Jah: A Novella (Them Boys Book 2) Read online

  Jah

  (Them Boys: Book 2)

  Alexandria House

  Pink Cashmere Publishing, LLC

  Arkansas, USA

  Copyright © 2020 by Alexandria House

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America

  First Printing 2020

  Pink Cashmere Publishing, LLC

  [email protected]

  Jah – the Rastafarian name of God. Jah (or Yah) is also a short form, the first syllable of Yahweh.

  1

  Jah

  “Yo, Mitchell! Somebody here asking for you!” Poe’s voice boomed through the garage.

  “Tell ‘em I’m busy! Shit!” I yelled in response. Didn’t this nigga see me up under this car? I swear I needed to fire his ass, but he was a good mechanic most days.

  “It’s Genesis.”

  “Shit, and?” I wasn’t fucked up about that woman, hadn’t been in years.

  “And she said Sharpe sent her. Something about his ‘Lac.”

  “Fuck,” I muttered, rolling myself from under the car and hopping to my feet.

  “Damn, your big ass can move,” Poe mumbled as I walked past him, heading from the garage into the office.

  This cheating-ass woman looked like she’d always looked—short, thick, fine, and pretty, but she was a damn demon in disguise. I knew that for sure, because that trifling-ass demon had jumped off of her onto me, making me a nigga who didn’t love anymore. I just fucked and kept it moving. I had no scruples when it came to pussy.

  A smile spread across her face as I moved closer to her.

  “Ms. Rykard, what can I do for you?” I asked.

  Her smile slid into a smirk. “Ms. Rykard?”

  “Yeah. What? You married now or something? You Mrs. Sharpe? That’s why you got his car? I know you love fucking my associates.”

  “No, Jah,” she said, as she shook her head. “It’s just...when did I become Ms. Rykard to you? And am I supposed to call you Mr. Mitchell now?”

  I stepped around her, heading out to the parking lot in front of the building to what I assumed was her new man’s car. Knowing she’d followed me outside, I asked, “What’s going on with the car?”

  “Damn, really? Can you look at me, Jah?”

  That’s when I knew she was on her usual bullshit. I shook my head as I turned toward her. “Ain’t shit wrong with this car, is it? You done drove your ass over here in another nigga’s car trying to get some dick from me. I see you ain’t changed a bit.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I ain’t fucking Sharpe. I’m working for him. I was running some errands for him, and since I was nearby, I thought I’d drop in to see you.”

  I smirked. “You miss this dick, don’t you?”

  “Mm-hmm. Just like you miss this pussy.”

  “Can’t miss what was never mine. That motherfucker belongs to everybody. That’s some community pussy.”

  “Damn, Jah! Really? You still on that? I made a mistake, and I said I was sorry! Shit!”

  “Take care, Genesis. Don’t fuck Sharpe’s car up. And do me a favor, don’t come back here. I ain’t got time to have to kick Sharpe’s ass about you being here and I don’t even want you.” I said, leaving her outside my shop and returning to my work.

  Tricia

  It’s nothing short of amazing how a man can seem to sense when you get real about leaving him. I mean, I’d finally made up my mind to leave after wasting seven years of my life putting up with his bullshit. I was ready to start over, and all of a damn sudden, this negro became the perfect boyfriend, my dream lover—attentive, no more late nights coming home. Over the last few months, things had been perfect between us, like we’d traveled back in time to when we first got together and he acted like he was so crazy about my ass, convincing me to quit my job so I’d have more time to spend with him. What my stupid ass didn’t realize was that it was a trap, his way of handicapping me and making it hard for me to leave him when I became aware of his bullshit.

  I fought not to sneer at this man as he sat across from me at the dinner table, inhaling the fried catfish I’d cooked.

  “Damn, Trish…baby, this is good! You know you can cook your ass off. Makes me wanna tear that pussy up even more than I was planning to.”

  Silence from me as I glued my eyes to my own empty plate. Him being nice was really pissing me off.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I glanced up to see his big eyes on me, his eyebrows knitted together. “Nothing, Saul. Just...tired, I guess.”

  He sat back in his chair and sighed. “I know where this is going. You trying not to fuck? Baby, it’s been forever! Shit, it’s actually been months! Damn, can I at least put a finger in it?”

  Through my own sigh, I said, “Saul, I think I need...I need a break.”

  “A break? What kind of break?” His voice had risen a couple of octaves. “You tryna leave me?”

  He was a handsome man—dark skin, huge expressive eyes, juicy lips, thick coarse hair, and he was a dresser. He was six feet tall, had impeccable hygiene, and honestly, the dick was good. I’d loved him for a long time, had hoped and prayed for this change I saw in him for years, but now, I just couldn’t appreciate it.

  “No, that’s not what I’m saying,” I said, shaking my head, and I meant it. I didn’t necessarily want to leave him anymore now that he’d changed. I mean, he was my whole life for years. I just...shit, I didn’t know what the hell I wanted.

  “Then what are you saying? Damn, I’m staying home, doing all the stuff you been fussing about for years, and in return, I can’t even get no pussy from my main woman?”

  My eyes narrowed at him, and I saw the exact moment he realized his mistake.

  “Shit,” he muttered. “What I meant to say was—”

  “You meant to say what you said. You just didn’t mean to say it out loud.”

  His shoulders fell. “Trish, I love you. Have I fucked up in the past? Yeah. Okay? I have fucked with a lot of women. I’m admitting the shit, but I love you. I ain’t never loved nobody but you. I’ve changed for you. I...” He stood from his chair and walked around the table, stopping next to me and dropping onto one knee. When he produced a ring, my mouth fell open. This was the man who said he’d only get married when his dick stopped working.

  “Tricia Shanice Gurley, will you marry me?”

  2

  Jah

  “‘Sup, nigga?”

  I smiled and shook my head at my brother Shu. He didn’t talk all that much, but when he did, just about everybody was “nigga” to him. “‘Sup, Shu-Shu? Can’t believe you calling me. Your ass off work for once? No double shift?” Me and my brothers all had our own ways of coping with the shit we grew up in. Set fought professionally for years, and now he had his wife to buffer the pain for him. Shu worked all the damn time, and me? I had a whole list of stuff I did to keep from further fucking my life up.

  “Just got off working sixteen, tireder than a motherfucker but thought I’d check on my baby brother.”

  “I’m good, man. Working. You’ll never guess who showed up at my shop yesterday.”

  “Nella?”

  “Nope.”

  “Lanée?”

  “Nah.”

  �
��Amber?”

  “No.”

  “Not Genesis.” I swear he almost raised his voice, and Shu never raised his voice.

  “Yep, you know she cycles around every few months.”

  “Man, what’d you put on these women, especially her? Never mind. I don’t wanna know. I don’t need that kinda trouble.”

  “Man, me either, especially since she’s messing around with Sharpe’s ass now.”

  “Word? She’s messing with your boy?”

  “Yeah. She says she’s working for him, but she came to my shop in his Cadillac.”

  “Oh, they definitely fucking. You better keep her ass away from you.”

  “Shit, I intend to. You know I try not to fuck up people I respect. Just ain’t right. So what’s up with you?”

  “Same old shit. Work and…work.”

  “No new woman?”

  “Much as I work? Nah. You? You making you another stalker?”

  I laughed. “You got jokes, huh? But nah, not really.”

  “Not really? Fuck that mean, Jah Rastafari?”

  I grinned at his nickname for me. “It means I ain’t getting it like Set’s getting it. I swear every time I call that nigga he be done just finished fucking. They be getting it in all over that new house in Vegas. Kareema is a G.”

  “Nah, Kareema was made for that nigga. That’s what that is. She’s a good one. Set lucked out.”

  “Yeah, he most definitely did. We all so messed up in the head, I didn’t think either of us would ever get married.”

  “Yeah…”

  “Well, thanks for checking on me, big bro.”

  “No doubt. I’m about to call Set now, see what he’s up to.”

  “Prolly fucking.”

  We both laughed. Well, I laughed and Shu kind of grunted. Then I said, “Holla at you later, Shu-Shu.”

  We ended the call, and I stared at myself in my dresser mirror. Sitting on my bed, I tried not to think of anything that would put me in a fucked-up mood, but it was too late. My own words had my head tangled up, so I lifted from the bed, grabbed my keys, and headed to the gym before I punched something or someone, and when I got like this, it didn’t matter who or what. I was seriously trying not to fuck up an innocent bystander.

  3

  Tricia

  “Thanks, girl! You don’t know how much this means to me. I just had to get out of town, or I was going to lose it. You sure your man is okay with me staying here?” I rambled, as I stepped over the threshold of Kareema’s and Set’s new house. It was so new that the walls were bare, and one of the four bedrooms was still devoid of furniture, according to my friend.

  “Set doesn’t like people in his space, but I convinced him to be okay with it,” she replied, as she grabbed the handle of my rolling suitcase and led me through the huge living room.

  “What you convince him with? Pussy?”

  “Of course.”

  “Shit, I think your pussy could convince him to rob a damn bank. That negro loves your ass, with a capital L! Wait, he ain’t here, is he?”

  “No, loud ass, and you need to know that in addition to my pussy, I promised that you’d behave.”

  I stopped and stared at her as she opened a door and led me inside a bedroom. “What you mean behave? You act like I be wildin’ out or something. All I do is watch TV and be on Facebook.”

  “I know, but…Set likes peace…and quiet.”

  “You’re calling me loud?!” I shrieked.

  In response, Kareema gave me a smirk.

  Rolling my eyes, I said, “Is it my fault that I’m passionate? Plus, this mess with Saul got my nerves bad.”

  She sat on the side of the bed. “Okay, sit down and tell me what he did this time that made you actually leave him.”

  “The sumbitch asked me to marry him!” I said, propping my hands on my hips.

  She frowned. “And that’s a problem?”

  “Yes! And he’s been acting all sweet. No more staying out late; he’s hanging around the got damn house all the time…”

  “Really? How long has this been going on?”

  “Like two damn months! And he’s been being so attentive, basically begging for the pussy!”

  “Um…aren’t all those things that you’ve been wanting from him? I mean, right before I moved out here with Set, you told me you were tired of playing house with him and that you were ready to get married or break up.”

  “Yeah, I know, but things…I don’t know that I want that anymore. At least not with him.” I plopped down on the bed beside her and sighed. “To be honest, I thought I was ready to leave him. Now? I’m just confused. And what am I supposed to do about this whole proposal thing?”

  “Uh, you say yes, or you say no. Either you want to marry him, or you don’t.”

  “I don’t…I think.”

  “Trish, what’s going on with you? Saul might have put you through some shit, but I always thought you were clear on how you felt about him. What changed that?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I changed, partially because of what you have with Set. The way he loves you, protects you? That’s how it’s supposed to be. I bet he’d never lie to you.”

  She smiled. “I don’t think he would, either.”

  “See? Seven years, I’ve been with Saul for seven years, and other than our first year together and these past couple of months, it’s been pure fucking torture. The women, the lies, the disrespect…”

  “Well, what did you say to him after he proposed?”

  “I told him I needed time and space to think. Told him I was going to come out here to visit you for a little while.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to stay as long as you need to,” Kareema said sincerely. “And this is Vegas. There’s plenty going on here to distract you if you need that.”

  “Thanks, girl. I truly appreciate it.”

  *****

  What in the fuck is he doing here, in Vegas, in this house? Did Kareema know he was coming out here, too? And if she did, why in the hell didn’t she tell me?

  Those thoughts screamed in my head when I walked into Kareema’s and Set’s kitchen. After we chatted, Kareema left me to get settled and I ended up taking a nap, woke up two hours later famished, and followed the aroma of food to the kitchen where I found myself face to face with Jah Mitchell.

  Rather than speak to him, I just stood there and stared at him, and he stared right back at me. I felt like a deer in headlights, and then he smiled at me, and I told myself to turn around and leave.

  “Tricia? Damn, I thought Set was playing when he said you were here visiting,” Jah said. “I’m visiting too.”

  Before I could reply to that statement, Set waltzed into the kitchen wearing a smile, something I’d rarely seen on his face. He always looked so…scary. “Damn, that smells good! What you got going on in here, Jah?” Set boomed.

  Jah was the one cooking?

  My eyes skipped over to him as he lifted the lid of a pot for Set to see. Shit, I wanted to see, too, but was too stubborn to move my feet.

  “Is that jollof rice? Mannnn, what?!” Set said, sounding like this was something Jah had cooked for him before.

  “Yep, and this here is some Gizdodo for that ass,” Jah said proudly.

  What was with all this damn African food? I hated to admit it, but my ass was intrigued.

  Set started rubbing his hands together. “Man, I’ma tear that shit up!” he declared, and then he left the kitchen.

  I was about to leave, too, attempt to locate my BFF in the huge house, and interrogate her when Jah’s rumbling voice startled me. Instead of the growl that Set possessed, Jah’s baritone was smooth but so deep that my belly flipped every time he spoke. And his silly-ass laugh? It could make my heart stop. Plus, the motherfucker was so big and wide and fine. And those eyes? His eyes, adorned with thick brows and lashes, were darker than Set’s, and they pierced me as he said, “Wanna taste?”

  My eyes darted around the bright kitchen. “Who?”

>   Those kissable lips of his spread into another smile. Another really nice smile. Then the nigga licked his damn lips, making my pussy purr in approval. “You ever had jollof rice?”

  “Uh, no?”

  “Wanna taste? I’d really like to know what you think.”

  “Y’all Nigerian or something?” I asked.

  “No, not that I know of.”

  “How’d you learn to make all that then?”

  “From my ex. I made sure she taught me right before I kicked her cheating ass out of my house.”

  I stared at him again.

  “Bring your ass on over here. You know you wanna taste it.”

  Well, shit, I did want to taste it and I needed to stop acting like a lunatic with this man, so I nodded and inched over to the stove, opening my mouth to accept the spoonful he offered me. My taste buds exploded, and I moaned a little.

  “Oh-my-gawd! I mean, wow!” I squealed, turning to smile at him, but the look on his face made me quickly back away a bit. He looked like he wanted to tear my ass up right there in that kitchen.

  “Good, huh?” he inquired.

  “Yeah, it’s-it’s very good.”

  “As good as my dick?”

  My mouth dropped open, and my eyes raced around the room while my pussy started power walking. “Jah, don’t—”

  “I know it ain’t as good as your pussy. I ain’t never had nothing that good before or since. Got damn, Trish, I been missing the shit out of that pussy,” he nearly whispered, and then he leaned in close and gently sucked on my bottom lip. A second later, his tongue was in my mouth and my right butt cheek was in his huge hand. Then he dragged his tongue from my mouth to the side of my neck while squeezing my ass.

  That damn tongue. That thing had to be made of sin and shame.

  “I thought you were mad at me,” I managed to utter on a ragged breath.

  “I was, but my dick just told me we ain’t mad at you no more.” He squeezed my right breast through my shirt before leaning in to kiss me again.