How Can I Be Down?

by Brenda Hampton, Buck 50 Productions

Genres: African American Urban

Synopsis

As he struggles to control his drug empire and keep his cutthroat girlfriend in check, Kiley Jacoby Abrams has the next several months cut out for him. If that's not enough, he's got more setbacks than one man can handle: an arrogant and troublesome brother, a sneaky playa-hating friend, another friend who turns to him for everything, and a woman who only claims to have his back.

Kiley's life is full of secrets from the past, and for as long as he can remember, he's been running from a life of crime. Moving from Los Angeles to St. Louis doesn't allow him the change his heart desires, and Kiley soon realizes that trouble is his middle name. His fight to turn his life around doesn't last for long. When a new love interest comes knocking at his door, she offers Kiley a life of stability—or possibly a new journey that may lead him straight to the devil's lonely hell.

Release date: May 1, 2015

Publisher: Urban Books

Print pages: 288

Sample

I could smell the bacon cooking in the kitchen, but when I saw the red flashing lights coming in from the outside through my bedroom window, that’s what immediately awakened me. I reached for the remote and clicked on the outside camera only to see the police putting a ticket on Donovan’s black Lincoln Navigator. Why would the stupid asshole park backward on the street? Puzzled the hell out of me, because the last thing we needed were the cops showing up. I went to the bathroom, quickly shaved my rough-looking beard, and trimmed down my mustache. My bald head didn’t need a shave so I just rubbed some grease in my hands and patted it to give it a shine. After I was finished, I winked in the mirror at the finest mocha chocolate brotha I knew.

I gathered my robe in the front and headed upstairs to the third floor where all the noise was coming from. It was only nine o’clock in the morning, and to see a house full of fellas relaxing around on the leather sofa and chairs upstairs pissed me the fuck off. Didn’t these fools have somewhere else to be? And as I stood at the top of the stairs looking in their direction, the expression on my face quickly quieted the room. I guessed Donovan knew I was about to go off so he popped up and asked them to step. I watched as seven brothas, who I didn’t know, trotted down the steps one by one. As they passed by me, sons of bitches didn’t even have the nerve to speak. To me, there was too much at stake. Everything was kept in this house, including my money, so these many fellas running around could only mean trouble. As Donovan headed down the steps to escort them out, I reached my arm out in front of him.

“Uh, we need to talk,” I said.

“I’m sure we do.” He smiled at me and tried to move my arm. “Just not right now. Let me walk my boys out and I’ll be back up to holler at you in a minute.”

“Let them out the back door. The police might still be out front putting a ticket on your car. So, before you come back up, if you wouldn’t mind parking your car on the right side of the street, I’d appreciate it.”

I moved my arm and Donovan walked down the steps grinning at me. I could tell what he was thinking, but if he wasn’t man enough to say it out loud, fuck ’im. I went into the entertainment room and picked up the St. Louis American newspaper on the floor then set it down on the table. I turned on the TV and leaned back on the couch. Room was junky as hell. Empty Hpnotiq bottles and Colt 45 cans were all over the place. Thick smoke and hot, musty air stirred in the room.

When Donovan came back upstairs, he took a seat on the other side of the couch and pulled out a joint. He lit it and sat up on the edge of the couch looking at me. “So, what’s up?” he asked.

I leaned forward and gripped my hands together. “What’s up? You have the nerve to ask me what’s up?”

“Yeah, that’s ’cause I don’t know what’s on your mind. You said we needed to talk.” He took a hit from the joint and passed it to me.

I shook my head. “What’s up is all these unexpected, unknown-ass guests you’ve been having over here lately. One or two are cool, but must there be a house full of brothas I know nothing about hanging around?”

“I know ’em. Besides, it ain’t like they be hanging around every day. But if it’s a problem for you, I’ll just ask them to stop coming by.” He winked. “Okay, Mr. Boss Man?”

“Don’t be calling me that, man. You know better than I do that’s bad business just waiting to happen. Besides, look at this jacked-up room. It’s a mess and I didn’t put all our money into this house to let your damn friends come in here and mess shit up for us. So, one or two friends, that’s it. If you don’t like the rules, you can always find yourself somewhere else to live.”

“Look, Kiley,” Donovan said, blowing smoke out of his mouth. “I don’t want no trouble. I know where you’re coming from, but a nigga get bored sometimes. Kareem and Quincy always spending nights with the ladies and you and Jada forever doing shit together, so I kinda like just chilling with my new crew. And don’t worry, no hard feelings. I understand where you’re coming from.”

I reached out for his joint and took a few puffs. Then I handed it back to him. “I hope you understand you’re like family to me. My issues are about making sure things around here run smoothly. Too many niggas mean trouble, and from past experience even you know that.” I stood up and grabbed his hand then pulled him up. “Now, let’s go get some of this good-ass breakfast I’ve been smelling all morning.”

Donovan and me walked down the steps holding each other around the shoulders. When we went into the downstairs kitchen, Jada was putting the finishing touches on breakfast.

“It’s about time,” she said with her hands on her hips. “I’ve been down here since seven o’clock and the two of you Negros finally decide to show up.”

I went over by the stove where she was standing and kissed her on the cheek, then wrapped my arms around her waist. “Baby, I smelled your good cooking upstairs, but Donovan had some issues that needed my immediate attention.”

“He lying, Jada,” Donovan said. “Quiet as kept, he told me he was trying to put off coming down here eating your horrible-ass cooking for as long as he could. I was the one who reminded him of how good you cook and changed his mind.”

“Well, fuck both of y’all. I made all this food and ain’t nobody here to enjoy it. If y’all don’t want it, throw it away. I’m taking my ass back to bed.” Jada took my hands from around her and started to leave the kitchen.

I grabbed her by the hand. “I know you didn’t just believe that bullshit he said.”

“I don’t know what to believe, Kiley. Y’all play so many games that I truly don’t have time for them.” She loosened my hand and walked out.

I gave Donovan a hard stare for lying to her; then we rushed the kitchen counter and fixed us a plate. I pushed him out of the way a few times and we laughed trying to pile as many pancakes as we could on our plates. Soon after we sat down at the kitchen table to eat, Quincy and Kareem came rushing through the back door grabbing plates ready to get their grub on as well. Quincy had a black bandana wrapped around his head, and a white long Nike T-shirt that hung down over his baggy jeans. Kareem was dressed in Sean Jeans from head to toe with a pair of leather Timberlands on. By the look of things, it was obvious they’d been somewhere getting their sex on.

“Playas, playas,” I said. “Good morning to you brothas too, and can we please go wash our hands or something before bringing all these germs up in here? Kareem, I know your daddy taught you better than that, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, yeah, he did.” He smiled with a pancake hanging out of his mouth. “But he also taught me don’t starve myself either.” He and Quincy went over to the sink and washed their hands.

“That’s better. But I can’t believe these bitches y’all be out with in the wee hours of the morning ain’t feeding y’all asses. Damn shame y’all gotta come in here and eat all my woman’s good cooking up.”

“Aw, we eating,” Quincy said, piling his plate up high. “Just not what you might have in mind, my brotha.” He laughed as Kareem gave him five.

“Y’all some young nasty-ass niggas,” Donovan said. “Kiley and me would never do any shit like that.” Donovan looked over at me as I held my head down and kept on eating. “Kiley?”

I looked up and smiled. “What?”

“What, my ass. Don’t tell me you go out like that. I remember you said never in a million years would you stoop that low.”

“I know what I said, but I’m moving on with the times and so is my woman. If I don’t, somebody else will, so—”

“So, my ass. Y’all muh-fuckers crazy.” Donovan got up and dumped his plate in the trash. “Just the thought of the shit spoils my damn appetite.”

“Just the thought of what, Donovan?” Jada asked, walking back into the kitchen.

“Uh, the thought of, uh . . . sex.” Donovan hesitated.

“Sex? What about sex spoils your appetite?” she pushed.

I grabbed her around the waist and sat her down on my lap. “Donovan gay, baby. Having sex with a woman just spoils his appetite.”

She looked at me and rolled her eyes. Kareem and Quincy were at the table cracking up.

Donovan grabbed his thang. “Suck on this, Kiley. Jada, if you must know, I was talking about the thought of oral sex. Just can’t see myself indulging.”

“Oh, that. Well, I knew you wasn’t gay, especially since your bedroom is closest to Kiley and mine and I can hear what be going on. But that’s your preference. If oral sex doesn’t suit you then, hey, don’t do it. But, it would be a shame to let all that dark Hershey’s chocolate go to waste like that.” She looked at me and smiled.

I was slightly bothered that she was giving Donovan some props, but I didn’t trip.

“But, Jada,” Quincy said, “it helps the relationship, don’t it? Don’t lie. Tell Donovan how he be missing out.”

Jada looked at me and I smiled back at her. She took her hands and rubbed them across my head. “You know, Quincy, some things should just be left well enough alone, especially if you don’t know how to perform orally, but at least Kiley tries.”

Everybody burst out in laughter.

“What?” I yelled. “What do you mean, I try?”

“I mean you shouldn’t be down here talking about our sex life to begin with. So, next time, I’ll try not to tell it like it is.” She hopped up and ran out of the kitchen.

“Whew. That was deep, big brotha,” Kareem said, standing up and patting me on the back. “Kinda disappointed in you. I fasho thought you had it in you, but you can best be sure that if you don’t, I do for the both of us.”

“I’m sure you do, Kareem. There’s no doubt in my mind that you do. Thing is, you shouldn’t believe everything you hear, especially if it comes from a woman. ”

As we munched down on breakfast, I couldn’t help but think about what Jada said and rushed myself so I could go upstairs to check her for dissing me in front of the boys. If she wasn’t satisfied, I was sure that some of the other females I used to mess with were. I kept my sex life on the down low with the fellas, ’cause, honestly, it wasn’t really none of their business how I performed. I was sure they all wondered how good Jada was in bed but I never shared it with them because that would be disrespecting her. Not only that, if I did tell them how good it was, I didn’t want them to try it out for themselves. Then again, she really wasn’t any of their type of woman. She had long, thick sandy-brown hair that she always kept tightened up in a ponytail. She was also a bit on the thick side. She reminded me so much of Mama when I met her I couldn’t resist wanting her in my life. The fellas were all into small waistlines, firm breasts, and big asses but I was more into a woman’s heart. And since Jada’s heart was with me, mine was definitely with her. Now, I had my share of small waistlines, firm breasts, and big butts too, but after sex, I was still missing something. Something that none of these brothas seemed to care about: love. Eventually, that’s what strengthened me and got me on the right track. At times, just Jada’s comforting arms holding me in the middle of the night, when I fear for the worst, means more to me than anything.

After finishing up my pancakes, I excused myself from a conversation of money, sex, women, and lies. I went upstairs to my bedroom, and Jada was resting across the bed sideways looking at a magazine. I opened my robe and laid my body on top of hers. She’d just gotten out of the shower and smelled like a breath of fresh air. She closed the magazine and forced me off her by pushing me back with her ass.

“Don’t be trying to butter me up, Kiley.”

I stood up. “What’s with the attitude, Jada? You’ve been moody all damn morning.”

“No, I haven’t. My mood didn’t change until you lied to me about Donovan. The question was simple. All you had to say was he didn’t like oral sex. If you lie about that, ain’t no telling what else you’d lie about.”

I went over to the closet and pulled out my powder blue and black sweater and knitted hat to match. Then picked my black Levi’s up off the chair. I slid off my robe and started changing clothes.

Jada sat up on the bed. “Where are you going? And I was talking to you, you know?”

“I know. But you wanna argue this morning and I don’t feel like it right now. So, conversation over and I’ll see you when I get back.” I pulled my hat down, took my gun out from underneath my pillow, and slid it down the right side of my jeans. I turned on my cell phone and clipped it to my jeans. I looked at Jada. “If you need me, call me.”

She got off the bed and stood in front of the door folding her arms. “I asked you where you were going.”

I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek, then moved her over to the side. “And I said, if you need me, call me.” I walked out.

I met Donovan on the staircase and he said he was headed upstairs to clean up the entertainment room and then was going to work off breakfast by lifting weights in his room. I told him I’d be back later and thanked him for not making a big deal about our dispute earlier. When I got downstairs, Quincy and Kareem were still at the kitchen table eating.

“Say, big brother,” Kareem said, “where ya headed looking all spiffy and shit?”

“Out. I’ll be back later. If anybody needs me, call me. Deuces.” I closed the back door and left.

I opened up the garage door and backed out my pearly white Lexus with gold trimmings. Wasn’t as flashy as I wanted, but it was nice. I was trying to be as low-key as possible, so Jada and me both drove the Lexus. Kareem and Quincy shared a black BMW but had two Harleys locked up in the basement. Donovan’s Lincoln Navigator was always the only car parked in front of the house. The less attention the better. Flashy jewelry, flashy cars, and money fronting wasn’t the name of our game.

I was on my way to East St. Louis to see my son. When I moved to St. Louis five years ago, the fellas and me went to this club on the east side, Club Illusion. With Jada taking forever to decide if she wanted to move here with me or not, I met a chick named Ginger Nelson that night. She took me to her place and one thing led to another. I knocked her off a few times after that, but when Jada moved here, I called it quits with Ginger. Next thing I knew, she was blowing my phone up telling me she was pregnant. I was trying to be there for her during the pregnancy as much as I could, but I didn’t want Jada finding out about the baby and leaving me. As a matter of fact, nobody knew about Desmon. Not even Kareem. I told Ginger when the time was right, I’d let it be known that I had a son. It’s not like we still kicked it anyway, but lately she’d been putting me to the test. It might have had something to do with this knucklehead married fool she was messing with who recently dumped her, but that’s what she get for playing a fool. All of a sudden she’s so interested in working things out with me. I hadn’t been with her sexually since Jada moved here, but I promised Ginger money to take care of my son and time I was able to spend with him, but that’s it. She wasn’t too happy with it, but ain’t much she could do.

I pulled into Ginger’s raggedy-ass apartment complex a little after one in the afternoon. You’d think with all the money I was dishing out for Desmon she’d save it and move somewhere decent. I guess I couldn’t complain because the inside looked a lot better than it did when I first met her. She at least had sense enough to jazz Desmon’s bedroom up like a four-year-old kid’s bedroom should look.

I rang the doorbell and waited for her to answer. I could hear Desmon crying, so I banged on the door. She opened it with a cordless phone pushed up to her ear and walked away from the door when I stepped inside. Desmon was trying to stick a DVD in the DVD player and was upset because it wouldn’t go in right. I put the DVD in, sat down on the floor next to him, and started to watch Lilo & Stitch, his favorite movie we’d seen at least ten times before. Ginger walked into the other room, whispering on the phone, then came back in the living room puffing on a cigarette. She sat down on the couch behind us and started running her mouth.

“I wish you would call sometimes before coming over here.” She waited for me to respond but I ignored her. “Kiley?” she yelled. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, I heard you, Ginger. But call for what, when I got business over here anyway?”

“For what? What if I have company or something? I don’t want you just showing up making shit difficult for me.”

I turned around and looked at her sitting on the couch. “I don’t give a shit about you having company. All I’m here to do is see my son. If one of your immature-ass boyfriends can’t understand that, then that’s too bad.”

“I know you ain’t calling nobody immature. Your ass—”

“Hey! Don’t disrespect me in front of my son. I’m not in the mood today, Ginger. Why don’t you go clean up or something? Place could really stand a good cleaning, instead of you running your mouth on the phone all the time.” I turned back around.

Ginger came over by the TV and put her cigarette out in the ashtray on top of it. She blew smoke in my face and stepped over Desmon and me sitting on the floor. I wanted to get up and fuck her up but I had already been there too many times before. She was the kind of woman who liked a beat down. Didn’t feel appreciated unless a muh-fucker was busting her upside her head. The last time we got into it, I damn near choked the breath out of her, so now, I did whatever I could to keep the peace. And the best way I knew how was to ignore her.

An hour and a half later, the movie was over. I picked Desmon up off the floor and laid him down on my chest as we rested on the couch. He had fallen asleep and gotten bored with watching the movie; so did I. Ginger tapped me on the shoulder and woke me up asking me to watch Desmon until she came back. I looked at my watch and since it was only five-thirty, I told her I didn’t mind.

Wherever she was going, she looked kinda nice. Had her long, curly braids in a clip and they dangled down her back. The hipster jeans she had on gripped her shapely ass nicely. And her aqua blue stretched shirt was showing her caramel brown shoulders and reflected the hardness in her nipples. Ginger was nice looking, but her attitude and outlook on life was definitely another thing that fucked up our relationship. She stood there for a second, I guess wanting me to ask where she was going, but it seriously wasn’t any of my business. After she realized I wasn’t going to ask, she snatched her purse off the table and left. I picked Desmon up and carried him into his room, then lay back on the couch with my hand behind my head and one foot resting on the floor. I flipped through the channels and tried to find something entertaining. When my phone vibrated, I looked at the number and the call was coming from my house. Knowing that it was Jada by the code she put in, I didn’t answer.

I found a college football game on the tube and started to watch it. Awhile later, the front door squeaked open and it was Ginger coming back through the door.

“Did you forget something?” I asked, looking up at her.

She laid her purse on the table and sat dow. . .