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Pain lead her to the section above the dance floor. There was definitely more room up there, Lawrynn noticed.
“Babygirl, this is my brother from another, Murder. Murder, this is my good girl, Lawrynn,” Pain introduced them.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” Lawrynn said.
What the fuck? Oh, hell nah is the first thing that came to Murder’s mind. How the hell did he almost fuck his homie’s girl on the dance floor? He nodded, understanding that her relationship with Pain was the reason she took off for the bathroom so damn fast. He also understood that she was his man’s woman even if the nigga didn’t deserve her.
“Nice to meet you, shawty. I’m out, man,” Murder said then dapped up Pain before leaving the club.
“I guess he doesn’t like me,” she told Pain.
“Nah, it ain’t nothing like that. He’s just a complicated nigga, that’s all,” Pain told her.
Lawrynn took a seat on the couch. All of a sudden, the way that Murder guy said the word shawty played in her head over and over. He sounded familiar, but she knew she had never met him before. She brushed it off and decided she needed to stop drinking for the night.
Chapter 2
Lawrynn sat on the trunk of the car waiting for Pain to bring his ass so they could go to her mother’s cookout. They had been together for almost two years now. Things were lovely as far as she could tell. There weren’t any signs of him creeping or entertaining other women, which was both surprising and refreshing to Lawrynn.
Her last boyfriend had left a bad taste in her mouth with having women call or approach her to tell her what they had been doing with her man. When that relationship ended, she told herself she would never subject herself to that kind of torture ever again. She tried to stay on her p’s and q’s to spot anything before she could be blindsided like she was before.
About a year later, she met Patrick “Pain” Gordon. Pain was the right hand to the man around town. He was more so the calm one of the two. She had been seeing him around town for as long as she could remember, but it wasn’t until the day her dryer went out while she was washing clothes that she met Pain. She was struggling to get the heavy-ass, wet clothes into the laundry mat that was next to the barbershop where Pain got his hair cut. He came out and saw her struggling.
After offering help, he stuck around and chopped it up with her while her clothes dried. He was sure to get her phone number before she pulled off that day. Since then, they had been stuck together like a stripper’s ass to a pole.
“You riding on the trunk, or are you getting ya ass in the car?” Pain asked, bringing her out of her trip down memory lane.
The whole being an asshole when talking to her was something new that she was trying hard to deal with.
“All you had to say was that you were ready. Keep all that extra shit to ya self,” she said as she got off the trunk to get in the car.
She couldn’t stand how he talked to her sometimes. In her mind, he was just being an asshole. Arguing was not what she wanted to do, especially not on the way to her mother’s house. The last thing she needed was her brothers, uncles, and cousins looking at Pain sideways behind a dumb ass argument. He had never done anything that would make her call them to beat his ass but, the way she saw it was that he was still a nigga. Niggas did dumb shit, thinking they would never get caught. She hadn’t seen that side in Pain, but she always knew it was a possibility with him. Where is the nigga that I can truly say will be all about me?
“Did you hear me? Where ya mind at today yo?” Pain asked her.
“Nah, I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” she asked.
“Murder is coming through, is that alright?” he asked.
“I guess. You already told him to come, so why even ask me?” she answered, rolling her eyes.
She wasn’t happy that Murder was coming. Whenever he was around, he acted like he was mad at her for something. She couldn’t remember doing anything that could make him mad at her every time he saw her. Eventually, she stopped asking him what his problem was with her. He would never answer her anyway. It was either him ignoring her altogether or him lying and saying he didn’t have a problem with her. She could tell he had some type of beef with her, but she never could figure out what.
Maurice ‘Murder’ Jackson wasn’t the friendliest nigga in the hood. He got the name Murder because that was what he was known for. Pain would beat the shit out of somebody to prove a point. Murder, on the other hand, would just kill ya and get shit over with. He was weird as hell to Lawrynn. At times, he would just stand there looking at her. He never looked at her like the creepy guy at the corner store,
but he looked at her. If he never talked to her or even liked her, why would he come to her mother’s cookout in the first place?
She pushed the questions she had to the back of her mind and focused on enjoying her day.
“’Bout time your ass got here, heffa,” Lawrynn’s cousin, Nell, said as they made their way to the back yard.
“I had to wait on the metrosexual,” she said, looking at Pain’s back.
They both laughed because they always called him a metrosexual behind his back. He always took forever to get ready for anything. Pain was the only guy she knew who had to have an outfit matching from head to toe just to go play basketball. He could dress his ass off; he was just extra as hell with it.
“Keep on, he’s gonna lay your ass out,” Nell said and laughed.
“Do I look like I give a fuck?” Lawrynn responded with a laugh of her own. “He said that Murder was coming through,” she told her cousin.
