Clarke
Pray It Away
“Rock! Stop right here!”
My driver peered at me through the rearview mirror. “Take that ski mask off, little one! Your mom is?—”
I pushed the door open, ignoring his unsolicited advice. The older man had been my personal driver since I was a teenager. He acted as my therapist many times, but that day, I didn’t need his counsel. There were no words he could say to make me rethink my decision to trip out.
A part of me regretted opening the direct message that put me on a hunt. I was supposed to be enjoying brunch with my friends, but I made the mistake of opening Instagram. I didn’t have intentions of telling my friends about the videos of Chaz in bed with another woman or the pictures of him kissing a woman inmyBenz, but they called me out when my mood shifted.
After sharing what happened, I threw back a few shots of brown liquor and announced it was time for revenge. Simone and a few women I worked with in the past pumped me up to show out, whereas my personal assistant, Sage, reminded me of the consequences I would face.
Before I hopped out of the black truck, I leaned over the back seat and grabbed a bat from the trunk.
“Let me borrow this!” I snatched Simone’s glueless wig off her head.
“Clarke! What the hell?”
“I’ll replace it!” I assured her as my heels crashed into the pavement.
The popular downtown area was busy with shoppers, yet my focus resided with the apple red G-Wagon parked in front of a luxury boutique. With no hesitation, I smashed the wood into the driver’s side window, sending a bang through the atmosphere. My chest caved in as I proceeded to do the same to every other piece of glass in my line of vision.
“That’s right, best friend. Fuck his shit up!”
Fueled by embarrassment, I didn’t need Simone’s encouragement to damage Chaz’s prized possession. The proof of his disrespect was all the motivation I needed.
“Don’t let up, Clarke! If that nigga wants to embarrass you, then we’re going to return the favor!”
My head almost spun off my shoulders. “Bitch! Don’t say my name!”
On my Catwoman tip, I hiked my House of C.B. dress over my knees and crawled up the hood of the truck. Balanced on six-inch heels, I jumped up and down until there was a valley-low dent in the top. Every ounce of frustration that snatched my appetite guided my actions. The late nights. The women. The outside baby. I couldn’t physically make Chaz feel my pain, but I knew what would hurt.
No longer than three minutes after my arrival, the blaring of sirens could be heard in the distance. Though I wanted Chaz to embody the same fury that flowed through my heart, I refused to end up behind bars. I wasn’t above breaking the law, but I was too pretty for jail.
In a haste, I swiped Simone’s wig from the concrete and stuffed the human hair deep into the muffler. A mischievous smirk seized my lips while I marveled at my handy work.
“Pam Grier!” Sage called me by a name only he used. “Get your ass in this truck!”
I jogged to the Escalade and jumped into the back seat, where Simone greeted me with her phone raised in the air.
“I got everything on camera, girl.”
“What?” I snatched her phone. Without asking for permission, I deleted the video and then tossed the iPhone into the space beside her.
“Why the hell did you do that?” she complained.
“Why are you recording me committing a crime? Remind me to never do dirt with you.”
“Too late.” Simone rolled her hazel eyes as she began taking down the braids that were underneath her wig. “I was being a good friend. I thought you would want proof that you don’t fuck around.”
“The proof is in the Benz truck, boo,” I teased while sliding the ski-mask off my head. “Sage, please give me the compact out of my purse. I need to make sure my Barbie ponytail is still intact.”
My sassy assistant smacked his lips, though he did as I asked. “I hope you feel better now because, later, your mom is going to kill us.”
“No, she won’t. If she killsme, then she won’t have anyone to control. If she killsyou, there won’t be anyone for her to pawn me off on.”
“Damn, Sage!” Simone rolled her eyes. “You’re always complaining when it’s time to put in work.”
