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“Niggah, you don’t know me like that. Have we fucked? It’s Big Booty. Somethin’ your woman wishes she had. Not no motherfuckin’ Booty. Don’t get it twisted . . . ”
“Wait a minute, bitch,” Dickalina snaps. “What you tryna say? That my ass is flat? Well, my man loves my ass just the way it is. Thank you very much.”
I ignore her. “Let me tell you somethin’, Knutz—you ain’t shit, niggah, okay. Lina is the only ho dumb enough to put up with your triflin’ ass and you walk around here givin’ her your shitty drawz to eat . . . ”
“I ain’t dumb,” she says, suckin’ her teeth. “Stop callin’ me that.”
“You are too dumb, ho, for lettin’ this motherfucka keep shittin’ on you. He can’t even bring his sorry ass down here to help your drunk ass up in the motherfuckin’ buildin’. Fuck this niggah. He done pissed me off now.”
“Damn, Cassie,” he says, soundin’ offended. “You don’t have’ta go in on me like that. I don’t want no problems wit’ you.”
“I know you don’t, niggah. So get your black ass down here and come get your woman before I run up on you with a hammer and knock them big-ass fronts out your raggedy-ass mouth.”
He laughs it off. But I’m fuckin’ serious. And he knows it. I can’t stand him. And I’ve been lookin’ for a reason to set it off on his ass. He might beat up on Dicklina’s dizzy ass, but I’m not the one. “Aiight-aiight. I got you. Give me a sec to put some drawers on. I’ll be right down.”
Ugh! I disconnect, handin’ back her phone. “He’ll be down in a minute.”
“Ohmygod, girl, why’d you do that? You’re always startin’ shit. Now I’ma have’ta hear his mouth all fuckin’ night.”
I glance at the time. I can’t believe I’ve been out here with this ho for almost fifteen damn minutes. “Bitch, I got his ass to come down to get your drunk ass. So don’t pop shit to me. Next time handle your damn liquor and we won’t have to go through all this dumb shit.”
My cell vibrates.
“Here comes Knutz’s dumb ass now,” she says, stumblin’ out of my truck. I watch as her ass hits the ground, pullin’ out my phone.
“Damn, girl, you fucked up,” he says, helping her up off the ground.
“I told you to come help me, Knutz. You want me to suck your dick and nuts real good, baby, huh?”
I let out a disgusted sigh. I glance at my screen. It’s a text from my twins’ fahver, Vernon. Baby Daddy Number Eight.
I WANNA C U
“Nah, you good,” Knutz says to Dickalina. “Maybe in the mornin’, baby. I’ma eat that drunk pussy though, aiight? You can swallow these nuts later.”
I roll my eyes, textin’ back. NIGGAH WHERE’S MY CHILD SUPPORT CK?
“Listen, motherfucka,” I snap at Knutz. “Shut my motherfuckin’ door!”
He lifts Dickalina up over his shoulder, shuttin’ the door. “Cass—”
“Niggah, don’t say shit to me,” I snap, rollin’ the window up in his face. Busted-ass motherfucka!
I GOT IT W/ME ALONG W/THIS BIG AZZ DICK
I suck my teeth, textin’ back. FUCK ALL THAT SMILEY FACE SHIT. BRING MY $!!!!!
Ten
“Damn, Cass,” he says the minute I step out of my truck and walk toward him. He’s leanin’ up against the side of his Lexus. Tall, jet-black skin with thick waves and a nice juicy, black dick, he’s looking real fuckable in his True Religion jeans, pullover and Timbs. He has a dark-colored fitted pulled down over his eyes. I swear if the niggah wasn’t so fucked up in the head, he’d be a good catch. But there are three things wrong with his ass. Okay, four. One, he’s a chronic liar. Two, he’s a chronic manipulator. And, three, he’s chronically full of shit. And four, the niggah’s credit is all fucked up. I must have been trippin’ off of some serious wet to have ever gotten caught up with his ass. And had his triflin’ ass not been pokin’ holes in the condoms I wouldn’t be standin’ here looking at his dumb ass now.
He licks his lips. “Took you long enough.”
I roll my eyes, holdin’ out my hand. “Whatever, Vernon. Give me my money.” He grabs my hand instead and pulls me into him, reekin’ of weed and alcohol.
“Fuck outta here. Let me get some tongue. I’ve missed you, girl.”
He tries to kiss me. I frown, pushin’ him back. “Wrong answer. I want my money.”
