21. Cemone

ONE WEEK LATER…

Cameras were already flashing as I stepped out the back seat of the truck, kids already unbuckled and in my arms. I could hear the chorus of gasps and comments as the reporters rushed to the red carpet to ask me questions, and photographers snapped away.

I tried not to shake my head at the thought that people truly believed I wasn't involved with my kids, simply because I didn't sit up on social media arguing with Solene or posting them constantly. I guess niggas forgot I had a whole career, unlike Solene's stupid ass.

Honestly, when with them, I was more focused on actually spending the time instead of taking pictures. The shit wouldn't even cross my mind. However, Yolani had a point that I shouldn't completely disregard what muthafuckas thought if it would hinder my career.

Tonight was one of many LA Bulldogs' charity events, and though I wished I could have Yolani here with me as well, she was at some round table shit for her new movie. I wasn't familiar with that, but she explained she'd be in the room with all the other actors, practicing lines.

"Cemone!" One of the reporters with frowzy blonde hair called out to me, mic all over the rope.

"What's up?" I decided to give her a little something since the bitch had broken out into a sweat, damn near, in order to get to me through the rest of the bustling interviewers.

Smiling, she said, "I see you have your beautiful children here."

"I do." I looked to see Callen and Blakely with their eyes wide, taking in all the ruckus going on. The sight made me chuckle.

"Did you not want to bring their mothers? Maybe make it a family affair?"

I wanted to clown the ho for asking me that shit, already knowing the fucking answer, but I decided to at least try to be the bigger man, show muthafuckas I wasn't ignorant all the time.

"Only women in my life are my mama, my little sister, and Yolani," I simply replied, making the other reporters nearby beam.

"Oh wow." She giggled.

"Hmm… sounds like you kind of love Yolani?" a younger black woman asked me. "The world knows Cemone Compton doesn't do love though, right?" She smiled as her peers stood nearby, on edge and damn near ignoring the other players arriving on the red carpet.

"Nah, that's not the case with this one. That's my best friend, my baby. I definitely love her." I nodded. "Show her this to be sure she gives a nigga the honor of being my wife."

Another chorus of comments, cheers, and people shooting more questions pertaining to my relationship with Yolani sounded off, but I kept it pushing to get inside of the event. I only wanted to show my face to give back and shit, not do interviews which I hated. I only did postgame ones because I was team captain, and it was a part of leading my team and showing up, according to my coach.

As the reporters shifted their focus to some of my teammates and other niggas in varying sports or industries, I stepped inside to take in the well decorated party.

These events were usually never my type of scene, which typically needed to involve half naked bitches, Kush, and music from the likes of Dom Kennedy or anybody from the west, but right now, I was in the right mood for the shit. I didn't feel like swatting off females who thought shit between Yolani and me was a game or something they could infiltrate. I just wanted to kick back, eat, and enjoy my kids.

"Oh my gosh, how cute! If you'd like, they can join the other kids and play for a little while." A skinny white woman with a big ass smile stared at my kids like she wanted to bite their asses.

"It's fine, Compton. Most of the players have their kids over here." Coach Yoder slapped my shoulder with a chuckle as he walked by.

I was gon' ask more questions, but when I noticed Blakely and Callen trying to wiggle free from me, eyes locked on the tiny jungle gym and the other babies, I let their asses go, listening to them babble along.

After watching them for a bit, being sure none of these other sports kids were on bullshit, I made my rounds, speaking to the three niggas I actually fucked with on the team, and nobody else. I didn't mix well with a lot of these celebrity niggas, because they were different. Most weren't even from LA, only cosplaying as natives and being fake as fuck.

"What's up, man? Good to see you with your kids." Ross slowly walked by the table I was at.

Normally, I would've hit the nigga between his eyes and sent his dazed ass into a slumber, but I had my kids and had already gotten arrested back in Hollierville. If there was ever a time for me to act like I had some muthafuckin' act right, now was it.

"You doing a lot for a bitch that was sack chasing while you was at home sleep like a bitch yaself." I bit the chicken wing, not the least bit worried about this nigga starting shit with me physically.

Ross wasn't only a bitch ass nigga mentally; he was physically too. He wouldn't dare start a fight, and you'd probably have to shoot the nigga for him to at least try to defend himself.

"We was broken up." He chuckled mirthlessly, glancing around briefly to see if anyone had heard.

I didn't know why since it was common knowledge that Solene had done his ass dirty.

"Oh, aight. That's what y'all telling people now?" I looked around the room to see some couples dancing on the small ass dance floor to old-head-at-the-barbecue music.

"Nah, it's just the truth." He set his drink down, and I looked at it momentarily, choosing not to be violent yet again. "Solene don't fuck with you like that, but I don't even have to tell you that."

"She don't? I had to damn near threaten to kill her ass for her to leave me the fuck alone, and I only hit once. How many times you got the shit and she still out here only paying you mind when it benefits her?" I wiped the sauce off my fingers. "Must not be in that shit the way you need to be. Maybe you should focus more on pleasing that ho you got for a woman since you not on the field no more." I shrugged, finally giving him eye contact. "Don't say shit else to me for the remainder of this event, muthafucka, unless you want that jaw wired shut." I picked my trash up off the table and walked off.

I could feel Ross watching my back but didn't feel the need to look over my shoulder. I knew it would start and end with a look when it came to a nigga like him.

Ross heeded to my warning and didn't say a mumbling fucking word to me for the next two hours until I left.

Callen was staying with me since it was my time to have him, but Blakely was going back home to her mama since I only had her for the night.

Pulling up into the driveway of Ananda's decked-out ass rental home, I called to let her know I was here with Blakely and couldn't come up since Callen was knocked out in his car seat. My driver was here, but I didn't just leave my kids in the car with muthafuckas unless they were family.

"Hey." Ananda spoke somberly as I handed my baby girl over, kissing her cheek as she slept soundlessly with her cute ass.

"Aight." I was about to close the door, but Ananda put her body in the way.

It was dusk, cold as fuck, but of course, she barely had any fucking clothes on. I hoped she didn't do the shit for me, but as long as she took to bring her ass down, I would've thought she'd had more on with her stupid ass.

"Why did you have to say that in your little interview? I swear, every time I look up, something embarrassing is happening to me on account of you."

"All I said is the only women in my life were my mama, sister, and my girl. If that embarrasses you more than expecting a nigga you had a one-night stand with to give a fuck about you, then I don't know what the fuck to tell you."

"See, I'm cordial with you, but maybe I should pull a Solene and get in that ass since I can't get any respect."

"Do what you wanna do, Ananda. I don't give a fuck." I chuckled at the fact that she actually believed I cared about her or any fucking thing she did that didn't involve Blakely.

"I get that I was a one-night stand, but why we can't even be cool?"

"'Cause you don't wanna be cool. You wanna get fucked and tricked on, but that shit ain't happening. Cool don't mean sending me pussy pics and trying to get Chanel for not causing me no fucking problems on the internet, Ananda."

"Okay, and I don't get why we can't have sex, either. It's like you don't even try to fuck with me. Why don't you? Like, you clearly thought I was cute when we met. What happened?"

"I don't know you to wanna fuck with you, and I don't have an interest in changing that shit. Move." I tried to close the door.

"You like Yolani, why? Because she's rich and famous?"

"Yeah, that makes sense. I must be a broke ass unknown nigga, huh?" I shot her a look then laughed. "Nah, because if I was, I wouldn't even know yo' ass, would I?"

"Whatever."

"Learn to understand that sometimes a nigga don't fuck with you like that. I love Yolani because I just do. Soon as I met her, I knew that was me. Soon as I met you, I saw a quick nut. I was willing to drop and change whatever for her whereas for you, I wasn't even willing to coerce you out some pussy if you wasn't willing already. See the difference?"

She sucked her teeth, glancing off and trying not to cry with her crybaby ass.

"Anyway, I am having a half birthday for Blakely since she will be one and a half."

"Have fun."

"I would like you to come."

"No." I shut the door on her ass and told the driver to pull off, to which he did.

My phone lit up with Ananda's name, and I quickly hit ignore.

I knew Ananda only wanted me to attend for a photo opportunity. Everything with her and Solene was about bragging rights and shit to their little slut circle. Ananda wanted us to look familial at a birthday party to shove it in her friends' faces, including Solene. But I'd already explained birthday parties would be held separately, and what the fuck was a half birthday, anyway? Them bitches stayed coming up with ways to spend money yet wondered why despite stripping and bringing in fifteen grand a month in child support, they were broke as fuck.

Many times, Solene and Ananda had come to me claiming Blakely or Callen needed some shit, and soon as I would offer to go to the source and pay, it would be crickets. Anything else outside of that fifteen would have to be bought or procured by me. I wasn't shelling out an extra dime on faith.

They stayed angry because I wasn't like these other niggas out here, sampling the pussy still and splurging on their asses. I barely talked to them hos, and it was obvious which, in turn, embarrassed them I'd gathered.

Ananda: Please come. Blakely needs to see us together.

Me: I ain't see my parents together for years and I'm just fine, Ananda. Cut the bullshit. It ain't even her actual birthday.

Shaking my head, I pocketed my phone, on edge and waiting to see my baby.

I sat in the audience, Yolani's empty seat next to me since she was about to perform. Some rap nigga and Yolani were called to do a tribute performance, and a part of me felt uneasy. The nigga smiled too fucking much when asked about the upcoming show, but Yolani told me she explicitly explained to him not to touch her inappropriately, and I hoped he listened because I couldn't promise not to turn the fuck up on his ass.

The lights lowered, and everyone in the audience cheered for a second, then got quiet. Spotlights trickled on, before Yolani came up from under the stage in some sexy ass outfit that sparkled more than the fucking lights. She was beautiful, sounded good, and looked good as she moved around the stage like it was hers to keep. She was impressive as fuck, and I tried my best not to act like the bitch on Five Heartbeats that got to hyperventilating, but baby girl surely had her nigga's dick on brick mode.

As she moved past the front where I was seated, she shot me a wink that I knew was for me but went perfectly with the performance.

Old boy came out, rapping his part with his eyes right on Yolani. She smiled, coming near him as the performance called for, but when she turned away, he grabbed her ass quickly before finishing out his verse.

I felt a few people look my way, trying to gauge a nigga's reaction, and it took everything in me not to pounce up on that stage like an enraged spider monkey and rock that nigga, but I stayed chill.

Yolani was a true professional, making it look as if that was a part of the show, but if you knew her like I did, you'd catch the slight irritation in her pretty face and the way she kept just the right amount of seemingly unnoticeable distance from that nigga the rest of the performance.

As the lights went down once it was over, I got up and headed backstage, wanting to find out if the nigga bumped his muthafuckin' head or what.

"Aye, Chop." I called out to him, seeing him stand in the midst of his crew.

"Cemone, what's up?" He wore a knowing smirk, stepping away from his people as I neared.

"Kill the snarky shit 'fore I slap that smile off ya face, nigga." I stopped.

"Nigga, what?" He tried to play hard.

"I said smile again on some funny shit and watch me slap the shit out you."

I only came back here to press this nigga, but seeing him smile and shit, trying to be funny when he knew he had no business grabbing on a damn near married fucking woman, had me on some other shit.

Ashamed, he looked back at his boys and grinned, chuckling a little bit as if this scenario were a joke. Therefore, when he turned back to face me, I sent my fist to the middle of his face. One of his boys caught him, but none of them niggas made a move to come handle shit for him.

"Got damn!" someone shouted.

"Oh my gosh!" Yolani rushed up.

"Apologize for being disrespectful, nigga." I yanked his shirt collar, tugging him from his boys' grip.

Dazed and confused, he mumbled a bit, so I patted his cheek roughly.

"It's fine, Cemone," Yolani whimpered.

"Say it, nigga."

"I'm so-sorry, Yolani," he finally got out, lids looking like a whip with hydraulics.

I dropped him as Yolani switched off, and followed right behind her, stopping her from closing the dressing room door on me.

As soon as I got in, she hollered, "Why did you do that!"

"You know why." I leaned against the counter, calm and collected. "He had no business touching you, especially when you asked his bitch ass not to."

"So you're gonna do this every time something like this happens?"

"Yep." I nodded, nonchalantly eating one of the dried strawberries from the trail mix she always requested on her rider.

"Well then, I'm done with you!"

"You ain't done with shit! Sit yo' ass down and cool off 'fore I heat the fuck up!" I leaned up off the counter covered with makeup and hair shit.

"Oh, I am done, nigga. Watch." She started throwing shit into her big ass Chanel bag that she used to carry toiletries and shit. "Find me somebody else!" she added to piss me off.

"Give me a reason to act up even more on these niggas, Yolani. You may think you gon' be with another nigga, but it ain't happening. Muthafucka gon' have to murk me first, and I doubt you gon' find a nigga that's 'bout it enough." I watched her move around the room for a second, her eyebrow up like she knew some shit I didn't. "This shit between us is as real as it gets. This ain't no fake celebrity image shit. We in love like a muthafucka, but if you can leave me and not think twice, I must be reading shit wrong."

"Maybe you are."

"Aight." I started for the door, and she paused before running to block it so I wouldn't open it.

"I was just talking shit! I was just talking shit!" She splayed her arms over the door then hugged my torso. "I'm not done. I just wanted to piss you off since you were so lackadaisical."

"I know." I watched as she tried to coax me into a kiss. I, of course, fell in line, bending some to peck her soft ass mouth, squeezing her plump ass in the process.

When I picked her up, she squealed, smiling against my lips. Walking to the couch, I sat down and adjusted her in my lap.

"It was just an on-stage thing." She toyed with my beard.

"Yeah, but you told that nigga not to touch you, and he did the shit. On top of that, he know what's up with me and you, and that shit was disrespectful."

"Hmm."

"So if I decided to be in a video for one of these bitches and told them not to touch me but they grabbed my dick in the video, it's aight?" I posed.

She turned her nose up in response before sucking her teeth.

"No, I would be pissed." She watched me. "Someone asked you to be in a video?"

"Few times, but I ain't really the music video type of nigga. Plus, I felt like it would be weird for me to be in their shit when I ain't in yours."

"Who asked you?"

"Why?" I laughed.

"Because I wanna know what bitches been asking you to be in a video but then sending me messages and commenting on how cute we are."

"It's just work shit, right? Like him grabbing on ya ass." I caressed her smooth thighs.

"No, it isn't, because them bitches are hoping y'all hit it off on set and then fuck after."

"And you think that nigga wasn't testing the waters by grabbing on you?"

"Maybe so." She hugged my neck. "You say I can't leave you, but you were just about to leave."

"Nah, I was about to go hit that muthafucka again for causing us to argue and shit," I replied, and she giggled.

"You hit him hard enough. I thought he was dying or something. What did you do?"

"That between the eyes shot will do that shit to you." I winked and she smiled. "But I been told you I wasn't going nowhere. I don't give a fuck about them lil temper tantrums, Yolani." I touched her soft ass hair. "You'll be good in about," I checked my Rolex, "two hours."

"What's happening in two hours?"

"Taking you to eat and then letting you sit on it."

Leaning into me, she kissed me, sucking my bottom lip.

"I love food, and I especially love your dick." She chuckled and I followed suit. "It's so perfect and gives me the most intense orgasms." She spoke softly, small hand grazing over the crotch of my Amiri jeans.

"Give me some credit. That nigga ain't the only one doing all that."

"True," she said quickly before we kissed harder, her straddling my lap and slipping her tongue into my mouth.

We sat there kissing until we couldn't do the shit anymore, then I took my baby to get some dinner, dessert, and dick.