AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t have to believe shit. Did you tell this bitch that Jasper whoops my ass or not?”
I smirk.
“Well, I, uh, mighta . . . ”
Slap! Miss Pasha reaches over the counter and takes it to Miss Messy’s face. “Bitch, pack your shit and get the fuck outta my shop. You’re fired! And, niggah,”—she turns to Jasper, lungin’ the shears she’s holdin’ in her hand at him—“I want you out . . . of my house . . . before me and my son get the fuck home! Now all of you get the fuck out of my salon!”
Forty-Three
“Yo, Ma,” Darius says. The niggah finally decides to call me a week later. Ooh, but I’m so glad to hear his voice deep, raspy voice. It sounds like he’s smokin’ a blunt, too. And right now I ain’t sayin’ shit. I’m keepin’ it real classy and lettin’ him talk shit. I step outta the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my body. I was gettin’ ready to hop in the shower when he called. Well, actually, I was gettin’ ready to take a shit—since the two Ex-Lax I took had my stomach rumblin’—then take a shower. I clutch my stomach.
“All that shit you was talkin’ is crazy, yo. You was dead wrong for leavin’ me that crazy-ass message like that, Ma. And yeah, I’m still fuckin’ pissed at you, yo. But I’ma get over it ’cause you right. I ain’t ever gonna stay mad at you long.”
I smile, droppin’ my towel. “I know you not, boo. But you ain’t have’ta do Day’Asia like that, Darius. You lumped her head up real good. She was dazed for a good five minutes, too.”
“Oh, well. That’s what da fuck she gets. It was either hit her or you. And you know I ain’t ever gonna put my hands on you. I don’t care how hot you get me. I’ll walk up and break a niggah’s jaw first before I ever do some shit like that. But, real shit, Ma. You gonna have’ta stop wit’ da hands shit. I’ma grown man wit’ a son of my own. I ain’t beat for you tryna yoke me up anytime you want.”
I roll my eyes. “Boo, puhleeze. Ya dingaling might be grown, but you always gonna be my baby. And I will go upside ya head if you tryna do me. And you know I don’t be tryna bring it to you unless you do me, boo. Same thing with these fools in the streets. If anything, I stay tryna keep it classy. But y’all like to see me kick it up to ghetto.”
He laughs, then starts chokin’ on weed smoke. “Yo, you shot out, Ma.”
“Shot out nothin’. You know . . . ” I pause when my doorbell starts ringin’. Someone’s pressin’ down on it like they done lost their goddamn mind. Who in the hell is at my goddamn door, I think, slippin’ on a robe, then swingin’ my hips to the door. “ . . . don’t like bein’ caught up in no drama. And I ain’t out lookin’ for none.”
“Yo, Ma, real shit, for someone who hates drama that shit seems to always find you.”
“That’s because”—I swing open the door without peekin’ through the curtains or lookin’ outta the peephole—“I don’t . . . niggah, what the fuck—”
He grabs me by the throat with a black gloved hand, slammin’ the door behind him. “Bitch, you don’t know when to keep ya muthafuckin’ shit shut, do you? I fuckin’ told you I was gonna fuck you up if you kept runnin’ ya shit, talkin’ reckless.” He punches me. And it feels like the niggah took a baseball bat to my face. I try to fight him.
“Motherfucka, is you crazy, bitch?!” I swing at him and he punches me again. This time knockin’ me over the sofa. I hear Darius on the phone yellin’, but somehow I done dropped the phone when he grabbed me by the throat.
“You wanna run ya muthafuckin’ mouth, bitch!”
“Aaaaah, get the fuck off’a me, niggah! Have you lost ya goddam mind, niggah-bitch?!” I snatch a lamp from off’a the table and crack him upside the head with it, but it don’t take him down. He punches me so hard I think I’m havin’ an out-of-body experience. Pain shoots through me. I hit the floor. He grabs me by the ankles and tries to drag me toward him, but I am kickin’ him wildly.
I try to fight and kick him off me. He pounces on me. The niggah is stronger than I thought. I can still hear Darius callin’ out to me. I’m thankful this nigga is too crazed to hear him too. He wraps his hands around my neck and starts shakin’ me. “You don’t know who da fuck you fuckin’ wit’, bitch! I warned you not to test me, didn’t I, bitch?”
He squeezes my neck tighter, causin’ me to gasp. “You wanna be all down at Pasha’s shop runnin’ ya muthafuckin’ mouth, huh, bitch? I’ma knock ya shit shut for good, bitch!” He punches me in the mouth. Blood splashes out.
Ohmygod, this crazy niggah’s gonna kill me!
I knee him in the balls and he lets go. I roll over and try to get away from him. Try to get to my phone. “Fuckin’ bitch!” He punches me again. Then grabs me by the back of my head, wrappin’ his thick fingers in my weave and yankin’ my head back. “Slutty, whore-ass bitch! I fuckin’ warned ya ass, yo!”
He yanks me up like a rag doll. He punches me in the face again. Something cracks. Then he swings me into a wall. “Why da fuck you had’a go up in there and say all that shit to Pasha, yo?! Huh, bitch?!”
The only thing I keep thinkin’ is that I can’t let this niggah kill me. I can’t let my babies walk up in here and find me dead. He punches me again. But I ain’t gonna let him shut my lights out without a good goddamn fight. And you know I love a good fight.
I fight him with all I got. I claw him, bite him, kick him. I let this niggah know I ain’t some lightweight bitch. If I can just get my hands on one of the knives I keep hidden around the house in case I gotta gut a niggah up real quick. I’m up on my knees, crawlin’. JT kicks me in the ass.
“When I finish wit’ you, bitch, you gonna wish you were dead. I paid to have ya muthafuckin’ face fixed, now I’ma be da niggah who wrecks it.”
Oh Gawd. This niggah is about to do me good!
I pull myself up on the sofa, barely seein’ outta my right eye. I can tell he got my shit droopin’ like old granny drawers. He punches me in the back of the head, then pins me down. I hear him unbucklin’ his pants. His hot breath is in my ear.
“Bitch, before I gut ya face, I’ma fuck you in ya ass, then scrape ya insides out wit’ the same blade I fuck ya face up wit’. When I’m done wit’ ya slutty ass, no other niggah’s gonna ever wanna fuck wit’ you. I’ma cut ya muthafuckin’ pussy out.”
I keepin’ thinkin’ how this niggah’s gonna tear my face to shreds, then take my money makers from me. He’s gonna gut my h
