Chapter 1
Haunted
EMPRESS “‘EM” PHILLIPS
Beyoncé said her torturer became her remedy ultimately meaning she went back to what broke her and somehow it healed her. Somehow after all the pain her husband inflicted on her he was able to heal her… to heal what he broke. Maybe I read too deeply into that, shit maybe that wasn’t what sis’ was saying at all. Either way it sounded crazy. It sounded absolutely ludicrous that the source of her pain had anything to do with trying to fix it or mend what he broke. When did men ever try to mend their hack jobs? Besides moving on and telling the next bitch that the ex-bitch is crazy, what else was it? What else could he mend? Not a god-damn thing if you ask me, but no one was asking me. Instead here I was in my shop listening to females go on and on about their niggas like always. Hairdressers knew too much about the nigga troubles. Then instead of realizing that we weren’t therapist they expected us to give input. I had learned long ago that you can’t tell a woman about her man, no matter how obvious it was. Bitches chose to be stupid, and who was I or anybody on the outside to hip them? I was nobody, but the bitch who fried the ends and gave goodconversation, if necessary, but don’t get it twisted… it wasn’t my damn business.
“You heard me, Emp?” the current and one of my oldest customers said attempting to gain my attention.
“No, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” I blinked a few times before I looked through the mirror at her.
“I said I feel like I’ma forever be out here wasting my time because something just ain’t right. It has to be in the water.”
I laughed. “Aren’t you the one always saying love deserves a chance? What happened certified lover girl?”
“Bitch life and these dogs roaming the streets.”
A chuckle escaped my lips. “Understood.”
“What’s up with you, though? I come in here and spill my life to you every two weeks, and then have to bed for a little piece of yours.”
“There’s nothing to tell. Girl, I’m boring and trying to keep my cash flow positive. Niggas bring drama and drama brings distractions. I don’t really have the energy.”
“So, you’ll keep the nigga you’re fucking a secret or another billi?—”
“You are sick. I’m not secretive about anything, I’m just really not out here right now. I’ll tell you when the right fella comes through and dusts the corners.” I laid the last part of her hair, before turning her around to look at me.
Dalla smiled up at me as always before giving me that same look of disbelief. She was right to give it to me because I had been singing that same tune for the last few months. Now I wasn’t fucking on anybody the entire time, but this last year had been me protecting my peace and keeping my choices to myself. They would’ve been the same choices that had people looking at me as crazy as I looked at them. I couldn’t have that and I for sure didn’t feel like hearing either of my siblings’ mouths about my choices. When you came from a big family you learned earlywhat to keep to yourself and what to share. Besides my sister, Ree, and my brother, Irish, neither of my other siblings knew any of my business, because niggas were waiting to judge. Ree only knew because we were so close in age and talked about everything and by everything, I meant literallyeverything.Then Irish only knew because he paid me too much fucking attention.
“What we need to be discussing is you putting me on with one of those fine ass brothers of yours.”
I cackled. “I thought you didn’t do dogs?”
“I don’t, bu?—”
“Exactly. My brothers are dogs, and definitely not what you need.” I turned around to clean my station while she cackled away. She thought I was playing, but I knew my siblings. Neither one of those niggas were ready to playhouse and all grew equally pissed when our grandmother asked when they’d settle down. She asked them all the time, while our father, her son, was still a fucking rolling stone.
“As always you did your shit, beautiful. I’ll see you in a few weeks and maybe then you’ll be willing to give me Irish’s number.” Before I could turn around, she had placed her pay on my table and was on her way out.
“Alright baby, try to keep this one up this time,” I called after her before she reached the front door.
I heard her laughter seconds before the door opened and closed. That was her normal thing, she’d get her hair done and then be out of the door seconds after everything .
“You know she’s on her way to fuck somebody else’s man right now and fuck up yo’ hard work,” my sister’s voice filled the space announcing her presence.
“You’re probably right.” I chuckled because Dalla was definitely that girl. She claimed she didn’t fuck up happy homes, that she spring cleaned apartments. The messed-up thing wasthat she was just complaining about niggas being dogs, but she was one of the fleas.
“So, we’re going to see the fight tonight, right?”
“What fight, Taree?”
She twisted up her face. “You know what fight, but the question is if we’re going to Irish’s place to see the fight where you’re one-hundred percent going to see Benson or are we going someplace where I’ll be able to get a meal?”
I chuckled, because her uppity ass would for sure go to our brother’s place and turn her nose up to everything in there. Then Irish would curse her out for treating him like he’s dirty. Irish was one of my older brothers and a pain in my ass. They called him Irish because out of all five of my father’s children, he was the only one of us with red hair and fucking freckles. The nigga was a ginger, but for some reason my grandmama started calling him Irish and it just stuck.
“Hellooo! Earth to Empress. Pick a place. Do you wanna see your territorial fuck buddy or go somewhere else?”
I turned my face up. I didn’t feel like seeing Benson tonight. Not because the sex wasn’t fulfilling, but because he’d successfully fuck up all my action tonight while flirting with every bitch in the space. I wasn’t jealous, but I didn’t like that shit. Not to mention he had more baby mama drama than a little bit, and I understood it. Kandace had every right to be stalking that nigga because he was hers, but the dick wasn’t even that good for her to be out here busting windows and keying cars. He was a cocky ass nigga which at first, I liked about him, but over the last few encounters that had begun to diminish. He was the type of nigga who had no problem blowing up the spot as long as he got what he wanted in the process. The last time we were both in the same social setting, I think he purposely stayed in my vicinity cock blocking so he could meet me at my house later on.
