A Lover's Betrayal

by Nikki K. Hail

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Ridah is faced with the dire consequences of her choices, messing with the hood’s finest. She is no stranger to betrayals and backstabbing, and the stakes keep rising…

When Ridah discovers being pregnant, she prays that God will somehow favor her, and the child she is carrying will turn out to be K.J.’s. But Ridah knows it is almost impossible, especially after sleeping with his cousin, Smirky.

After the lines are crossed between Ridah and K.J., Lanka is willing to do anything within her power to disconnect any bond Ridah and K.J. have built, and she makes attempts on Ridah’s life in fear of her exposing her secrets to the only man she has ever loved, K.J.

As Ridah awaits trial, her life continues to unravel after unexpected tragedies. Ridah starts to wonder if sleeping with K.J. was worth the drama that comes along with dealing with him. Her ongoing beef with Lanka is now personal after Lanka kills her close friend in cold blood.
With the stakes high and Ridah losing people who were once dear to her, she vows to exact revenge for her fallen loved ones.

Everyone is not who they claim to be. The truth is staring them boldly in the face, and if they’re not paying attention, they may be next.

Release date: December 16, 2025

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

Hiding hatred makes you a liar, and slandering others makes you a fool.

—Proverbs 10:18

As she sat behind the cherry-wood table, Ridah’s heart beat rapidly. This courtroom wasn’t just her trial. It was her reality check. Her stomach churned at the thought of her fate resting in the hands of mostly white jurors. When she glanced their way, two of them looked half asleep. She inhaled sharply and let the breath out slowly. Inhaling deeply, she then sighed, glancing at the DA, and finally, her eyes landed on her court-appointed attorney. Were they in on something? Maybe she was just paranoid, but why the hell were they wearing matching colors?

Each minute that passed made her more irritated.

Ms. O’Kelly, seated beside her, scribbled notes. She was pleased that Ridah followed her advice: dress soft, innocent, young. Let the jury see a young girl, not a criminal. The goal was to appear innocuous to her peers.

Ridah kept that in mind as she dressed in a two-piece sky blue Chanel suit. Her face was graced with a pair of Chanel frames. Ridah’s looks fit the description Ms. O’Kelly needed the jurors to see.

The district attorney, on the other hand, was dead set on making her look like another ruthless adolescent to society. But outside this courtroom, in public view, thanks to Ms. O’Kelly, Ridah didn’t look destructive. She didn’t look ruthless.

When someone Ridah didn’t know stepped on the stand, she bounced her leg more out of anger than a nervous habit. It was a challenge to sit quietly and listen to people labeled “character witnesses” stigmatize her. Some of these people Ridah had never seen a day in her life.

Getting clout for snitching was obviously the thing to do. That was how it was looking. People wanted to feel like they were helping society get rid of “another problem.” Ridah had done a lot of crazy and wild things in her youthful life, but on this day, her peers were so far from the truth.

Then came the next witness. Capone.

He strutted into the courtroom like he owned it, head high, arrogance dripping off him like cologne. A snake wrapped in a tailored suit, like betrayal was fashionable. Ridah leaned forward, rubbing her forehead with a hand full of stress. Capone looked too comfortable walking to the stand like it was his throne.

The DA gave Capone a stern look as she asked if the person who pulled the trigger was in the courtroom. Capone looked Ridah in the eye and ratted like he was going to be rewarded with a block of government cheese the State offered. He replied and proceeded by pointing her out in the courtroom. No one knew he was the cause of most of their shortcomings. Instead of being a man and taking responsibility for his own mistakes when he got jammed up, Capone chose to go out the cowardly way.

With each answer Capone gave freely, it was like a nail deepening into the palm of Ridah’s hand. He nailed her to the cross personally, making sure she could not get off. It was hard for her to hide the hurt now displayed on her face. Even though she had seen with her own eyes Capone’s griminess slip out to others who were one and the same with them, the thought of him betraying her had never crossed her mind.

Pushing her glasses closer to her eyes, Ridah watched how the odds stacked up against her like Legos. It did not matter how bad it looked. She wouldn’t break. She would never reveal the identity of the person who actually pulled the trigger that fateful night. Ridah took loyalty seriously, even if it was not reciprocated on the other end. And still, somewhere in her spinning thoughts, she thought about Jesus. Judas. Betrayal. But at least Judas couldn’t hide his heart from God. Capone? He raised his hand up to the public and lied like his heart was pure. He did a good job hiding his deceitfulness.

Ridah was called to the stand. She stood on the situation, not revealing who was present the night of what really happened. She admitted to being present at the party but denied seeing K.J. there. Ridah kept her answers as simple as possible. Yes, she was sure she never saw K.J. or Capone. No, she did not pull the trigger. No, she didn’t see who pulled the trigger. Ms. Johnson was not convinced at all.

The district attorney had it out for Ridah. It took every ounce of breath in Ridah not to give in to the rage that was now roaring within. Closing her eyes briefly, she exhaled, trying to get her emotions under control. Ms. Johnson continued to cross-examine her. It did not matter how she worded her questions. Ridah’s answers were still the same.

Photos were displayed of Ridah with other gang members to persuade the jurors not to be fooled by her attire and that she was dangerous to their society. To assassinate Ridah’s character further, Ms. Johnson turned the jurors’ attention to her supporters, who she believed to be gang affiliated. At least that was the perception Ms. Johnson wanted the jurors to be aware of.

Ridah’s mother, Tina, was overlooked. Her eyes were puffy from the lack of sleep and all the tears she had shed thanks to the streets. Ridah had no idea how deep her mother’s fear ran at the mere thought of the white man taking her daughter away while she sat there, helpless. Ridah turned to glance over her shoulder at her mother’s teary eyes, and regret filled Ridah’s heart for a moment. She hated to be the source of any pain her mother was enduring. Ridah knew this was the bed she had made. Now, the time had come for her to lie in it without any complaints.

Anyone who said it was sweet being born in a gang was a liar, and the truth wasn’t in them. Ridah was born, raised, and trapped in! She had been down since day one until she was old enough to get sworn in.

Ridah’s truth was that it was hard living up to the expectations that were blessed and yet cursed upon her. Though not fully understanding what she was fighting for, Ridah searched to define who she truly was within.

Ridah’s pops, Blu Foxx, was from the Bronx, New York. He banged with the best of them until he was put in a body bag and set on fire by some Vice Lords. Her mother, Tina, was his queen. She feared for their lives after Blu Foxx was murdered. Tina packed them up in the middle of the night and moved her family to Georgia. Macon, Georgia, to be exact. To be honest, gangs there weren’t any better, but that was where Ridah found her purpose, or so she thought. Ridah embraced her newfound family proudly. While Tina attempted to keep her past a secret, Ridah was out with hers, causing hell in her pops’s name, banging!

The day Ridah’s pops was murdered would forever be a strain on her memory.

Ridah was sitting between her mother’s legs as she ran the hot comb through Ridah’s thick hair. Suddenly the side door opened, and Blu Foxx came rushing in, putting Ridah on alert. He never came through there. When Blu Foxx came through the opening, a short, stocky man chased behind him.

With the hot comb in midair, Tina asked, “What in the hell is going on?” She sat still with a bewildered look.

“Run! Run!” Blu Foxx shouted, running toward his family to protect them.

Ridah didn’t hesitate. She shot up to her feet and took off running toward the room she shared with her sibling. When she heard gunshots and shouting, she ran faster. Throwing the bedroom door open, she saw Prissy already sitting up in her twin bunk bed.

“Come on, we gotta go!” Ridah said, breathing hard still from running. She rushed to the window, quickly unlocking it, then turned back to her sister. “Come on, Prissy, dang!” She wanted to get them as far away from there as possible.

After they climbed out, Ridah grabbed Prissy’s hand, and they ran until they reached their destination: Blu Foxx’s other baby mother’s house. At the top of the corner, Ridah stopped running, which caused Prissy to stop as well.

“Why we stop? We almost there,” Prissy whined.

“Listen, you go ahead. I need to go back and check on momma and them.” Ridah couldn’t see herself just leaving and not going back.

“But—” Prissy started.

“You think they wouldn’t come back for us?” Ridah questioned.

“I know they would, but what if they’re dead or you get hurt too?” Prissy panicked at the thought.

Ridah couldn’t stand the thought of their parents being dead. She had to hurry back, especially for her pops. Looking Prissy in the eye, she said, “Go. I’ma come back.”

“You better, or you gonna get in trouble,” Prissy said as she started walking down the road. When she looked back, Ridah was running back up the road they’d just come down.

When Ridah made it back to their apartment, it was destroyed. Furniture was turned over, and lamps were broken. Ridah couldn’t stop the tears from forming in her eyes. She quietly stepped into the side door, which was cracked open. The first thing Ridah saw was her pops’s mangled body on the floor in a pool of blood. She began sobbing loudly as she walked up to his body. Slowly kneeling down, she touched his ashen face.

“Daddy!” Ridah cried out. “Daddy, please get up!” She cried harder because she knew that he was never getting up again and her life would never be the same.

Ridah was so disturbed by her pops that she didn’t notice her mother’s body until she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

Tina reached for her daughter weakly. Ridah got up and ran to where her mother lay.

“Momma, you all right?” Ridah asked, searching around to make sure the man was gone.

“Blu Foxx is dead. We’re no longer safe here. We have to go,” Tina said through her tears of pain.

Tina held her wounded shoulder as she got up off the kitchen floor. She told Ridah to pack up a few things. After they grabbed what their arms could carry, they left, shutting the door on the past.

It was Blu Foxx’s first baby mother who helped Tina move. She knew that if she didn’t take them far away from New York, Blu Foxx’s killer would come back to finish what he started.

They left in the middle of the night, not sure of what the future held for them.

During Ridah’s toughest late-night warfare when she couldn’t sleep, death consumed her thoughts. Not knowing how she would leave this world tormented Ridah’s soul. Would she end up getting murdered like her pops? The question burned her mind like setting a match to paper.

The man Ridah worshipped banged to his death. He made her feel like she had something to prove. So, closing the door on who she was had never been optional, not for Ridah. Her pops was the blueprint. He was the guide for many. With that being said, Ridah followed in his footsteps. He got it out of the mud, so she jumped in the mud, swinging. Ridah just wanted to make her pops proud, even in his death. When it was Ridah’s time to rise in those streets, she ran full speed into its arms. She became street bound. It was everything Ridah dreamed of becoming. Her reality nightmare.

Only the real would be able to relate, then. There would be some people who would never understand this way of living. This once was Ridah’s life, every day, all day.

Ridah’s extended family gave her the name Ridah. It spoke for itself. When it was time to ride, she rode from the depths of her soul. See, because she was so rare and loyal, Ridah ended up catching seventy-five years for something she didn’t do! Most of them “real” dudes (they hollered) and a few females stood with the DA like they cared about them. Right hand up, lying on the stand, speaking on things they knew nothing about.

No matter how many football numbers they threw at Ridah, she barely blinked as she told them to do their job. What did she look like helping them do a job they got paid to do? This wasn’t about being cool. This was about street facts that Ridah’s pops instilled in her. He and Tina raised them to be this way.

Ridah’s sister was her twin. They were like night and day. It wasn’t hard to tell that Ridah was the night. You couldn’t pay Ridah’s twin to put on a pair of Tims and get down and gritty in the streets. Sometimes, Ridah wondered why she was so thugged out. Why couldn’t she have been more like Prissy? Though Ridah knew the answer, it didn’t stop her from wondering. Her pops’s genes ran deeper in her veins than Prissy’s. He lived on through Ridah, and she vowed to die trying to keep his legacy tall and honored.

Ridah stood at five foot five. Her skin was smooth and chocolate, and she had big, round eyes. She was slightly bowlegged with an impeccable shape. In her eyes, Ridah was the sexiest goonette you’d ever stumble upon. Her homies were amazed at how Ridah aimed her blue flag–wrapped .380 snub nose with her head cocked to the left. Aim game, and be steady, ready, and deadly. She went hard in the streets without trying.

At 19 years old, Ridah couldn’t help but repeatedly ask herself, how did she end up on trial, facing over twenty years in prison? Ridah’s truth was about to be revealed. No fabricating!

Ridah was in the eighth grade when a chick named Kenyatta Patterson tried her on a disrespectful level. Kenyatta was a GD. She was normally quiet, but since she had a crew around her, Kenyatta was suddenly loud and bold. Ridah allowed Kenyatta to continue talking loudly and putting on for the people. Everyone in the cafeteria got quiet as they waited to see what was about to happen.

A lot of people did not know Ridah, let alone what she represented, and honestly, she preferred to keep it that way. It meant fewer problems unless she was tried. Now that Ridah was disrespected, she was forced to expose who she was. Ridah held her composure for as long as she could. Smiling up at Kenyatta, Ridah challenged her to repeat what she said. Like a fool, she did, and without warning, Ridah leaped across the table at her like she was a black panther. Kenyatta did not have time to react. Ridah beat her so bad that Scott begged her to stop.

From that day forward, everyone knew facts. They knew Ridah was a Gangsta Crip. So many Crips and Cripettes were coming up to her, showing love. It made Ridah feel good to receive so much love. There was nothing like that loc love. Feeling the power and movement caused Ridah to fall deep in love. Ridah found her new family. Soon after that, Lanka stepped in, and Ridah began collecting more jewels, along with a few others.

A wise man is strong. Yes, a man of knowledge increases strength.

—Proverbs 24:5

Lanka was giving Ridah knowledge that her pops never went in depth about pertaining to her set. Lanka took her under her wing, and they began to build a bond as they got deep in different lessons. One day, Lanka asked Ridah a question that she’d never forget. The question was, if Queen Sheba, her mom, and the Bible were drowning, which one would Ridah save?

Without a second thought, Ridah said to her, “Momma.”

Lanka was quiet as she stared at Ridah for a split second, as if she was giving Ridah a chance to change her answer. Instead, Ridah stood by her decision. Whether it was a test or not, Ridah was saving anyone she held dear to her.

Lanka smiled. “And remember, God’s words are supposed to be engraved in your heart,” she said as she pointed to Ridah’s chest.

Not only did Lanka teach Ridah how to walk the path that was before her, but she also shined a light on some things Ridah never knew, like Crips before they had a color. Therefore, it was never about the color to them. The color came about to honor and represent Tookie’s best friend after he was murdered. His friend always wore blue and a blue bandana. They were taught togetherness and to protect and serve their neighborhoods and the homeless.

Now, all that was amazing, but Ridah needed to find her own place in all of this. She was on the road to becoming a young legend, and Ridah was not stopping until she conquered and mastered it. She knew the life she lived could end any second and any day. Yet, it did not stop her from banging day in and day out. Ridah lived her life by the double-edged sword, so if she died by it, she could not blame anyone but herself. Until that time came, she would be Ridah, riding with everything in her. Ridah was content with dying, knowing her homies were going to hold a grudge until the final score was settled.

Yo Gotti’s voice filled the flag-wrapped club with “Bang Bang.” On one side of the room, a hyper crowd of Crips cheered a few of their “locs” on as they did the infamous dance of “The Ikey Loc,” repping their set proudly without a single hint of fear, while the Bloods continued to mug, waiting to get shit popping. Neither set was on their own territory. The slightest disrespect could make bullets rain from the opposite direction.

I see blue flags (what else)

I see red flags (what else)

I see niggas that ain’t reppin with they scared ass

D.J. Ruthless rapped on the mic along with Yo Gotti. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was not showing any mercy for either rival. In a sober mind, maybe D.J. Ruthless would not have been hyping the rivals up if he thought about the brutal outcome and effect upon others. But maybe he just did not care. After all, they called him Ruthless for a reason.

Ridah’s face turned stone cold when her eyes fell upon Erika with her tagalong scary friend, Dreka. The three of them went to Ballard Hudson Middle School several years back. Ridah considered Erika cool at one point, until she saw how she really got down, which caused Ridah to despise Erika for that reason alone. What irked her the most about Erika was that when she was in the presence of Crips, she did anything to prove how down she was for the blue team, then switched up in the presence of the opposite side. One day, Ridah was riding through Pleasant Hill, and lo and behold, there was Erika, dressed in a red jumpsuit with a scarf tied around her neck, kicking it with some Bloods. From that day forward, Ridah called her “All-star” Erika.

The very next day, Erika had the audacity to come around in a blue flag. Ridah had never been the type to show out in front of anyone, but when she felt disrespected, she would spazz out in front of whoever. Erika felt tried, so she stole off on Ridah. Class was now in session. Ridah was teaching Erika a valuable lesson. Dreka stood back as Ridah beat her best friend until she was pulled off Erika. From that day forward, the two had been at odds.

Ridah could smell the beef coating the air. Closing her eyes, she inhaled the aroma and began craving her favorite meat. As tempting and inviting as it was, Ridah prayed she would not give in to her hunger for violence. All she wanted to do was chill without wilding and capping. But Ridah could almost bet her life that Erika was not going to make it easy.

Smiling wickedly, Erika glared at Ridah, confirming what she already assumed. Ridah shook her head as Erika showed off the rubies in her mouth, then threw up her set “of the week.” Ridah clenched down on her teeth as anger slowly filled her. It seemed like no matter how hard she tried, she could not escape the drama. If Erika tried her, Ridah did not care how many people she was up against. She wasn’t going to back down, period. Ridah was the type who would bring a knife to a gun fight.

Erika smirked in satisfaction. Now that she had Ridah’s full attention, she planned to finally settle the score, especially with her crew being present tonight. Erika eyed Ridah with daring eyes as she approached her. Ridah bypassed Erika’s sidekick, bumping her so hard that Dreka stumbled but did not utter a single word. She was not crazy enough to do so, so she stood there as if nothing happened.

Now in touching distance of Erika, she and Ridah were in a standoff.

“What the fuck is so funny though?” Ridah was fully in beast mode. And beasts loved to eat.

With her red flag wrapped around her right wrist, Erika replied, “You!” Though Erika’s heart felt like it was about to blast out of her chest, she still stood there, ready for whatever.

Erika brought her right hand down on Ridah’s shoulder. Ridah flinched as if the fabric burned he. . .