“Think so?”
“The smile… you both share the same smile. Why didn’t you tell me that your mother was in a wheelchair?”
“I don’t tell my business… that shit is earned.”
“And I earned knowing this?”
I paused. “I don’t know, Zoya… did you?”
Killing the engine, I got out and walked around toward her side. Her childish ass pushed the lock back down when I grabbed the door handle. Swiping my hand near the handle, the doors unlocked.
“I’m alright here… you can do your family thing.” She tried to get out of coming to meet my mother and her friends.
“Goon!” I heard that familiar voice and saw Kim walking down the block with a black plastic bag, and a brown paper bag peeking from the inside of it.
I already knew she had copped her a bottle and was about to sit up with her hoe ass friends on the next block.
“What up, Kim?” I nodded at her, and she smiled as she continued to walk toward me. “I’ll be back.”
I tried to close the door and Zoya shoved her foot out the door. “You stay right here.”
She was jealous.
I chuckled because getting that reaction out of her was a turn on. It let me know that all the chasing I had been doing wasn’t for nothing.
Boobie was feeling the kid.
“Why?”
“Gerald,” she hissed.
“You want me… come get me, Boobie.” I started down the block, and looked back at her, as she continued to shoot daggers with her eyes.
Zoya didn’t realize that I was the kind of nigga that did whatever I wanted. She couldn’t control the shit I did, and although I would never disrespect her with Kim, if she wanted to let these bitches know that this dick was hers, she needed to claim that shit.
Kim smiled, as she leaned against the mailbox, looking past me. “What you getting into tonight?”
“Heading out of town.”
Her attention wasn’t on me in the least. I turned to see what she was looking at and saw Zoya walking slowly down the block toward us.
She wore a pair of oversized gray sweatpants, Asics, and a black bra top. Her Louis Vuitton purse was across her, as she walked with her hands in her pockets. Zoya was such a fucking boss. It was how coolly she walked toward us, like it was no sweat off her back.
Kim dug in her plastic bag and pulled out an ice cup from the corner store. She leaned it on top of the mailbox that was covered with graffiti tags on a postal sticker. I watched as she continued to look past me at Zoya, as she opened up the pint of Hennessy and poured some into the ice cup.
I felt my baby’s presence next to me, as Kim put the lid on her cup. “Hey. I’m Kim, me and Goon go way back,” she greeted, taking a sip of her drink.
Zoya slightly smiled. “Hi. Always nice to meet a friend… Are you the way back kind of friend that he grew up with, or the kind that he fucked before?” Kim choked on her drink, and I had to pat her back because she was choking so hard.
Meanwhile, Zoya was standing with her hands still in her pockets, waiting for a response. “Since she’s choking, Gerald, you fucked her?”
“Zoya, what the?—”
“No worries… I’ll let you tell me when you’re done here.” She turned around, hands still in her pockets, and walked back toward the car.
Kim was still choking, as I hit her back with a little force. “What the fuck, Goon?”
Zoya was leaned on the front of my truck with her phone in her hand, waiting for me. I looked at Kim, and she was still shocked that those words had left her mouth.
