By: Ebrahim Aseem
Author of the book, “Why Men Cheat on Loyal Women”
“This thing between you & me…it’s over!” India yelled to her twin sister Rosaria. “First you gave my cheating ass ex herpes, then you threatened to tell my new bae I’m pregnant, & now you let this big, white fluffy dog track mud all over my french decor…”
“Over? It’s Over? Is your Black Thor gonna save the day, guns ‘a blazin’ then just ride off with you into the sunset?” Rosaria sassed after laughing.
“How’d you know bae has guns?” India asked.
“Chile please, I background check every new guy you date,” Rosaria laughed.
“Well you’re right,” India replied. “He does have guns and as soon as he pulls that trigger, this thing between us is finally over. It ends tonight!”
~
Anthony kicked the iphone out of her hand, aimed his gun at her & pulled the trigger.
~ 24 hours earlier ~
Anthony grabbed India’s phone & starred at the picture on the screen.
“You want me to kill you?” he asked, with a confused look.
“What?” India asked, snatching her iphone back so she could see what he was looking at. “No, that’s not me silly, that’s a picture of Rosaria after our 5th grade graduation. Babe, my twin sister has this thing over me. She feels like she forever owes saving me, as payback for something I did for her in our past.”
“So… you want me to kill your twin sister?” he asked.
“No!” she assured him before exhaling a long sigh. “I want you to kill my brother.”
~
Rosaria stared at her phone ringing, with her left ring finger hovering over the ‘Sleep/Wake button’ button. Against her better judgement, she took a huge deep breath & slid her thumb to the right & answered her best friend Havana’s call.
“Hey love,” Rosaria greeted. “How are you?”
“Girl, I’m really going through it right now to be honest,” Havana admitted, in her medium-high-pitched voice “do you have time to chat?”
“Sure sweetie,” Rosaria replied, rolling her eyes as her brain disagreed with her mouth, “what’s the matter?”
“I just don’t get it,” Havana complained, somberly.
“I have a master’s degree, six-figure job, no kids & yet my boyfriend of 18 months continues to insist on living with his second baby mama, with whom he has two boys & a beautiful newborn baby girl. This living situation makes it hard for me to commute home, because after I drive to work each morning & give him my car, he has to finish watching First Take on ESPN, complete four competitive games on NBA2k online play, cook pop tars for a snack, snap a few pics of him & his newborn for the gram, then pick his children up from school, leaving me to carpool home with my neighbor. I can’t afford to buy him a car of his own until this fall, because I ran through my saving account helping him pay for their house I co-signed for him after he was released on parole for larceny. I would like to ask this man to marry me & help him file for custody of his children. What cut of diamond is the most manly? Also, how much is a reasonable amount to spend on an engagement ring?”
“The fuck?” Rosaria replied in disbelief, “why are you worried about the price of a diamond when you’re over there selling your soul to a weak male for the price of a dog?”
“You think I’m selling my soul just for letting my future fiancé use my car?” Havana defended, clueless to Rosaria’s misgivings. “Because most of the women at my job do that. Hell, the only cars in the employe parking lot belong to upper management.”
“Forget about your whack ass Prius!” Rosaria replied before somewhat regaining her composure, “You are not about to propose to this man Havana. Respectable women don’t propose to men. And no real man would say yes to that shit.”
“Ria, you know I’m not into that old-fashioned gender-role shit the way you are,” Havana snapped. “It’s 2015. When you find a good man, you have to claim him, before a curvier girl comes along & tames him.”
“Good man?” Rosaria laughed. “That ain’t no good man, honey.
A good man does not continue to sleep with or around his ex or the mother of his children, when he is in a relationship with you.
A good man does not continue to text his EX on the low, because he is too busy reassuring his current woman she is his crush, his motivation, his peace, his everything.
A good man does not ride with you to work in a car you bought & paid for by yourself, then drive off with it to go back to a house you bought, sit on a couch you picked out & eat food you paid for.
A good man does not spend countless hours playing NBA2k, Madden or Call of Duty, because he’s too busy playing with his woman’s joystick, being romantically aggressive with her frame, to the point she screams his name.
A good man has his own. A good man does not live off of a woman’s work. A good man is a provider, a leader, a pillar of stability, a source of spiritual discernment.
A good man doesn’t talk over you & tell you to shut up when you are expressing your thoughts. A good man listens with his lips closed, heart open, holding your attention with his eyes, while shouldering your burdens with his deep concern.
A good man never makes you feel like you are such a problem, too difficult, too flawed, too guarded, too broken.
A good man never tells his woman ‘ damn, you always have something to say’. A good man listens, strips his woman of her doubts & apprehensions, so her fears never get in her way.
A good man doesn’t seek validation from his boys & only respect women when other men can’t see, because a good man knows his knowledge defines him, his confidence secures him, & his actions paint the picture of the man he’s growing to be.
You don’t need to strip his children’s mother of custody if you want to become a parent, you already are one. If you are an independent woman, with your own money, own house, & you’re letting a lame, career-less male live in it rent free, using your wifi, using your tv while you’re at work to play video games, eating up all your chocolate bars, using up all your feminine deodorant, you don’t have a man, you have a boy, you’re a single mother.”
~
Anthony drove India to the yoga spa, an hour after their initial appointment. After persuasively convincing the concierge to let them in, the two love birds went in separate locker rooms to change clothes for their chakra yoga date.
~
Cynthia’s eyes opened wide, anticipating what she was about to witness. Her husband Morland had just grabbed his big, white fluffy Samoyed with his right hand & ripped off his pants-belt with his left hand, causing his pants to drop down to his ankles.
Morland looped the belt inside the buckle, until it formed a noose, then proceeded to wrap the belt around his dog’s head.
Fluffy fought back with all his might & bit his owner on the wrist.
“Ahhhhhhh!” Morland screamed, like a female dog in heat, dropping to his knees.
Suddenly, the screen door connecting the backyard to the kitchen slide open. There stood three Black men, dressed in grey hoodies & baggy navy jeans, each holding .44 magnum revolvers.
~
During their yoga date, India was able to relax & release tension built up from the fight with her twin sister. Anthony was able to see India’s amazing, fit-thick body in yoga pants.
~
“Step away from the female,” one of the hooded men demanded.
Morland made a move to step away from his wife, Cynthia.
“Aye!” the hooded man yelled. “Stay yo’ nerdy ass on the ground.
“But you told me to step away,” Morland defended. “How can one take a step while still on the ground?
“Crawl bitch,” one of the other hooded men responded.
Morland shook his head & begin to crawl away from his wife.
“Yeah that’s it,” the first hooded man encouraged, “scooch yo’ punk ass away from her. Yo’ old, shit-stained tighty-whitie wearing ass can’t handle a fine MILF like that anyway.”
After Morland ‘scooched’ his punk ass away from Cynthia, she stood up walked over to the hooded man & kissed him on the lips.
Fluffy growled.
Morland gasped in disbelief.
The hooded man laughed.
“You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife,” the hooded man teased, quoting Tupac’s ‘Hit ‘Em Up’ “That’s why I fucked yo’ bish you fat mutha…”
‘C’mon man, let’s hurr up & get out of here,” the third hooded man suggested, “they probably got closed-circuit cameras & shit. Up in here living like the Kardashians. We should hit a lick.
“Home invasion, was persuasive,” the first hooded man rapped, in Kendrick-Lamar-voice, grabbing Cynthia by the waist. “Nah, I already coped what I wanted anyway.”
The three hooded men walked out of the house with Cynthia. Fluffy followed behind. Morland lay on the floor, with his pants still around his ankles, having just soiled his white briefs in fear.
~
After showering off & changing back into their clothes, Anthony took India to a fresh seafood restaurant on the Fisherman’s Wharf boardwalk strip. She ordered lobster tails, he ordered surf & turf.
~
The three hooded men took Cynthia & Fluffy back to their trap house. The four of them smoked loud & watched The Walking Dead on Netflix. After 17 zoombie had been killed, the first hooded man received a twitter notification, with the hashtag ‘got purp’. He pushed Cynthia’s drunk body off his lap, grabbed his keys, hopped in his car & drove off.
~
After taking India for a long walk & deep conversation after dinner, Anthony drove India to the Marriott & booked her a room with his black card. After the receptionist handed him two key cards, he handed one to India & they walked to the elevator & navigated to the top floor.
“I want you to stay here until it’s done,” Anthony instructed India once they got inside her suite. “Don’t text or call me once I leave. When it’s done, I will come back here & we will go to sleep, understand?”
“Yes,” India responded, hugging him. “You’re not going to ask me any questions or anything? I mean, you don’t want to know why I want you to do this?”
“This is what I do,” Anthony answered. “I neutralize situations. I solve problems. I don’t need to know what they are, or why I am solving them. All I need to know is a name. A real, legal name, & I handle the rest. You have your reasons, just like everyone does. But I don’t need to know them. I don’t need to question you. I love you. I knew that the moment I first saw you & approached you at Starbucks. You need a gun? Well I AM your gun. That’s all I need to know.
Anthony kissed Inida goodbye, grabbed his car keys & walked out of the suite.
~
“It’s about damn time!” Rosaria complained, after opening her apartment door. “You must be the most popular weed man in San Francisco.”
“CP time mami, you know how we do,” the hooded man replied, walking into Rosaria’s house.
“Yeah whatever,” Rosaria replied, smacking her teeth. “Um excuse you, but who said you could bring your dog in my apartment.
“I ain’t got no leash,” the first hooded man complained, “look I need to take a dump real quick, where’s the rest room?”
‘Where’s my trees?” Rosaria smacked. “No dank dank, no stank stank.
He handed her the weed & she handed him a twenty-dollar bill. He shoved the money in his hoodie pouch & made his way to the rest room.
~
Anthony sat outside & cased the building for an hour before he decided to go in. He found India’s brother’s address using a jail broken, encrypted laptop, by typing the name & date of birth in the federal database.
He put on his black gloves, put on a black ski mask, loaded his Beretta & entered the building through a service door, by picking the lock.
~
“Nooooooo! Oh emm geeeeee!” Rosaria complained, as Fluffy broke a vase, causing the pink tulips Anthony bought India to spill all over the couch. “Dog, you’re a pretty thing, but you have absolutely no home training. Who raised you?”
She started to clean up the mess, when she heard her front door unlock. It was India.
“What happened to your hair?” Rosaria asked her sister after she came in & locked the door. “Did you sleep with him?
“Don’t try & act all sisterly towards me now, when we were fighting just a couple of hours ago!’ India snapped, with her arms folded.
“Please, that was nothing, we fight all the time,” Rosaria fanned, cleaning up the mess Fluffy made.
“You embarrassed me in front of bae!” India complained, pinching her twin on the arm.
“Ouch!” Rosaria complained. “Why are you so violent tonight? You would think the back-breaking your bae gave you would calm your nerves.”
“I did not have sex with him!” India quickly responded. “I’m not about to give bae herpes, the way you gave it to my ex. How could you sleep behind your own sister, your own flesh & blood. And to lose your virginity in the process? That’s just sick.”
“After all these years, you obviously still don’t know me,” Rosaria said, fighting off tears before standing up & holding her sister’s hand. “I did this for you. Everything I do, I do it for you. He got you pregnant without a ring, he cheated on you with some cyber-hoe half way across the country, so yes, I gave J.R. herpes. But I didn’t sleep with him.
J.R. is an idiot. He never could tell the two of us apart. So, I took advantage of that. Once you told me you stopped spending the night over his house, I went over there pretending to be you & he let me right in. I told him, ‘babe, can we make love just one more time?’ you know how you sound, always calling it ‘making love’ even though you know damn well that bitch ass nigga never loved you.
Well he excepted, so I told him I had a fantasy. I told him I wanted to do what you always refused to do with him.”
“You didn’t?” India said, after gasping.
“I did,” Rosaria continued. “Threesome, or as his illiterate ass called it, ‘ménage à trey’ damn imbecile. You couldn’t make a baby with a half decent man with an education? You just had to give a strictly-ebonic-speaking lame some pussy, didn’t you? My little niece and, or nephew better not come out stupid like they daddy.”
“Oh for the love of Beyonce, I am not pregnant!” India screamed. “That positive pregnancy test didn’t belong to me, it belonged to Havana. She’s pregnant and she begged me not to tell you, so let’s just keep it between us & you can finished the story.”
“Havana is pregnant?” Rosaria asked, starring at her sister like she had just seen a ghost. “That means that…oh my lord.”
Rosaria patted down her pants pockets searching for her phone.
“What’s wrong?” India asked.
“I never had sex with J.R.” Rosaria explained, “I only orchestrated the threesome, held her hair while she have him head, then left the room while they had sex.”
“While who gave him head?” India asked.
“Havana,” Rosaria admitted.
~
Anthony busted through the front door of India’s brother’s loft, & searched the apartment. He searched the kitchen. He searched the living room. He searched the bathroom. Finally, he peeled open the bedroom door to search it, & to his surprise, he saw a woman, lying in bed, on her laptop, listening to music on her headphones.
Anthony pulled out his gun & flipped on the light switch to get her attention.
~
“You got Havana to have sex with J.R.?!” India yelled.
“I did it for you!” Rosaria explained.
“How the hell is letting your best friend sleep with my ex for me?” India corrected.
“I was avenging your baby-momma’d-ness,” Rosaria defended. “and besides, Havana is the only woman I know who has genital herpes.
~
“Make a move without me telling you to & I will blow your pretty little head off,” Anthony warned the woman sleeping in India’s brother’s bed.”
The woman shook in fear, still holding the laptop in her lap.
Anthony slid the laptop off her lap, pulled back the covers & drug the woman to the floor.
“Call him,” Anthony demanded, after handing the woman her iphone that was on the dresser. “Call your boyfriend & tell him it’s an emergency, & you need him to come home ASAP.
The woman put the phone to her ear & slowly pressed the ‘9’.
“Whack!” was the sound Anthony made as he pistol whipped the woman.
“Just for trying to call the police, after you call your boyfriend, I’m going to make you take a razor to your scalp & shave all those long curls off.”
“I ain’t shaving shit off,” the woman said in a deep voice.
“Great Amiyah Scott, it’s you,” Anthony said once he realized what was going on. “You’re India’s brother.
“I’m a woman,” the wo/man (?) replied.
“Oh, sure you’re a woman, now,” Anthony said, “but before your operation, what did you do to India to make her want you dead?”
~
“You got your best friend to give my ex herpes?” India asked. “That’s twisted.”
“I did what I had to do for my baby,” Rosaria defended, grabbing her twin’s hand.
“Stop calling me that!” India instructed, pulling her hand away from her sister’s grasp. “I am not your baby. Look, I don’t want to sound ungrateful sis, you know I love you more than anything, but this thing between you & me…it’s over! First you gave my cheating ass ex herpes, then you threatened to tell my new bae I’m pregnant, & now you let this big, white fluffy dog track mud all over my french decor…”
“Over? It’s Over? Is your Black Thor gonna save the day, guns ‘a blazin’ then just ride off with you into the sunset?” Rosaria sassed after laughing.
“How’d you know bae has guns?” India asked.
“Chile please, I background check every new guy you date,” Rosaria laughed.
“Well you’re right,” India replied. “He does have guns and as soon as he pulls that trigger, this thing between us is finally over. It ends tonight!”
~
“Whack!” was the sound Anthony’s gun made as he pistol whipped India’s brother (?)
“Why does she want me to kill you?”
‘Why don’t you ask her yourself?” India’s bro/sis snapped.
Anthony kicked the iphone out of her hand, aimed his gun at her & pulled the trigger, shooting out the lamp.
“The next one is going in your skull,” Anthony warned him…, her…. the person he was aiming the gun at. “Now tell me, why does your sister want me to kill you?”
“Because,” India’s brother responded, staring Anthony deep in his eyes, “I raped her.”
To be continued……
Read episode #5 now => http://wp.me/sT7Bl-bib005
Missed the 1st episode? Read it here =>> http://wp.me/sT7Bl-bib
Episode #2 =>> http://wp.me/sT7Bl-bib002
Last week’s episode #3 =>> http://wp.me/sT7Bl-bib003
This is a fictional, weekly web-story, based on true events.
I offered to incorporate subscribers emails for advice in the weekly #BreakfastInBed stories as a way for them to anonymously ask people worldwide for advice on their situations.
By: Ebrahim Aseem
Author of the book, “Why Men Cheat on Loyal Women”
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Ebrahim Aseem
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