Spin, p.7
Spin, page 7
The things that I knew about Steel was pretty much things that most of the world knew about him. I remember it making the news a few years ago about his wife’s passing. She was pregnant, and someone had ran her off the road, killing her right there on the scene. To know that the baby that she was carrying when that accident happened was standing just a few feet away from me, and he was alive, and just as healthy as he wanted to be was a blessing. I vividly remember seeing pictures of her being broadcasted when her death took place, and God she was beautiful. Their son looked just like her. Now, the daddy…... My God, the damn daddy put the f in fine! Being from Miami, I’ll admit that it wasn’t rare to run into your fair share of fine men. I mean, this was the city for dreads, gold teeth, and tattoos, so you can leave your house at any time of the day and run into something handsome out here, but Steel was a different kind of fine. I’ve always saw him on TV, in the blogs, and things like that, but I have never seen this man in person, which was crazy because we were from the same city.
Steel was the kind of fine where if you were dating him, you had to come with high self- esteem already because his face alone could make any bitch self- conscious. I want to start with this nigga’s face before I give the full run down on him. I mean, everything about his face was perfect. The little bit of freckles that I could see he had, his eyebrows were perfectly thick, his nose was the perfect shape for his face, and those lips…. ladies, I know those lips could do damage when he eats pussy. They were nice, full, and pink. I wasn’t sure if he smoked weed, but if he did, you certainly couldn’t tell in his lips.
His beard was full, and it was healthy. Steel was tall. If I had to guess his height, no exaggeration, he had to be at least 6’6. He was solid, making it clear how he’d even gotten the nickname Steel in the first place. I usually didn’t care for all the tattoos on men, but I swear I would give his fine ass a pass because those tattoos were made for his body. Just like his son, he had his nerve coming in here with a white wife beater on, and you could see both full arm tattoo sleeves that he had, and even the ones that were on his neck. His neck tattoo spelled out ‘Steel’, and after each letter, there was a space. Because I could see his hands from here too, I saw that there was a portrait of his son as a baby on his right hand, and on his left hand, there was something else, that I couldn’t quite make out from where I was. There were Nike shorts on him, and the shorts weren’t too long, but they also weren’t too short. It was just enough to show off his firm, muscular thighs, and legs. He was in running shoes, and everything about him just looked so clean, and well put together. Fuckin around with a nigga that looked like him, there would be no pussy left because I swear, he would get pussy around the clock from me! Everything that I was saying about this man wasn’t me embellishing. He really was that fine, and I needed his parents number to personally call them, and express my gratitude for even blessing us with the privilege to see a look of perfection like that.
From where I sat, I could see where his number was called, and he had his baby boy walk to the front and get his food, and his handsome self thanked the worker, and they were out the door. Shortly after that, Brooklyn’s number was called, and she grabbed her food, thanked the worker as well, and she headed over to me. I stood up, and we walked out of the restaurant together.
“Yeah, my phone died as soon as I walked inside,” Brooklyn let me know once we were outside, but I didn’t respond because remember that cybertruck that I was talking about that was parked right next to me? It belonged to Steel. He had the back door open, assisting his son with getting inside, and because he had it open, I wasn’t able to get to my side, and open my door.
By this time, I had already unlocked the door, and Brooklyn had got inside already. I stood there, fidgeting with my hands, not really knowing what to say, or do. To know me is to know that I wasn’t shy around niggas at all. I have my way with them, and there wasn’t a piece of a shy bone in my body, but for whatever crazy reason, I was standing here, looking goofy, feeling frozen.
He must have felt me standing there because as he was leaned inside of the car, he turned his head, and he looked over at me. Usually, when men got a first glimpse of fine ass Toni, I could see it in their eyes where they would do a double take, but he stared at me like I was just some regular, random bitch. I didn’t even see a gleam or anything in this eyes. Mind you, I had my good dress on too. The one that landed me a bunch of compliments today. Talk about being humbled because that’s exactly what he’d just done.
“My bad. You need to get by?” he asked me in that deep voice. I swear I dripped wetness at the sound of him talking to me. You would have thought that we were in the middle of a sexual act, and this man had just talked me through a nut, the way I found myself getting hot, and the hairs on my back stood up.
“Yeah. I’m right there,” was all I could think of to say, using my finger to point to my car. He nodded his head, closed the back door, and he stepped out of the way, so that I could have space to walk past, and open the door. With him standing just a few inches away, I got a whiff of his scent, and my God, he smelled good. I could smell bergamot, mixed with lemon. I loved perfumes, and colognes, so I had a distinctive nose when it came to that.
Before I got into my car, I turned to look at him.
“Thank you,” was all I could say.
“You good,” was his response, leaving my jaw on the floor. This man didn’t look at my ass or anything! He didn’t compliment me! He didn’t even try to ask me for my number. I was appalled!
The second that I got in the house, in the privacy of my own bedroom, I was going to have a fight with the air, and I was going to beat her ass! I have never in my life been humbled in this way. I was usually the type to not have a filter, or pride when it came to my girls, telling them everything, but even I was way too prideful to let know that I’d run into the Zion Perkins, and homeboy didn’t break his neck to look at me.
Wow! Shocking.
THREE
ZION ‘STEEL’ PERKINS
“Why you make yourself suffer like this when you get your hair washed, and shit? You know I can cut it off, and all you gotta worry about is getting it cut every couple of weeks and getting a fresh line up. You don’t want me to cut it?” I asked my son, after he just showed his ass during the process of me washing his hair. I did him the old-fashioned way, where I had him lay on his back on the kitchen counter, and I washed his hair in the sink. Shit, when I found out that I was going to be a daddy, nothing prepared me for the moments when I would be the one washing my sons hair. I thought that this would be Sapphire’s job. If I had a boy, I thought that all I would be responsible for was cutting his hair because I didn’t think that he would have all of this hair on his head like this.
My son didn’t cry a lot. Only time he would get in his feelings and start crying about some shit is when he was angry, but mannnn, when he had to get his hair washed, he would be on this kitchen counter, cutting up, shedding angry tears.
“You said that mommy used to say that when she was pregnant with me, and if she had a boy, that she would want me to grow my hair out. That’s why I don’t want to cut it,” he said with blood shot red eyes from all the crying that he’d just finished doing.
There were still tears falling from his eyes, and he was using both of his hands to wipe them away. He was shirtless, and just in a pair of Ralph Lauren shorts that stopped just before his knees. A pair of white, high knees socks were on his feet, as he stood there with the towel wrapped around his wet hair. His ass was getting ready to hate me some more because now I had to blow dry this shit out, so that it could be prepped and ready for my mama, who was coming later, and was getting ready to braid it for him.
In two days, I was taking him to The University of Miami, where they were having a football training camp out there, so I wanted my lil man’s braids to be nice, and fresh for that.
“And I understand that, but if you going to cut up like this every time you get your hair washed, then son it’s not worth it. You going to be just as handsome if I cut your hair off,” I let him know, really trying to convince him to just go ahead, and let me chop it off for him, and I would give him a nice curly taper or some shit. I could put up with a lot of things in parenthood, but fighting with his ass on hair wash day was some shit that I couldn’t do.
“Ion want to cut it,” he finalized his answer.
“Alright then. Stop with all that damn crying,” I let him know, and he just nodded his head. We went over into the family room, where I carried one of the barstools over from the island, so that he could sit right there, and play his game, while I stood behind him, sectioned his hair, and blow dried it out for him.
The second that I was getting ready to start, someone started ringing the doorbell. I knew that it wasn’t my mama because I had about another hour until it was time for her to come. Digging inside of the joggers that I was wearing, I pulled my phone out my pocket, checking the camera footage, and I saw that it was my god brother, Khari at the door. I shook my head because it was just like this nigga to pop up at my crib, unannounced and shit.
I saw that he was holding a few bags in his hands, so it looked like he was coming over with lunch or something.
“Hold on. That’s Khari at the door,” I let Zayne know, and he didn’t even respond because he was too busy with the controller in his hands and focused on the game that he was playing on the TV.
There was a PS5 that was down here, and one of the many ways that my son and I bonded was by playing the game together. I wouldn’t spare his ass either, just because he was a kid. I would sit there, and beat the fuck out of him in Madden, while he would be sitting back, crying angry tears, pissed that he couldn’t whip me. I was just building his little ass up. Trying to make him stronger.
I walked over to the massive Mahogany, modern style double doors that I had, and I swung it open for Khari. When he saw me, he flashed a smile, showing me the diamonds that were shining in his mouth because of the grillz that he had. Looking at this nigga, and seeing the big chain around his neck, the flashy bracelets on his wrist, the gold teeth, even the outfit that he wore, you would think that he was a rapper or some shit, but nah. My god brother was a real street nigga, playing his part in the dope game, and that money always showed on him. That sick, Ferrari spider that he had pulled up in my driveway was a prime example of the money that he was making. Skinny nigga, but he had heart of someone that was three times his size. As gangsta as he was, and as much as I knew that he would catch a body in a heartbeat, he was soft as hell when it came to his mama, his children, and any other women in his life that he loved. Notice I said ‘women he loved’ because if it was just a random bitch out here that he was fuckin, Lord knows that he was known for rolling them through the mud. That explained all the kids that he had. I’ll give it to him, though. He took care of his children, made sure that all his baby mama’s were taken care of, so with that, none of them had him on child support.
“You going to get enough of popping your ass up over here unannounced, nigga,” was the first thing that I said to him, and like what I said was comical to him, he started laughing.
“It’s not like you got some fine shit walking around here half naked. We all know that you don’t bring bitches to the spot,” he responded.
“And neither should you bring random bitches where you lay your head,” I let him know, stepping back, so that he could walk inside of the house.
Once he was inside, I stepped onto the porch, and I walked my massive driveway, going over to Khari’s Ferrari that was parked. This was my first time seeing it in person. He only had it for about a week now, but we’ve both been busy, so he didn’t have the time to pull up on me and show it to me in person. I walked around the car, and I rubbed my hands together like Birdman. This shit was sick! I was a car man. I loved all kinds of cars, but sports cars had my heart. Depression that I battled for the first few years of being without my wife, had me spending reckless money, and you could see the evidence in my fleet of cars that I had in my driveway. I fucked with electric cars, so there was my cybertruck that I mainly pushed, and there was my black Mustang Mach- E that was an electric vehicle as well. I fucked with pickup trucks too, so I also had a black Ford F-150 in my driveway. For fun, there was the Chevrolet Corvette ZRI, the black Lamborghini Urus, which was my son’s favorite car, and my gray Porsche 911. When I wanted to step out, and be on some classy shit, I would pull out the white Bentley Bentayga or the Mercedes Benz AMG GT.
It didn’t matter how many cars I had, or this nice ass, newly built modern home that I lived in with my son, this still didn’t give me complete happiness.
“That bitch sexy than a motha fucka, huh?” Khari asked me, standing inside of the house, holding the bags of food in his hands.
“Hell yeah. I may have to take her for a spin,” I told him, and he sat the food down on the table near the front door, reached in his pocket, and he threw me the keys. I was able to catch it with my right hand, unlocked the doors, and I fell in love with the inside. The yellow and black interior on this car was sick. Because I was such a car man, it was only right that I hopped inside, and I started the car up because I wanted to hear it rumble when it started, and rumbled is exactly what it did. I smiled proudly, loving the sound of the engine, and then I shut it off, and I walked back inside of the house, where my god brother was, and I slapped it up with him, while handing him back his keys.
“I fuck with it. That shit hard. What Goddy ma said about it?” I asked, wanting to know how his mama felt, and he smiled.
“She fuck with it. I took her out to breakfast yesterday, and she rode in the passenger seat. You know she was hollering at me every five minutes, telling me to slow the fuck down though,” he voiced, and because I knew how dramatic her ass was, I knew that he was spot on with what he was telling me.
“I picked up food, and I decided to pull up on you. Where my lil man at?” he asked.
“He in the family room. I just finished washing his hair. I’m getting ready to blow it out,” I replied, and it made him laugh, so I already knew that he was getting ready to say some bullshit.
“The fuckin undefeated, heavy weight champ really be in this bitch washing hair and giving blow outs and shit. Steel, I know it’s a thousand bitches that want to suck your dick, nigga. You mean to tell me that you not feeling none of them, and you not ready to have them move in this bitch, and play step mama, so that they can do all this domestic shit for you? By me asking you this, you know damn well that I mean no disrespect towards Sapphire. I loved that girl for you. I truly believed that God planted her on earth just for you, but Ion think she would have wanted you out here single, and suffering,” he said, sounding like everybody else in my life. I didn’t take offense to people telling me that I needed to move on. I knew that they were only saying it out of love, so I didn’t get upset when they said it.
“Who the fuck said I’m single, and suffering? Single? Yeah, but I’m not suffering by a long shot. I could go out and get ten girlfriends right now if I wanted to, but I’m just not on that kind of timing. Don’t come in here starting with that shit. I’ll put your ass out, and make you leave the food,” I shot, and he laughed, while throwing his hands up in surrender, like he didn’t want any smoke with me.
I led the way into the family room, and while I was doing that, Khari was right behind me. I wasn’t one of those people that had a bunch of rules in the house, so I didn’t mind us eating in the family room. He knew that too, which is why he came into the family room, holding the food in his hands, and he took it over to the small table that was in the middle. He turned his head, so that he could look at Zayne, and when he did that, he shook his head at him.
“Soft ass still be crying to get your hair washed. If I was your daddy, I would have been shaved all that shit off your head,” Khari fucked with my son, just like I knew he would. The two of them had a good relationship. Khari would have jokes for days with Zayne, and I know that played it’s part in why my son loved him so much. Zayne held Khari to the same standard as he held me, wanting Khari at all of his football games, and any time that he would have a talent show or something at school, he would be quick to hit Khari, telling him that he wanted him at his show. They’ve had this nice bond since Zayne was a baby, and I knew that it was something that my son truly cherished.
“Yeah, whatever. Watch out,” Zayne responded back, sounding like a grown man.
“Let me go wash my hands, and then I’ll fix your plate. Before I leave, Ima whoop your ass on that game, make you cry some more,” Khari gloated. Like Zayne didn’t even hear him, he went back to playing the game. I started using the detangling products that my mama had told me about, spraying it throughout my sons hair, getting ready to put his hair in sections, so that I could blow it out. Khari came back in the room, wanting to know if I needed him to fix me a plate of food, but I let him know that I was good for now, and I went to working on my son’s hair.
Ten minutes into my blowing him out, my phone started ringing in my sweats that I was wearing. I turned the blow dryer off, and I pulled my phone out, looking at the name on the screen. It was Kioni. Kioni was from Paris, and she was a big-time model out there. Granted, she was big worldwide, but in her city, they really fucked with her out there. She was a beautiful, black woman, and her and I met about a year ago at a club here in Miami. She’d come down to walk in one of those big fashion shows that Miami would offer in the summertime, and after she finished working, her, and some of her girls had come out to the club. I wasn’t the clubbing type, but on this specific night, we were out, celebrating Khari. Shit worked out in his business, where he started doing business with a new plug that was based out of Cuba, so he took his team out to celebrate, and because he damn near begged me to come, I pulled up. I went there with no intentions of meeting someone, and following her back to her hotel, and fuckin that same night, but that’s what happened with me, and Kioni. Kioni was cool people, and whenever she was in town, she would hit me, letting me know that, so I’m sure that’s the reason why she was calling me right now.
