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Scarred 3

Scarred 3


“It bleeds but we don’t see the cuts”

Follow @adewus4real You’ll only regret it when I get heartbroken 


Niggas I Know by INK Edwards

I could feel the discomfort as the bristles grazed the surface of my teeth as I brushed my teeth that night.

I still hadn’t gotten over the messages I read on Tasha’s phone. It just seemed out of Jacques’ character and I could not wrap my head around the idea of him saying it.

If someone had told me he said that, I would have argued and vehemently denied it. Seeing the messages myself made it impossible to clear out of my head.

I could understand wanting to defend and protect his sister but why would he say that about me?

After all, he knew I wouldn’t try to intentionally hurt her, or so I thought.


Sometimes one can go through certain things in life and the ability to compartmentalize comes naturally. I was trying to figure out the best way to stop my anger from spilling into other parts of my life.

I was failing miserably as I would find myself tying everything back to the messages and the thought behind them.

It was very early Thursday morning and I was running an errand. I had to take public transportation as I still wasn’t medically cleared to drive. I was walking to the bus stop and realized that I was still every angry. I needed someone to talk to, someone to vent to and get things off my chest. I needed a soundboard, someone to tell me I wasn’t crazy for feeling so angry.

And then it hit me; I pulled out my headphones from my iPod classic and put them inside my phone. I unlocked my phone and dialed Jules’ number. It rung for a few seconds and then he answered.

I could hear the sounds of people’s voices around him as he made his way to work on the train. We exchanged greetings and I delved straight into the conversation with him.

“Sooo Tasha came over this past weekend…”

I started off,

“Oh really? How did that go?”

he responded with surprise and a sense of inquiry. I replied,

“I’m not sure actually. She came with some story about how she was sorry for not coming to the hospital more while I was there and how her life was difficult and blah blah blah…”

“Oh isn’t that a great way to apologize”

 Jules chimed back in with his famous sarcasm.

“Bro, that’s not even the good part… I went through her phone bro.”

 “You did what?

Bruh, you know that never ends well with anyone. Man or woman.”

he attempted to lecture me.

“I know. I know but I had to. Well I felt the urge and followed it. I found out that Jacques had been telling Tasha to stay away from me. I think he might have been the reason why she stayed away from me while I was recovering. I was shocked bro. I saw the messages he sent her warning her from coming to see me. Bro, if I see him at your thing next week, I’m going to go OFF!”

Jules, who was usually very helpful but was always the mediator between Jacques and I since college, didn’t help much this time.

“All that’s not needed. Just talk to him about it first before you both get on planes to come out here. This is a big moment for me. I need y’all on your game.”

He continuously defaulted to asking me to speak to Jacques directly to get his side of the story. We chatted some more after I realized he wouldn’t be helpful on that issue and then I ended the call.

I pondered calling Jacques the next day but never got to it because I received this message from him.


I realized that Jules must have talked to him and that was fine by me but I was now even more pissed off because he called me a traitor.


There was no way he could call me a traitor. We had way more history and a bond that was beyond friendship. Him calling me a traitor broke my heart and was a direct slap in the face. And I was planning on responding.

.       .     .       .     .       .

That night I was in my living room looking out on to my balcony when I began to think of the three J’s and how we got so close. Particularly I remembered how Jacques and I became as close as we were. It took me back to our senior year in college. It took me back to that fateful night when it happened.

I remembered placing my hands on my head. I could not understand what had just happened. I was sweating bullets, as my eyes were wide open but felt extremely heavy.

My brain was racing to figure it all out. It felt like there was a puzzle in my head that I was trying to solve under the family feud 25 seconds clock. I was running different scenarios in my head and every single one arrived at one final question

“What have I done?”

I placed my head on the steering wheel realizing what I had done and began to cry. I was crying because I made it out alive but more than anything, I was crying because I didn’t know if they did. I began to think of my family, my sister, my education, my life, my legacy and the tears just flooded out even more. It seemed like I was going to break.

It felt like everything I had ever worked for or lived for was going down the drain in one night. I looked up at the clock and it was 3:16am. I looked around the cabin of the car and made sure there was nothing lying around. My car was usually clean. I was just trying to make sure that nothing was left, nothing that could suggest anything to anyone looking for something that could implicate me. The girls I had driven in the car earlier had a makeup bag on the back seat and some cups for the alcohol they were drinking on our way to the party.

Everything was clear, so I got up and headed for the door. I made it to the door of the apartment. Swaying and staggering because of the weed I had smoked at the party. We had added something to the blunt to make it stronger that day but I didn’t know it hit me that hard. I stopped in front of the door and began knocking. My eyes were still big, my heart racing felt like someone was holding the skin above them back to ensure my eye lids didn’t fall down. I could sense myself getting really worried now.

“What if he wasn’t home?”

I hadn’t texted him before I left the party and quite frankly I wasn’t even planning on coming there when I left the party, it was what happened from when I left the club to the house that caused me to change my destination. I knocked again. No answer.

Now I was truly scared and worried. I needed to speak to him. I did not want to go home that night. I just didn’t want to be by myself. I knocked one more time and then I heard some movement inside and the light from the bedroom went on. I sighed in relief knowing that he was home.

He walked over to the door and opened it. He was standing there somewhat awake in his undershirt and with an erection. He looked up at me irritated and confused.

“Why’d you keep knocking man? Don’t you have your key?”

I looked down at the bunch of keys in my hand and nodded. That showed how much I was off my game. I actually had a key into his place. We all had keys to each others apartments. Primarily it was because of an incident with Jules where a girl from a rival school wanted to have sex with him but he did not want to have sex with her. Obviously because she was crazy and not on the “healthy” side, he camped out at my house while I was gone. But that incident caused us to devise a plan that consisted of us all having spare keys to get into each other’s apartments incase of any emergencies.

I was staring at the keys when I heard Jacques fingers snapping me back into reality as he closed the door behind me.

“So why are you trying to break the door bro”

he said.

I looked up from the keys and caught his erection again going up towards his face and I asked,

“Why don’t you have any clothes on?”

He looked at me with a mix of satisfaction and irritation and said,

“because I was involved in things before your ass almost broke my door down”

I tried to force a smile back and failed. He stepped closer, tapped me and walked to the kitchen and then asked,

“what happened man? Talk! You’re keeping her waiting”

I looked at him straight in the face and I knew I couldn’t lie to him. This was my brother. I ran to him for a reason.

I sighed and then said,

“I was driving really fast and I hit someone on the way here. I think they might be dead”

His eyes lit up. He immediately walked over to the window and looked outside. He walked back in and headed for his bedroom door and he closed it.

He looked at me and asked,

“Did anybody follow you?”

I said


“Are you drunk right now or did you drink?” 

I said no again.

“Okay good. We can go from there. Go and take a shower and eat some food. We’ll handle the rest tomorrow.”

He said as he opened the door and headed into his room closing the door behind him. I stood in there and looked at myself. I felt dirty. Not physically but like I was covered in filthiness that was unseen. I headed to the guest bathroom of his two-bedroom apartment and hopped in the shower. I ignored my phone the whole time.

I dried myself off and headed for the bed in the guest room. My old shoes lay in the corner. I climbed into the bed and realized I had no charger for my phone.

I placed the phone next to my head. I could not stop thinking about the accident. I was driving too fast. I was tired. I was high. The light was yellow when I crossed the line but it was like red the very next moment. I caught the end of the other car that was probably going just as fast and might have run their red light to come into the intersection. I wasn’t sure and it was killing me. I know the car spun and hit the light post a few feet down the street but I kept driving. I panicked.

I didn’t mean to but here I was now and I couldn’t go back. I had too much to lose by turning myself in. I remembered what Jacques said and figured we would deal with it the next day.

I stared at the ceiling in the dark room; the red light for the low battery signal on my phone blinked and my eyes grew heavy. Sleep came.


I was awoken the next morning by the sound of the blender as Jacques was making his famous morning power shakes. I stumbled into the kitchen as I tried to hide my face from all the sunlight that flooded his apartment.

“Do you have your practice stuff with you?”

he asked me again jolting my mind towards something I had missed.

“It’s the playoffs man”

I nodded back and responded

“yeah, my gym bag is in my trunk”

I was surprised that he was not talking about the incident that brought me there in the first place so I asked,

“aren’t we going to talk about last night?”

I looked at him concerned. He looked at me and with a straight face, he responded by simply saying,


he then continued to say,

“We have a meeting with the Dean and Vice Provost after practice. I’m coming with you and you don’t need to worry about it. They called my phone this morning because yours was dead”

I wanted to piss my pants right there. How did they know it was me?

Back then, that was a stupid question to ask because there weren’t that many people in that town driving a dark green 2005 Buick LeSabre with alloy wheels and a huge subwoofer in the trunk. My car was known on campus. All it took was one person to have a similar description of that car and they would be coming for me.

Jacques was able to calm me down on our way to practice. He even went as far as telling me the driver of the other car was still alive and in the hospital.

It eased my anxiety but I was still distracted throughout practice. I just wanted to get the meeting over with. Them expelling me was the least of my worries with being jailed my most pressing fear.

We drove from the practice field to the Vice Provost’s office. It was the longest drive of my life. I was now sweating profusely.

We walked into the office and the dean was sitting in the seat to the left, our coach standing behind the provost and the police chief standing in the corner to our right.

The Vice Provost from behind his seat asked us to sit down and asked us if we knew why we were there. We nodded.

He then said,

“The police want to investigate and Jerome, they want you to come downtown with them.”

I dropped my head. I was in pain. My heart was aching and breaking as the pain and regret tore me apart. I was about to get up from my seat to leave with the officer when Jacques spoke and said

“I was the one driving. Take me in”

I turned around shocked and scared. This was my brother. I didn’t want him to take the fall for me. I couldn’t let him do it.

I was about to say something when he glared at me and repeated

“I was driving too fast. I think the person ran his light too but I should have seen him coming. It was my fault”

The police chief looked at him confused and suddenly realized that he was taking the fall for me. The chief asked

“Are you sure? Do you know what you’re doing here, son?”

Jacques nodded and kept his head up straight. I was in shock.

“How could he do this?”

All he had worked so hard for could go down the drain and he didn’t want me to talk. I was in the dark as to what he was thinking but he seemed to have it figured out. The Vice Provost looked at the coach who had this terrified and confused look on his face. He then asked us to excuse them. We stepped out to the lobby and I immediately went off raising my voice

“What the fuck did you just do in there????

Are you trying to get expelled????

Why did you do that?”

I had all these questions I was yelling at Jacques while Jacques postured and barked back

“Are you trying to get expelled?

How would your mother feel?

Would she be able to take it???”

I pulled back and began to recognize that this could be bigger than me. I covered my mouth with my right hand and took a few steps backwards and sat on the bench. Jacques came and sat next to me. He placed his right hand around my shoulder and said,

“You are my brother. I already thought this through. I am the best player on that team and this town wants to win a Championship. This is the closest they have come in a while. They will not allow their best player go down. They won’t do it. So you don’t have to worry. I got you.”

I looked up to him as if he was an angel sent from heaven and at that moment he was. I placed my head on his shoulder.

He was right. We left that evening with no problems. They came and towed my car away for “investigation” and nothing ever came of it. I didn’t play that weekend because the coach knew exactly what had transpired. Jacques played and killed it as usual. I was let off the hook there. I could not believe it but I got nothing and Jacques only got his license suspended for 6 months.

I was grateful for this man and I continued to pray that God give me an opportunity to pay him back. I was able to stay in school and keep my scholarship. We never spoke of that day and years have gone by.


As fate would have it, I got a chance to repay Jacques back for “saving my life” a few weeks later.

It was 3 days before the Championship Bowl game. And Jacques called me and said he could not play. I was shocked and I asked why. It was the week leading up to the biggest game in our college careers and the closest our school had come to a title in a long time. He needed to play.

“What happened?”

I asked him. He went on to narrate that he had been at party the night before when this girl he was trying to have sex with that night talked him into trying a drug. IT was supposed to be the new thing on the college scene. I know he knew better than that so I asked if he was drunk when she asked him to try it. He said he was.

Now as it was customary before a deciding game like this, the game’s governing body usually tested all the players. Sometimes they tested them right after.

Jacques not one to panic, was about to lose his shit. He was already let off the hook for my incident; he for sure could not go down like that over a stupid mistake. He had looked up the drug and realized two of the ingredients were on the list of drugs athletes were banned from taking.

It was my plan that came about the leg breaking incident on the day of the game. It was contingent on the team not being tested till after the game. We hoped that it would be one of those games where we would get tested after.

The plan was that during the game, we would run the play and intentionally run the same lane, allow him to get tackled but before he could get up. I would run and step on his leg hoping to badly bruise or even break his tibia or fibula. It was a dangerously painful plan and one that required us to rely on so many other factors. Not being tested, one of us being tackled early on the play and then us losing the game because would all be a waste.

Like I mentioned before, we both played that game and the plan went almost without a hitch except I ran and completely missed his leg and ruptured his Achilles. It had to be operated on and Jacques was in a tremendous amount of pain, he was under observation at the hospital and there was no urine sample taken for his testing as the whole city celebrated the win and mourned the loss of one of the star players at the same time. It was the perfect distraction.

In both incidents, only Jacques and I knew what we had done. Those secrets defined the rest of our lives. Because Jacques was not a cokehead, the drugs were out of his system within a week. He got a substantial insurance payout from school and the game’s governing body because he was ruled out of playing football again, which meant he didn’t go pro.

We had each other’s backs, we always did. So the wedge and lack of trust that had come between us now was confusing and I was not sure how to get past it but it needed to be dealt with or it was going to break us. It was funny the curveball life had thrown at us after everything we had been through was his sister or so I thought.

I called up Tasha and told her about the whole thing without going into details or specifics. I asked her to call her brother and talk to him about us because I wasn’t sure I could do it at the time because of how angry I was at him. She understood and said she would take care of it. It was her brother and even though he was “mine” too, she had the same blood as him. I hoped he would listen.

.     .     .     .     .     .


SLS by PartyNextDoor

Tasha and I were rebuilding our relationship but I was still not giving her all of me. The things I had seen on her phone made it much harder to give in and let go of myself.

We had been hanging out a lot lately and this particular night, she came over and she was making dinner in the kitchen.

I walked in and leaned on dishwasher, which was on the opposite side of the kitchen from the stove. I stared at her body and I could feel my member start to rise between my legs but that was not why I was there.

I called out her name and began to speak,

“Tasha, I went through your phone that day you first came back to my house and saw the messages from Jacques and that’s what led to our fight”

She turned and looked somewhat relieved that it was all I saw. I continued,

“why would he say that?

What did you tell him for him to say that?”

She didn’t let me talk. She turned the burner off and walked over to me. She whispered in my ear while grabbing a hold of my shaft and rubbing the head. She said,

“You sound tense baby. Let me fix that for you”

I so badly wanted to continue the conversation but she had a hold on me. Her eyes. The way she looked at me. There was something there. She dropped down into a squatting position and pulled my shorts down to my ankles. She stared at my hardening member as she stroked it from head to base. She looked up at me and it stood straight. Fuck!

She pulled down her blouse to give me full view of her bosom. It was beautiful as always. She then slid her hand down her dress and began to feel on her wetness. A few seconds later, her hand reappeared. She looked up at me maintaining eye contact as her hand traveled to her mouth. She placed her fingers in her mouth and sucked on them, licking her juices off while closing her eyes to highlight the satisfaction she got from the process. My dick twitched in her right hand grip. She opened her eyes and smiled. She slowly parted her lips and took my now throbbing member inside her warm mouth.

It felt like magic. I forgot what I was mad about.

She knew was she was doing. It was sloppy and dirty. She worked both hands up and down my shaft, alternating between stroking, sucking and gargling my balls in her mouth. It was only a matter of time before I was going to let it all loose. She was ready for it too. She moved her left hand back under her dress and moaned as she sucked and fingered herself. I was going insane. The she stopped soaking her fingers in her wetness and concentrated on making me cum. Her lips clamped down on my shaft as my shaft slid in and out. She used her left hands to roll my balls in her hand. I went silent and she knew what was coming. So she sucked harder. I began to grunt. Trying to hold it all in. She wouldn’t let me and then it happened. All in her mouth, she took the load of my warm homeless seed. She got up and licked her lips and moved her left hand back under her dress. She soaked it in her juices and then moved the hand out and placed it in my mouth. I closed my eyes and licked her fingers. I wanted all of her juices. She wasn’t having it.

She still had my now softening dick in her right hand. She began to stroke it as she used it to pull me towards the room.

“Come here let me clean that up for you”

She said as she directed me towards my bedroom. She pushed me onto the bed. That act alone and my dick began to harden. She climbed on the bed and sucked on it a few times getting in semi hard. She stood the bed and lowered her juice box onto my shaft. It felt wet. It was really wet and somewhat reminiscent of a floodgate opening. I grabbed onto the sheets as she bounced up and down on top of me. I clamped my legs together hoping to not end this session quickly but she was that good. I could feel my wet balls covered in her wetness hitting the back on her perfectly rounded ass. Her smile of satisfaction as she knew she had me on the ropes was driving me deeper and deeper into some mixture of love and lust for her.

I could feel it coming up and then she asked me

“are you going to cum for me baby?”

any man knows what that question would do for him and any woman asking her man that during sex knows what she’s doing and the reaction she’s hoping to get. I clutched tighter and tried to take my mind to another place to avoid cumming then. And then it happened, she asked me in her softest voice,

“cum for me baby, please cum for me”

Who was I to deny the woman I loved the satisfaction of pleasuring me? The rest was a formality. I did not restrain myself as I squealed and exploded inside her. She smiled and continued riding for few more minutes and then she got off. She stood by the side of the bed as I tried to catch my breath. She pulled her dress down and said,

“Let me go and finish your food but I’m definitely getting mine tonight”

Referring to her climaxing. I nodded as she started to walk out of the room and then I remembered why I was upset in the kitchen to begin with. I asked

“Tasha, did you talk to your brother like I asked?”

She turned back and with a guilty and manipulative look on her face like a daughter who has her father wrapped around her right finger she said,

“No I haven’t”

and immediately walked out.

I turned over on the bed upset all over again and stared out the window. We were all traveling to Jules’s house in two days on the East Coast for his birthday and promotion party and I knew Jacques was going to be there.

This woman had succeeded in putting me in another difficult situation and she just walked out. I thought to myself. This could all go really bad, very quick.


I cussed under my breath. SCARRED 3 is the 50th post on this blog!!! You DEFINITELY HAVE TO COMMENT. COME ON!!! Do IT!!!


“Who is wielding the blade? There’s blood but we don’t see the cuts yet.”


Give me feedback. How did this make you feel? Talk to me about Scarred 2. COMMENT!!! 

The End

Follow @adewus4real

Thank you for reading, sharing and commenting. You are highly appreciated. 

Lookout for Part 4 of Scarred next week and #WordsofWednesday on Wednesday.

© 2014 #WhatTheHeckMan

18 thoughts on “Scarred 3

  1. I’m here for Tasha. I’m really trying to find out what’s sparked so much animosity from her brother cause it’s not that deep. if someone snitched, well…we shall see.

  2. Moreeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What happens next? Why is Tasha taking so long? I’m even suspecting that girl sef

    I get notified via email when you write more so hurry up!!!

  3. Lol next week can’t come quickly enough 💃💃 oh and the #whattheheckman music library is everything.

  4. I’m not sure how or why it took so long to get on this blog.
    It was such a good read. I think Tasha is being really dodgy ignoring the question but I just wonder what she could possibly be being dodgy about. The J’s are probably broken, if two of them can’t make up, that’s something…
    I so can’t wait for the next episode, I’m of to read the other series. 🙂

  5. I love the love Jerome has for his friends! Jacques needs to relax, and I still don’t trust Tasha.

    I like how you advanced the plot with just enough ambiguity to keep the reader guessing.

  6. Hmmmm This suspense ending is so unavoidable to not want to know what happens next. I suspect the Tasha girl playing both ends but if someone snitched, who could that be😮😮 Let’s wait on it!!

  7. As usual a very exciting suspense keeping us at the edge of our chair waiting anxiously for the next part, mehn the way u describe the sexual scenes hmm….any ways excellent writing as usual till next Friday

  8. Well done on your Golden post 🎉🎉. The suspense though … I wonder what has made Jacques so mad ?? I love their ride or die friendship / bromance . Still don’t like Tasha and I’m sure she is behind everything . … I can’t wait to find out what happens next ….

  9. I’m all for Bromance. Tasha is definitely playing both sides. To her brother, she’s probably a victim. Awesome story, HATE YOU for the suspense filled ending (as always). The paagraphs between song 1 to song 2 is wayyyyy to long, the song didn’t carry on. SANMI THE WRITER! #KayBye

    1. Lol smh. See how I have spoiled you. The song had to go there. Pele. Next time I’ll record my own version of the song and make it longer. Lol. Thanks for reading and commenting!

  10. Sex scenes got me covering up my screen at work as if someone goin get a peek n c d words painted as graphic illustrations lol….😥…. Whirlwind of erotica uppandan lol…can’t wait to see what happens next.

  11. Shit. Shit! Your writing moves faster and faster each time, and find myself wrapped up in your stories each week. Tasha is not to be trusted! She’s hiding something serious. These three Js, the level of sacrifice…would I risk my scholarship for my friend? Would I put myself in danger of bodily harm to avoid a drug test? Wow. Great read, as always.

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