First sneak peek into Messy: The Lies We Tell.. Welcome to The Manor..

“I need some money for KJ,” India spoke. Her arms were folded across her round breast thatKordai had paid quite a bit of money for.

“Try again. I just gave you money for KJ Friday and it's only Tuesday.” Kordai informed her, turning back towards the bed to look for his black crossover bag. When he noticed it had fallen on the floor, he unzipped it and made sure everything he needed was still inside.

When his gun, wallet and the ten stacks he had in there stared back at him, a sigh of relief washed over him. India may have asked him for the money, but she wasn’t above taking it and Kordai knew that. The two had got into countless arguments for her touching what didn’t belong to her. Zipping the bag back up, he put it over his head, ready to leave India’s house before he had to curse Giannis’ impatient ass out. If he knew his homeboy the way that he knew he did, he was drumming his fingers on his wheel biting his bottom lip. Hat low over his eyes, hiding the deep line running through his forehead.

Kordai made one more sweep of the room with his eyes before he turned on his heels ready to walk out the house, but India’s small frame stayed planted right in front of the door blocking his escape.

“Yo, watch out. I got to go.” Kordai griped. Not in the mood for all the extra shit that came with her.

Kordai didn’t regret little Kordai for anything in the world. He was more than proud his only seed was his junior, but he should have been wiser when choosing his child’s mother. India was a ghetto girl through and through. He was convinced she created the book on baby mama drama because she took him through hell even though he gave her the world on the strength of her title.

India’s eyes lazily trailed Kordai’s body and she had to admit that she had trapped a fine ass nigga. Kordai and Giannis were hot commodities in the hood since teenagers. India scoffed slightly as she thought back to Giannis being her original target, but everyone knew Giannis was too in love with his stuck-up ass fiancée, Princess. One would think the bitch thought she walked on water from the way that she was flaunted around in the streets. She kicked herself every day that she didn’t catch him slipping when he was in his hoe stage, but India couldn’t complain too much because she ran across something better; a sucker.

“Well, I need some money for me then.” India corrected. “The girls want to get together and do lunch and probably…” her words trailed off as Kordai eased past her as if she wasn’t in the middle of a sentence.

“Uh, excuse you!”

Kordai kept walking because he wasn’t interested in anything that came out of her mouth. He’d be damned if he did anything for her after she bleached the majority of his clothes and put his car on three flats the day prior. The clothes he didn’t care about because he had enough to clothe half the niggas in the manor but his car, that was a no-no. India wasn’t dumb either. She knew his insurance wouldn’t replace his tires if she only flattened three.

Just as Kordai made it out the door, India came up behind him and pulled the back of his dreads. Her five-foot-three frame was nothing compared to his six foot two inches, but she always tried to handle him as if she were six foot seven and toted two pistols. Kordai’s body spent around so fast that the force caused India to stumble a little, but she didn’t fall.

“Keep your hands to yourself, India.” Kordai warned as he turned back around and headed out of the door.

Kordai’s eyes scanned the street as he swaggered across the lawn of the public assistance housing. Legs gaped and he walked with confidence. Dick too big to walk with his legs close together. Just as he made it to the sidewalk, India’s voice halted him in his tracks.

“Go ahead and run back to that ugly ass bitch! Next time your tires won’t be the only thing getting sliced around here!”

Kordai spun around and hiked up his pants. The strides he took across the yard this time weren’t as graceful as he moved with a quickness causing India’s heart to beat loudly in her chest. Kordai reached India in record speed, pinning her between him and the brick wall. Kordai’s brown eyes began to change.She tried hard to keep her tough demeanor but the look in his eye had her afraid he would put hands and feet on her.

“Don’t threaten her. Don’t speak on her and if you see her, don’t breathe in her direction.” Kordai seethed. “This your only warning, India.”

With that Kordai turned back around leaving India there gripping her chest as she watched him walk away. Suddenly hot, Kordai pulled his dreads into a bun on the top of his head with the rubber band on his wrist before he started to jog to Giannis’ car. He had to put some distance between himself and India. He was afraid of what he might do. He made a mental note to call his grandmother to check on KJ and ask if she could keep him for a few more days because if he saw India again today, he wouldn’t be held accountable for his actions.

Kordai got into the car and slammed the door with more force than he intended, earning a side eye from Giannis.

“Before you say anything, I know. My fault man,” Kordai huffed. “Can you please get me away from this broad house before I do some shit I’m going to regret and my son grows up motherless?”

Giannis shook his head but didn’t say anything as he switched gears, putting the car back in drive and pulled away from the curb. No words were exchanged between the two. Giannis attempted to get out of the manor without causing too much unnecessary attention from the cops that patrolled the area. He had been there entirely too long already, and he didn’t need any more hold ups. He glanced over at Kordai and noticed his leg was bouncing as he stared straight ahead. A clear sign that he was pissed off.

“You want to tell me what that shit was about?” Giannis questioned, focusing his eyes back on the road.

“Man.” Was all Kordai could formulate because he wasn’t even sure.

Kordai couldn’t understand the exact source of his anger, but he knew it was there. It painted his face in dark lines and his eyes glossed over, full of murderous intent. Kordai never let India get him this in his body. Not when she flattened his tires, acted a fool or bleached his clothes. He wasn’t even this mad when she stole twenty bands from him but her threatening to cut Naomi had him ready to put one between her eyes. India could do anything to Kordai because, in his mind, it came with the territory of getting her pregnant. The woes of baby mama drama, but Naomi didn’t ask to have to deal with India.

That was Kordai’s doing and he tried hard to keep his worlds separated, but India made that nearly impossible with her constant theatrics and shenanigans. Any time India sensed Kordai was spending time with Naomi, she would either call for a ridiculous ass reason, pop up at every place she knew he was and cause a scene or threaten to keep KJ away from him.

“You ain’t got no weed in here?” Kordai accused. Finally turning away from the window and looking over at his boy.

Kordai needed something. Anything to keep him from making Giannis turn back around so that he could go beat India’s ass. He wasn’t a woman beater in the slightest, but her threat put a bad taste in his mouth.

Giannis glanced over at him again before he reached into his middle console, removing his hand and producing a pack. Kordai blew out of sigh of relief as he almost snatched the pre-rolls out of Giannis’ outstretched hand.

“If she can do something to you to have you this fucked up in the head, you don’t need to be fucking with her,” Giannis commented out of the blue.

It was Giannis’ turn to earn a side eye. Kordai chose not to speak on what Giannis said because he knew what it looked like on the outside. He could hear the bass from Giannis’ speakers when he first stepped out on the porch, so Kordai knew Giannis most likely didn’t hear what India had said. The way she had violated him. Had threatened something he considered to be his. Whether India knew it or Giannis knew it, but Kordai had come to the realization that he felt the same about Naomi’s well-being as he did his own. He wasn’t sure when or how but it had happened.

“It wasn’t what she did. It was what she said.” Kordai corrected.

Kordai’s hand slid into the pocket of his joggers before he came back out with a lighter that he knew would be there. Kordai was a smoker so a lighter and a blunt were a part of his wardrobe the same way his shoes were. Today, his rush to get away from India had caused him to forget his stash at her house. The blunt dangled between Kordai’s lips as he lit the end and took a deep pull allowing the weed to invade his lungs. His eyes closed momentarily and for a split second, all his problems faded away.

Blowing out the smoke, Kordai allowed his eyes to open slowly as his thoughts swirled in his head before he turned the upper half of his body in Giannis’ direction. Giannis came to a stop at a red light and looked back at his friend, his eyebrows touching under the brim of his hat.

“You gone say something or you gone keep staring at me with that weird ass look on your face?” Giannis questioned, slightly annoyed at this point by Kordai’s weird ass behavior.

The two had been friends for at least twenty years and Giannis had never seen him act this strange. The shit was starting to make him a little worried. Kordai cleared his throat before opening his mouth to speak.

“I think I’m in love with Naomi.”