Chosen by a Jamaican Bad Boy

by Racquel Williams

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

Zeke and Khallani seem like the perfect couple, but in a short time, their lives are turned upside down.

Khallani’s love for her man is tested when she makes the unthinkable decision to become his ride-or-die chick in hopes of finally getting the love she desires. But at what price? She quickly realizes things are not what they seem. This young thug’s life is filled with secrets. Can her love for him weather the storm, or will she run for shelter?

Jamaican-born Zeke is one of Richmond’s richest dope boys. Looking for a way out of a failed relationship, he pursues Khallani. However, with darkness looming over his life and his strong ties to the streets, it’s hard for him to fully commit.

Zeke’s pain becomes unbearable after he loses his lifeline. He is incapable of giving love when his heart has become hard as a brick. Betraying the only woman who loves him will cost him dearly. His world is about to turn upside down, and he will soon find himself seeking bitter revenge.

Release date: December 24, 2024

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

People often say home is where the heart is, and I was finding this out the hard way. It’d been three months since I made the big move from New York to Richmond, Virginia, because of a position at one of the country’s most elite hospitals, MCV Hospital. I was an LPN for about three years and had a position at Montefiore Hospital in the Bronx. I loved working there, but I’d been waiting to get a position on the orthopedic floor. It’d been a year since I put in for it, and I was tired of waiting.

After my aunt passed away from cancer, my heart broke ’cause I lost my best friend and the only person who was there for me after I got put out. She also encouraged me to go to nursing school, all along pushing me to be the woman I was today. Family cookouts were not the same, and I started burying myself in my work. I needed a fresh start, so I began looking at different states. Virginia quickly caught my attention. I remembered a coworker had family out there, and she always bragged about how great the state was. One night while at home, I jumped on the computer and started looking at available nursing jobs in Virginia. It wasn’t hard because they had multiple vacancies with hefty signing bonuses.

I wasted no time filling out an application for MCV and uploaded my résumé. Within days, I was contacted by the hospital resource department and offered a position on the orthopedic floor. This was too good to be true. This was the position I’d been waiting for.

I made the six-hour trip from New York to Virginia for the interview. The hiring manager was very impressed with my work ethic after a friendly conversation. I was offered the position with a huge pay difference and a hefty signing bonus. I gladly accepted the offer. I was ready to start my life over. I took the two weeks to talk to my Realtor and put up my co-op for sale. He then put me in touch with a Realtor in Virginia. I didn’t need a whole lot of space. A two-bedroom condo or townhouse was good enough for me. Plus, I was going to donate all of my aunt’s clothes and furniture. I was ready for a new start, and that included new furniture, clothes, and friends.

“Bitch, I can’t believe you’re really leaving me. Who the fuck am I going to chill wit’ on my days off?” Kelsey quizzed.

“Girl, I told you to come on. Shit, you could work at the same hospital as me and find you a place too. We could be living it up down south for real.”

“Hell nah, son. I was born and raised in the Boogie Down. There’s no way I’m leaving to go live in no country. I’ll come visit you and all, but I’ma die in my city.”

“Girl, you’re a whole fool. Richmond is not the country, and change is good. Shit, you’ll probably find one of those down-south niggas to work your back out.”

“Hmm, anything past Delaware is the country for me. Yeah, and no thanks. I love my New York niggas, especially them Brooklyn ones. Just the sound of their voice makes my pussy jump.”

“I hear you. Then weeks later you complaining to me how much you hate their ass. But to each his own. On a serious note, I’m going to miss the fuck out of you. We’ve been inseparable since we met, and it’s going to be hard not seeing you daily. You know I’ve been struggling since my aunt died. My love for the city is no longer there, and I feel like I need to start over, you know?”

“Girl, you know you don’t have to explain to me. I just want you to be good. As long as you’re good, then I’m good. I want you to know I’m only a phone call away and it don’t take me nothing to jump on the highway.”

“Yes, yes, I know you will take that drive for me. Anyways, it’s getting late, and I have some last-minute packing to do.”

“Okay. This is so hard. You know I’m a G. I can’t be feeling emotional and shit.” She stood up, and I stood up. The hug was so intense it was like neither one of us was trying to let go.

“Oh God, just go,” she said, laughing.

“I love you, friend. This isn’t goodbye.”

“Love you too.”

With no other words spoken, I walked out her door and down the driveway. I wiped the tears rolling down my face. She was the closest thing to a sister I had, and leaving her was like leaving a piece of my heart in New York.

As I pulled off, I saw her watching me through her curtains. I waved as I sped down the street. Maybe this wasn’t the right decision I was making. After all, New York was the only home I knew. Maybe I was crazy for leaving.

I reached over and turned the alarm off for about the eleventh time. This was my cue to get up, but my black ass was tired as hell after working the 7:00 p.m. to 7:00 a.m. shift at the hospital. After lying there for a few more minutes, I decided to drag my ass out of the bed. I had an eleven o’clock appointment at the nail salon, and I didn’t want to be late. It was a busy time of year, and with COVID-19 spreading rapidly, I wasn’t sure if Governor Northam would put the state back on lockdown. I couldn’t risk walking around with my nails like this. I looked down on the poor state of my nails. They were screaming, “Fill me, bitch!”

It was three weeks before Christmas, and Richmond weather was a little on the cold side. It was a relief ’cause my bestie told me New York had over six inches of snow the day before. Shit, I missed NY, but I damn sure wasn’t missing all that snow, especially when I had to drive in it.

I took a quick shower and got dressed in my two-piece Fashion Nova sweat suit. I put on one of my favorite wigs and a little makeup. I was trying to cover up the bags under my eyes. I didn’t go out much, and even though it was only a mall run, I didn’t want to look beat down like some of these young bitches I saw out here.

The mall was more crowded than I expected. I guessed the virus wasn’t going to deter people from coming out to celebrate the holidays. Christmas carols played loudly over the mall speakers, and kids lined up to see Santa. I couldn’t help but smile as I walked past the crowd of people. This was supposed to be the happiest time of the year for most people, but not for me. This was my first holiday since my aunt passed, and here I was in a new city with no family or close friends. I could’ve taken the drive home for the holidays to spend with my aunts, uncles, and cousins, but truthfully, I wasn’t in a festive mood. Plus, I was working the days leading up to Christmas. If my memory served me right, Christmas was the only day I had off.

I noticed my mood changing, so I quickly put those thoughts out of my head. It was my day off, and I needed to relax, maybe do some shopping after I got my nails done. The nail salon wasn’t too crowded, so I was serviced right away. I decided to hit Macy’s up after I was finished and found a few things to add to my wardrobe. Most of my clothes went to charity, so I decided to start over fresh. I wanted a new look. I was always a bad chick, but with my aunt passing, I allowed myself to go a little bit. However, with this new job and new state, I was back and ready to show these VA bitches how us NY chicks did it.

I could barely manage the bags by the time I was done spending that Discover credit card. I got lots of outfits, purses, and a few new heels. Shit, shopping always put me in a different mood. I clutched the bags as I made my way out of the mall. It was starting to get hot in the mall, and this damn mask wasn’t helping the situation. I felt like I was about to pass out. I let out a long breath when I exited the mall. The cool air rushed my face, and I welcomed it. I needed to yank this mask off, but not until I could sanitize my hands. I made my way to my car, looking around. This was the holidays and the time of year where niggas be out looking for their next victim. I heard stories from coworkers about how these Richmond niggas got down. Since moving here, I’d been thinking about getting a gun. Nothing big, just something small enough to fit in my purse. I ain’t no killer, but I would bust one of these niggas in their ass if they felt like they could rob me of my hard-earned money.

“Aye, you dropped one of your packages!” I heard a voice yell out.

I looked in my hand and I had all my packages, so I kept walking. I finally reached my car. I popped the trunk and was about to put my bags in.

“Yo, B, you dropped one of yo’ packages.”

I turned around to face this tall, skinny, dread-head dude holding a Victoria’s Secret bag in his hand. I turned back to look at my bags, and true enough, my VS bag was missing. Oh, shit. I reached my hand out to get my bag, but I was more focused on his deep dimples and his below-the-shoulder dreads. His energy was definitely pulling me toward him in ways I couldn’t understand.

“Thank you for my bag,” I cleared my throat and said in a whisper-like tone.

“You more than welcome, B. I kept yelling you dropped your bag, but you kept walking.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I was caught up in my thoughts, so I didn’t hear you. Again, thank you.”

I took the bag from him and threw it in the trunk. I then closed the trunk and proceeded to walk away. He was still there. Even though I was grateful for my bag, I didn’t understand why he was still here. I started to open my car door when this stranger walked up and blocked me. My heart instantly dropped. He’s about to rob me, I started to think.

“Chill, B, you lookin’ scared and shit,” he laughed.

I didn’t know what the hell was funny. He was really trying my patience. “Yo, I appreciate that you grabbed my bag, but I would love for you to get on about your business so I can go about mine.”

“I’m Zeke. What’s your name? The least you can do is tell me yo’ name.”

I stood there staring him in the eyes. It was like reading through that nigga’s soul. My body was twitching, and my palms were getting sweaty. This dude had me feeling out of my element, and I didn’t like it.

“Listen, sir, with all due respect, I don’t give out my name to strangers or have long conversations with them. Now get the hell out of my way before I start screaming bloody murder.”

“Ha-ha, I see you from up top. That New York accent is coming out,” he said in his thick Caribbean accent.

I’m not going to lie. He reminds me of Kymani from Shottas, but with a skinnier build.

“Listen, my name is Khallani. Now that’s out the way, can I go?”

“Bless up, Khallani. Now can we exchange numbers?”

“Damn, nigga, what next, my damn social security number?”

“Nah, me don’t want that. Yo’ number will do. I want to get to know you on a personal level. I see you not wearing no wedding ring, so you don’t have a man.”

I stood there contemplating what to do. He was standing so close to me I could smell his cologne. I wasn’t familiar with the name, but whatever he wore made my pussy moist along with that accent. Against my better judgment, I went ahead and exchanged numbers with this stranger.

“Yo, B, I’ma link you later. So, make sure you answer your phone.”

“All right.”

Whew! I was happy when he walked off. I got into my car and pulled off. This nigga was really tripping and demanding. I grew up around Jamaicans and used to go around my dad’s family when I was younger. So his accent was thick, but not as bad as some. I also knew them niggas were controlling and nothing to be played with. I heard enough stories about how they beat their bitches. I remember that one Jamaican dude in Mount Vernon who killed his baby mama and threw her in the Hudson River all ’cause she broke off the relationship with him. I loved their accent but always steered clear of them. I loved my American niggas even though some of them were on the crazy side too.

I quickly pushed that dude out of my head. He was cute and all, but not my kind. I had my whole life ahead of me. I was really enjoying my single life even though sometimes I missed getting fucked real good.

I was on the phone with my nigga back home in Jamaica when this little baddie walked past me. Shit, I immediately caught a hard-on in my pants. I looked around to make sure no one else noticed. It ain’t like I could hide this nine-and-a-half-inch wood in these gray sweatpants.

“Yo, daddy, this COVID shit in the way. We can’t move di work the way we really want to. Shit losing money from left to right,” I said to my nigga Mello.

“Bloodclaat gyal Corona a fuck up everything. It’s the same t’ing out here. Twice we try to ship the work, and coast guards got the shit. Niggas out of millions. Yo, the t’ing tight right now.”

I was still focused on the baddie walking in front of me. She was wearing some kind of sweatpants, but her ass was moving in rhythm. I imagined me deep in them guts while her ass clapped. I watch as she dropped one of her bags. She must not have noticed ’cause she kept walking.

“Yo, daddy, I’ma link yuh lata.”

I didn’t wait for a response. I jogged to the bag and picked it up. I started calling out to her to let her know she dropped her bag. She kept on walking, so I figured she didn’t hear me. When I finally caught up to her and gave her the bag, she seemed like I was intruding or something. Shit, if I knew her ass wasn’t worried, I would’ve left that shit right where she dropped it.

When she turned around, she was pretty in the face, too. That was definitely a plus for me. There was something about a pretty bitch with a fat ass. After chatting with her, I decided to cut to the chase and ask for the number. Shit, I didn’t care if she had a nigga. I was tryin’a fuck. I wasn’t no scary nigga. She could either agree or say no. Either way, I was straight. I was a G, and getting bitches wasn’t hard. I got plenty money, I ate pussy good, and I laid this wood down. I smiled as I walked away. I knew it wasn’t going to be hard to pull her. I was eager to see how it was going to play out. Who knew? I might even keep her around after smashing.

It’d been days since I had that encounter with the Jamaican dude, and even though I tried to put him out of my mind, it wasn’t working. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but there was something intriguing about him. Shit, a nigga that fine probably had a ton of bitches. I grabbed my phone and dialed my bitch’s number. I missed her ass a lot.

“Hey, hey, bestie!” she yelled into the phone.

“Damn, bitch, you sound happy like you just got fucked.”

“Girl, yes, I got some bomb-ass dick last night. Anyways, what’s up, boo? I miss yo’ ass.”

“Girl, nothing. Work killing my ass. Other than that, everything is good. I’m adapting to my new state.”

“You ain’t bag none of those fine-ass doctors as yet?”

“Girl, you know damn well I don’t do doctors. Hood niggas are my kind of dudes.”

“Uh-huh, every bitch want a hood nigga until that nigga get shot at. Bitch, don’t you end up on America’s Most Wanted.” She busted out laughing.

“Hell nah, I ain’t wit’ that. Bitch, the other day I met this Jamaican dude at the mall—”

“Bitch, let me find out you fucked him. Oh, shit, my friend got her some new dick!” she started yelling.

“Girl, shut the fuck up. This pussy ain’t been touched in over five months. But listen up. We exchanged numbers and shit, but I’ont know if I should call him. You know how crazy them Jamaican niggas are.”

“Girl, them niggas can fuck. That one nigga I had used to beat my pussy up. I could barely walk for days. Shit, I used to swear I wouldn’t fuck him ever again until the next time when he got me wet. Oh, one thing though, they don’t eat pussy, especially the ones from Jamaica.”

“That’s so childish. I didn’t know niggas out here still not eating pussy. What the fuck? They think dick alone gon’ pull it off?”

“Girl, from what I heard, it’s taboo for niggas to eat pussy in Jamaica. That and being gay in Jamaica. They don’t play that shit.”

“Yeah, I get it about being gay, but eating pussy is mandatory. Especially if you fuckin’ with a bitch like me. Ain’t no sticking if you ain’t licking.” I burst out laughing.

“Bitch, you’re a whole fool out here in these streets. I’m happy you’re doing good though. Trust me, life ain’t the same without you up here. I been by myself lately though. I don’t fool with these bitches. I go to work and come straight home.”

“Yeah, babes, I miss yo’ ass too. You know I ain’t too friendly, so I ain’t trying to get close to none of these bitches. There’s this one chick at work, she’s kind of cool. We often sit at lunch and talk. She kind of reminds me of you, funny and crazy at the same time. We did lunch a few times, but other than that, I’m either working or in the crib.”

“Bitch, don’t be getting too close to her ass. Yeah, she reminds you of me, but there’s only one of me. I’m the only bestie you have. Please make that clear, boo-boo,” she said sarcastically.

“Somebody is feeling jealous,” I giggled.

“Me? Never jealous. Just letting you know. Three is a crowd.”

“I hear you. If this makes you feel any better, you will forever be my soul sister and bestie. No one can take your place.”

“Uh-huh, you full of shit. But umm, . . .