Luvin him wasnt enough, p.1
Luvin' Him Wasn't Enough, page 1
Luvin’ Him Wasn’t Enough
Racquel Williams
www.urbanbooks.net
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
PROLOGUE - Amoy Simpson
CHAPTER ONE - Amoy Simpson
CHAPTER TWO - Amoy
CHAPTER THREE - Amoy
CHAPTER FOUR - Amoy
CHAPTER FIVE - Amoy
CHAPTER SIX - Kennedy
CHAPTER SEVEN - Amoy
CHAPTER EIGHT - Kennedy
CHAPTER NINE - Amoy
CHAPTER TEN - Shari
CHAPTER ELEVEN - Amoy
CHAPTER TWELVE - Kennedy
CHAPTER THIRTEEN - Shari
CHAPTER FOURTEEN - Amoy
CHAPTER FIFTEEN - Kennedy
CHAPTER SIXTEEN - Shari
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Amoy
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - Kennedy
CHAPTER NINETEEN - Shari
CHAPTER TWENTY - Shari
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - Amoy
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO - Shari
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - Amoy
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - Amoy
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - Amoy
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - Amoy
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - Amoy
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - Kennedy
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE - Amoy
CHAPTER THIRTY - Amoy
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE - Kennedy
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - Amoy
Urban Books, LLC
300 Farmingdale Road, N.Y.-Route 109
Farmingdale, NY 11735
Luvin’ Him Wasn’t Enough
Copyright © 2024 Racquel Williams
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without prior consent of the Publisher, except brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
ISBN: 978-1-6455-6577-2
ISBN 13: 978-1-64556-577-2
EBOOK ISBN: 978-1-64556-578-9
This is a work of fiction. Any references or similarities to actual events, real people, living or dead, or to real locales are intended to give the novel a sense of reality. Any similarity in other names, characters, places, and incidents is entirely coincidental.
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
First and foremost, I will continue to give all praises to Allah. This has definitely been a journey, and I’m forever grateful that He keeps on blessing me.
To my readers, too many to name: I really appreciate the support y’all have shown me since the very first book. You all are the real MVP, and I hope that I can continue to live up to y’all’s standard. I love y’all for real.
PROLOGUE
Amoy Simpson
I learned a long time ago that if I, Amoy Simpson, wanted something out of life, I had to go after it. See, I wasn’t your regular bitch who sat on her ass hoping that shit was going to happen, and I damn sure wasn’t going to sit around waiting on no damn check every first of the month.
I was born and raised in Mount Vernon, New York, otherwise known as Money Earnin’ Mount Vernon. I grew up in an apartment building on the corner of East Third Street and Fourth Avenue. In my hood, there were hustlers slinging them rocks or dealing powder, and the bitches stayed on their grind either selling pussy or boosting hair bundles or designer clothes.
I spent most of my days hanging on the basketball court, watching the guys play, or hanging with my friends on Fourth Avenue. I hated living at home with my ol’ trifling-ass mama. See, this bitch gave me life, and for that I was grateful, but other than that, her ass wasn’t worth shit. I thought that bitch only had us so that she could get the government checks, which, by the way, we didn’t get a dime of. She would buy food when the food stamps first hit her card, and then she would sell the rest to the dope boys in exchange for crack. She tried her best to hide the fact that she was a crackhead, but I wasn’t no fool. At the age of 15, I found out after I walked in on her smoking that shit. She tried to convince me that it wasn’t what I thought it was, but I brushed that off and walked out of the bathroom.
Over time, her behavior got worse. She started bringing different niggas home at all times of the night. I was old enough to deal with the shit, but I felt bad for my little sister, Shari. Her room was closest to Mama’s room, and she was often awakened by moans and groans from that bitch and them tricks. That bitch didn’t respect herself, and she damn sure didn’t respect her daughters.
I started fucking early due to the fact that Mama never bought me clothes, soap, or even tampons for that matter. Most of the clothes my sister and I had were hand-me-downs from the Salvation Army or Goodwill. That kind of shit caused us to get teased, which resulted in me getting into fights, and I was finally expelled from Mount Vernon High School.
If I thought getting kicked out of school was bad, I had a rude awakening coming up.
“Amoy! Amoy!” I heard Mama yelling my name.
I grabbed my cell phone and checked the time. Damn, it’s only 7:30 in the fucking morning. What the hell does this woman want?
“I know damn well you hear me calling your ass. Ain’t no sleeping in my house after seven. Your ass needs to get up out of the bed. Your grown behind didn’t want to stay in school, so you need to get a damn job!” she yelled.
“I told you I was going to look for a job. Now can you quit yelling and close my door?”
“Your door? Little bitch, this is my motherfucking house. You’re grown now, so yo’ ass can definitely sell some pussy to help pay these bills up in here. Ain’t no need for you to be out there, lying on your back, fucking these random-ass niggas, and not getting paid,” she said with a smirk on her face.
I looked at this bitch. She sounded stupid as fuck. Did this bitch just tell her child to sell her pussy to help her pay the bills?
“You know what? You are a poor excuse for a mother. How dare you talk to me like that?” I asked in a disgusted manner.
“Watch your mouth, you slut. I brought you in this world, and I damn sure will take you out of it. Don’t think because your pussy is growing a little hair on it that you can talk to me like you’ve lost your damn mind.”
Blap. Blap. Blap.
She slapped me in my face three times. My face started burning, and tears welled up in my eyes.
I grabbed her hand and pushed her ass back with force. “I hate you with everything in me. I wish you would fucking die, bitch.” I stared her dead in the eyes.
She stood there, looking shocked. After a few seconds, she turned around and walked out of my room.
I locked my door and jumped into my bed. I pulled the cover over my head and started crying. I wasn’t crying because that bitch had hit me or talked crazy to me. I had been going through that my whole life. I cried because I was tired of this fucked-up life, and I wanted more. I cried until I dozed off into a fantasy world, which was easier to deal with.
CHAPTER ONE
Amoy Simpson
I was fast, but I wasn’t no dummy. I decided to go to night classes so I could get my GED. I knew it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. I also did it to prove to Mama that I wasn’t the “worthless bitch” she often called me. My goal was to save up enough money to try to go to college. If it was the last thing I did, I would prove this bitch wrong.
At the age of 18, I was eager to get the fuck on. I didn’t need that bitch’s permission because I was grown. Over the years, I had gained some experience by braiding the dope boys’ hair and the chicks who needed their hair braided. I didn’t have a cosmetology license, but I had to admit, I was a beast with my hands. I could braid any length hair and do any style my customers wanted. I hooked it up. My homeboy knew my skills and offered me a job in his barbershop on Third Street.
The money that I made at the shop wasn’t a lot, but it was enough to help me get by. I managed to rent a room in a rooming house. I wasn’t fussy. I just needed something clean.
I woke up with a heavy heart because I had to leave my sister behind. I wished there was a way I could get her away from this evil bitch, but she was only 16. The bitch was getting a welfare check from the State, and I knew she wasn’t going to give that up.
I knocked on my sister’s door and went in. She was sitting up in her bed, listening to music. Whenever you saw my sister, best believe she had some headphones on her head. I thought she used music to block out all the bullshit that was going on in her life.
“What’s up, sis?”
I sat on the edge of the bed. I took her hand and rubbed it. “Baby, you know I keep telling you that I can’t wait to leave this hellhole. Well, today is that day. I’m leaving.”
She looked at me strangely. “Sissy, you can’t leave me here with her.” She snatched her hand away from me.
“Listen to me, Shari. I’ve got to go so I can make a life and come back for you. I’m a phone call away and over on the next block. You know I got you.” I grabbed her and pulled her to me. I hugged her tight. I really didn’t want to leave. I wiped the tears from her eyes
“Love you too,” she managed to say.
I got up off her bed and walked out of her room. I was tearing up on the inside and couldn’t hold it in any longer. My little sister was my heart and the only person who could make me shed a tear. I walked into my room and grabbed the plastic bags of clothes I owned. The cab I had called earlier was outside, honking its horn.
I was about to open the front door when I was stopped in my tracks. “You think you’re grown now, bitch? Trust me, your stanking ass will be back, beggin’ Mama to take you in. You goin’ to always need me, you little slut.”
I turned around to face her. I was about to address her, but I shook my head and opened the door. She was still hollering some shit, but I was gone. I put the bags into the cab, and it pulled off.
That day, a new woman was born. I was a force to be reckoned with, and no one was exempt. I was that bitch!
This was my first time alone, so I was nervous. I couldn’t sleep, so I lay awake most of the night. I kept replaying Mama’s evil words in my head. Even though I was lonely and kind of scared, I sucked it up and put my big girl panties on. I was determined not to grant her her wishes. She would never have to say, “I told you so.”
CHAPTER TWO
Amoy
I’d been out of her house for about three months. and if I said it was easy, my ass would be lying. I busted my ass at the barbershop every day, trying to make sure I could pay for my room every Friday. Sometimes I would work ten or more hours, depending on how late the shop stayed open.
My hard work was finally paying off, because I had saved up enough money to move out of the rooming house and get a one-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t no big, pretty apartment, but it was enough for me.
I didn’t believe in coincidences, so when I met Devon, it was definitely in the making. I was at work one day at the shop when this tall brown-skinned brother with dreads walked in. I was doing another dude’s hair, but my focus was more on the stranger who had walked in. He had some big brown eyes that seemed like they could see through my soul. I tried to break my stare, but I was unsuccessful.
“May I help you?” said Janice, the receptionist, breaking my stare.
I was kind of embarrassed and hoped he didn’t notice. I went back to taking care of business, but I was still being nosy.
“Yes, I need to get my dreads washed and retwisted.”
“Well, you came to the right place. Sign in right here and have a seat.”
I pretended like I didn’t see Janice walking toward my booth. After all, I was the only braider in here, so who else was going to take care of this stranger’s dreads?
“Well, love, you can stop staring right now.” She burst out laughing.
“Girl, bye. What are you talking about?” I played stupid.
“Mm-hmm. I saw how you were staring him down.”
“What’s he trying to get done?” I said, trying to get off the subject.
“He wants a wash and twist.”
“Okay, I’ve got him after I’m finished with this guy.” I smiled at her.
She shot me a dirty look and walked off. I took a second to regroup.
After I was finished with my client’s head, he paid me and left. I washed my hands and walked over to where the stranger was sitting.
“Hello, my name is Amoy. Please follow me.”
“Whaddup, B?” he greeted me in a sexy, sultry voice.
He followed me and took a seat in the chair. I took the hair holder out of his dreads and shampooed his locks. I stared down on his face as he closed his eyes. I started feeling tingling between my legs, but I ignored the feeling and continued doing my job.
I finished washing his hair and dried it with a towel.
“Come on over here.”
“Your wish is my command.”
I smiled but remained quiet. I knew he was trying to flirt with me, but I didn’t want to come off as being thirsty, so I played it cool. We exchanged a few words, nothing major.
“Look in the mirror and tell me if you like it.”
He stood up and looked around into the mirror. He had a fresh lineup, which made him look extra sexy.
“You did a good job, B. How much is it?” he inquired.
“It’s sixty dollars. You can pay the receptionist.”
“A’ight, bet. See you, shawty.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at him while I turned away to clean up my work area.
I still tried to peek at him through the corners of my eyes. He paid Janice, said something to her, and walked out.
I watched as she hurried toward me, smiling like she had just won the lottery.
“Girl, what did you say to his ass?”
“What are you talking about now?” I was getting tired of her nosy ass for real.
“Hmm, here you go. Looks like the nigga is checking for your ass.” She handed me a $100 bill with a white piece of paper.
“What’s this for?”
“That nigga said that’s your tip, and he left his number for you.”
“What? I don’t need his money.” I behaved like I was shocked.
“Child, you better take this money and take this paper so you can call that nigga. A nigga throwing money at you without even knowing you is a keeper. Why y’all chicks always get lucky?” She rolled her eyes.
I snatched the money out of her hand, along with the paper. I stared down at the number that was jotted down.
“Thank you, boo,” I said. That was her cue to scram, which she did.
I sat down to rest my feet and to let my mind wander around a little. Who was this dude? This was my first time seeing him around here. Whoever he was, I could tell he had a few dollars. I grabbed my phone, put the number in, then put Potential Boo and pressed Save.
Another client walked in, and it was back to the money. But who was I fooling? I couldn’t get this stranger out of my head. I wasn’t really looking for a man—or was I? Anyway, back to the situation at hand. I could definitely use some good fucking and sucking. Shit, I felt my pussy tingling as the thought left my mind and took control of my body.
After braiding five heads and retwisting ol’ boy’s dreads, I was done for the night. I cleaned up my work area and left.
“Girl, don’t forget to call him,” Janice yelled out with her big-ass mouth.
I waved her off because I didn’t have the energy to entertain her ass.
I was tired as hell and hungry. I stopped at the Golden Krust on Fourth Avenue and grabbed me a bite and then headed home. I was starving, so I dug into the Jamaican beef patty and coco bread and took a few sips of my pineapple soda to wash the food down.
My feet were hurting from walking. I watched as the cars sped past me. I definitely need a car. I’m tired of walking or catching a cab, I thought as I walked down the street toward my block.
Just then, I heard a car honking its horn. I kept walking without looking. This was New York, and crazies were always trying to holla. However, the horn kept going. “Look, leave me the hell alone,” I turned toward the street and yelled.
I stopped immediately when I noticed it was none other than Mr. . . .
“Damn, shawty, I’ve been trying to get your attention,” he said as he pulled over to the side.
“And you think this is the way to get my attention? By the way, what is your name?”
“Nah, but it worked. Come on, get in, and I will tell you my name.”
I kept walking, and he kept driving slowly beside me. “I don’t ride with strangers. It’s dangerous out in these streets,” I said sarcastically.
“Ma, stop tripping. We’re not strangers. Matter of fact, you’re my stylist.”
I really needed the damn ride because my feet were killing me, but I really didn’t know this nigga. I had only met him a few hours ago. “You better tell me yo’ damn name if you want me to get in.” I stopped and gritted my teeth at him.
He smiled, showing his pearly white teeth. “It’s Devon.”
I stared at him. I figured he wasn’t going to give up anytime soon. I reluctantly got into his black Chrysler 300. Instantly, the smell of new leather hit my nose. This was my first time riding in something this nice, but I didn’t show my excitement.
