AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Wait a minute, so you fucked this nigga, knowin’ he got a chick, just for the hell of it when you got a nigga who laces ya ass lovely?
“Yep,” she said, grinnin’. “And the nigga fucked me like the world was endin’.”
“Bitch, is you serious?”
“I sure am. Now, don’t get me wrong. Divine holds it down, and I dig him for it. But like I told you a while back, his dick game is real whack. Granted, the nigga can fuck nonstop if you let ’im. However, no matter how many times I try to teach him, he still insists on fuckin’ me like a damn bunny rabbit, and bustin’ off all quick. I’m sorry, but all that quick humpin’ and nuttin’ ain’t doin’ it for me. I don’t care how many times he can get it up. At the end of the day, I need a nigga who knows how to rock this pussy inside out.”
I rolled my eyes. I tell you, bitches ain’t ever fuckin’ satisfied. If they got a nigga who’s lacin’ they asses and treatin’ ’em right, it ain’t good enough. The bitch’ll still find somethin’ to complain ’bout. He can’t fuck, his dick ain’t big enough, he’s too fuckin’ borin’, he ain’t hood enough, he ain’t rough enough, blah, blah, blah. Give me a fuckin’ break!
“So you mean to tell me you’d risk losin’ a nigga who treats you right for some dick from a muhfucka who ain’t comin’ to the table with nothin’ but a hot nut and who ain’t ever gonna leave his chick for ya ass.”
She stared at me, then blinked. “Hell yeah,” she said, snatchin’ the blunt outta my hand, then puffin’. “I ain’t tryna marry the nigga. I fucked him for a tune-up. He stretched this pussy out, knocked the sides around, and now I’m good. If we hook up again, cool. If not, no biggie. I wanted to fuck ’im and I did. But a muhfucka who got a wifey ain’t someone I’m tryna check for.”
“So you sayin’ you don’t want ’im for ya’self?”
“Not hardly,” she said, twistin’ her lips up. “Why the fuck would I want that? That nigga ain’t shit for creepin’ on his chick.”
“And neither are you, ho,” I said, laughin’ while lightin’ another blunt. “For fuckin’ on a nigga who thinks he done wifed ya hot ass.”
She laughed. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, a ho who ain’t ready to be wifed is a ho playin’ house. And that’s exactly what the fuck I’m doin’.”
“Humph,” I grunted, stickin’ another forkful of lo mein in my mouth. “And it’s shit like that that causes a nigga to push a bitch’s biscuit in. You hoes need to stop playin’ niggas. Just keep the shit funky, and let the muhfucka know what time it is.”
“Yeah, whatever. Niggas stay playin’ us. It is what it is. You play or get played; you already know.”
“What I know is, you gonna end up with ya grill wrecked if you don’t get ya mind right. It’s only a matter of time before the shit catches up to you, trust.”
We passed the blunt back ’n forth for a while, sayin’ nothin’. I left Chanel in her thoughts and she left me in mine. Me’Shell NdegéOcello’s song “Faithful” came on, and I smiled, shakin’ my head. How fittin’, I thought, hummin’ along. I guess she was right when she said no one is faithful.
My house phone rang again, breakin’ the silence. I ignored it. Chanel glared at me. I rolled my eyes, suckin’ my teeth. “Aiight, aiight,” I said, pickin’ it up and answerin’ it. It was Rosa again. “Hello.”
“Kat?”
“Yeah?”
“This is ya Aunt Rosa,” she said, soundin’ outta breath. I exhaled, pushin’ my plate to the side. “You need to get down to Kings County Hospital ASAP. That nigga ya moms is fuckin’ with done beat her ass. I told her not to fuck with that punk ass, but…”
I placed the phone up against my chest, coverin’ the receiver. “Bitch,” I hissed at Chanel, mean-muggin’ her ass. “Go downstairs to the bar and fix me a hit of Rémy.” She laughed, gettin’ up from her seat. “On second thought, make that shit two hits.”
I put the phone back up to my ear.
“…he done broke her jaw and beat her face in.”
I closed my eyes tight. Bit down on my bottom lip.
“We’ve been tryna reach ya ass all damn day,” another voice jumped in. I frowned. It sounded like Patrice, but I wasn’t sure.
“Who is this?” I asked, lightin’ another blunt. I already knew this conversation was gonna turn real messy in a few minutes.
“It’s Patrice,” she said, suckin’ her teeth.
“We’re on three-way,” Aunt Rosa stated.
“Why?” I
asked. Chanel came back into the kitchen with two drinks in her hand. I snatched the one she handed to me, gulped the shit down in one quick motion, then reached over and took hers from her and gulped that one down. The shit burned goin’ down.
“’Cause ya moms is in the fuckin’ hospital,” Patrice snapped. “And we’ve been blowin’ ya fuckin’ phone up, leavin’ messages ’n shit, and you don’t even have the decency to call a muthafucka back. Duh, now follow the yellow brick road, bitch.”
