purse on the table and sat down across from Zya.

  “Job hunting. I’ve been out here all day, looking for a job. It seems like nobody will give me a break,” Zya said as the waitress approached their table. The woman wore a short black skirt with a tight-fitting white top. She had a mini apron tied around her waist, and was popping gum as she waited for them to pause their conversation so she could take their order.

  “Hey, ladies. How are you two gorgeous girls doing today?” she said in a sort of whiny way. Her voice was loud and irritating, but she was nice. She looked to be in her thirties.

  “Good. How are you?” Zya replied.

  “Oh, I’m doing good,” she began.

  “Marcella, come over here!” a voice boomed from the back of the restaurant. Zya turned around and saw a round Italian guy motion for the waitress.

  The waitress stopped and put her hand on her hip and yelled back, “Vinnie, come on! Don’t you see me taking these nice young ladies’ orders? Hold on a minute. You know you are my favorite customer. I won’t leave you waiting long.” The man and his table guests laughed, and he nodded his head and blew her a kiss. Zya laughed lightly.