“You sure you doing this?” Bella turned my shoulders so that we would be forehead to forehead. Her greenish, brown eyes stared through mine, and I nodded with knowing.
“I’m sure. P’s cute.”
“P’sfine. But so is Grind.”
“Grind has too much going on, Bella.”
She sighed. “He does.”
“Yeap.”
“If my cousin deals with P, you know what that means, right? He’s in the streets. Plus, look at him. Jewelry, swag, Jeep… He ain’t no broke nigga, and he don’t have the mannerisms of a spoiled one. He’s a street nigga, Pearla. You ready for that again?”
“Everyone around us is in the streets, Bella. It’s probably better that way. I don’t think it would make sense to not deal with boys in the streets. How can we bring a regular dude aroundall this?” My arms waved in the air before flopping to my side.
Bella let my shoulders go. “You know I’m with you with whatever. Mahzeyah, too, and from the looks of it, Blayke and Glee, too, now.” She rolled her eyes.
Bella liked the girls but had put out some stank energy when they first came around. She was territorial as heck. We learned quickly, though, that so was Blayke. Again, those two were so alike that it was scary. Mahzeyah said that Glee and I were alike, too, so the group was even more balanced now.
Bella gave me a once-over before conceding. P was parked on the curb, waiting. He hopped out of the truck, opened the passenger door, and then the back seat.
“Ohhh… The liquor man is a gentleman.” Bella climbed in the back. “And it don’t smell like roaches or nothiiiiing in here.”
Her door closed, leaving me standing on the curb.
“You still got time to take them shots.” P rubbed his beard before pulling at his pants near his crotch. I knew it wasn’t a sexual thing but more so something men just did. My brother and Don had done it several times when talking to their wives. Nel had done it with Pia, too, and Italian when he was running after Mahzeyah.
Walking past P, I grabbed onto the door and hoisted myself up. “Let’s go.”
He closed the door behind me and walked around the back. Looking through the rearview mirror, I could see Bella staring at me, still apprehensive. Blinking, I looked off. P climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled his phone and some money from his pockets. He threw both in the cup holders and shifted the gear, pulling out of the townhouse driveway. His truck smelled like the black cherry scent that most guys had in their cars. His seats were smooth leather, and the interior was clean. He took good care of his truck, if it was his.
“This yours?” Bella asked the question before I could.
“Yeah.”
“How much the note on this running you every month?”
Ole lord, Bella.
He chuckled sexily. “Nothin’.”
“Hmm…” was Bella’s reply.
“It’s nice,” I complimented.
“’Preciate it. Where we headed?”
Turning in my seat, I eyed P. “So just like that, you ready to pull down?”
“Shit, why not? I want you, Pearla. So if we gotta pull up on that nigga and tell him it’s a wrap, I’m for it.”
“What if I’m bringing you to a setup?”
A chortle escaped P’s slightly discolored lips. “I ain’t worried ’bout it. Where we going?”
“Period. Mr. P said he ain’t never scared.”
“Here.” P grabbed his phone and handed it to me. “Plug in the address.”
