Page 6
I’m definitely going to slide through once the second nurse gets here.
Chapter 3
Zari
“Hell fucking no!” Drey says, standing up in the middle of my living room, cutting his hand across his neck, already shutting it down the moment I mention Kye helping.
“C’mon, Drey… let’s smoke a blunt and talk this out. She can do whatever you need,” I say, sitting up and pulling down my house dress.
Drey shakes his head and his locs brush against his jacket. “Nah, Pinkie. That ain’t gonna fly.”
“She’s hardworking.”
Drey glares at me and laughs. “She’s bougier than you. Ion know why you’re wasting my time. I’m about to go home and nap.”
“Why not? Kyesha can do anything,” I say, trying to persuade him. I need this girl off my back. I shouldn’t have let her see my purse. She’s never known me to carry any type of cash.
It doesn’t help that he looks good as hell wearing a Cuban link this afternoon with a black sweatsuit. His grey tank is peeking out.
He’s a solid-built nigga with muscles, and I need to stop imagining what his tattoos look like underneath his clothes. Probably money over hoes or something like that.
His fine ass shouldn’t be telling me no. He was definitely on board with us working together to throw spoken word events. It didn’t take much convincing.
I suck my teeth and inhale deeply. My place smells sweet like cinnabons from my candles, but it ain’t helping my nerves. My anxiety is on ten.
Normally, I can keep my cool, but Kye trying to blackmail me got me acting out of character. Her ass always be gone with the wind, and she loves that our father takes care of us. So, I don’t know why she’s trying to make money. It ain’t like she needs it.
I don’t really need it either, since he takes care of me too. But still, I like having cash. Growing up, we never got cash for our birthdays. Always gift cards, or when we became teens, we got credit cards.
Regardless, I can’t let my father know my tea. This will blow everything up and I can’t lose all my shit right now.
“This shit’s already hot with you. I ain’t taking no bullet because of Big Trell’s daughters,” he says, shuffling to my front door.
My dad shouldn’t even be in the game anymore. He was supposed to leave when my mom got pregnant again, ten years ago. Junior was a surprise to everyone; she didn’t even know she was pregnant until six months in.
She was hollering every day about leaving his ass, but she’s still with him. She even tried moving into the guest house, but he had the movers move everything right back into the main house.
My heart beats fast in my chest and I jump up from my plush couch. I run over to him and block the door. I lean forward towards him with my titties spilling out of my short pink house dress. “What will it take?” I say, stretching my arms across the door.
My chest rises and falls. My mouth runs dry. At this point, I’ll do anything.
If I gotta split my money with Kye, I’ll do it, but it ain’t my preference. Her ass gotta work for it. Ain’t shit free in this world. Our dad taught us that.
I need Drey to be on board because crossing him ain’t going to end well.
Ain’t nothing like holding fresh stacks of cash in your hand. The first time Drey dropped that money in my hand a month ago, my brain lit up like a kid in a candy store. Ain’t nothing better than it. I’ve had a pill or two, and this is way better than that.
My controlling ass father only lets me use my credit card, and he claims it’s to analyze our spending. Talking about the way we spend, he gets cash back. He ain’t a broke nigga at all. He runs the streets here in Alexandria and Arlington. Heavy on Richmond Highway. Plus, he has random, legitimate businesses and his jazz club. His jazz club was a money laundering front until recently.
But I know Montrell Davis better than anyone. His nosey ass likes to be in my business and I’m not letting him catch me slipping.
This little situation I have with Drey has been liberating. I’m gonna do whatever it takes to keep it.
Drey stares at my breasts and then looks down at my curves. If he wants a taste, I’ll give it to him.
“The bar shit is too hot, plus her ass is always drunk at the events.”
My eyes widen. “Alright… well, let’s brainstorm,” I say, reaching for his ear and grabbing the blunt. I run my hand down his chest. “Me and you make a good team. You’ve been moving more product.” I put the blunt to my lips.
