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“Which is?”
“Hollywood.Rich—”
My brows shot up. Then I made a show of gesturing the luxurious kitchen webothknew Jas expensed for his family. “Are you sure you wanna go there?”
She rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth. “You know what the fuck I mean.”
I shifted my head to the side. “Actually, I don’t. I didn’t know I was a kind. Again, what kind?”
“He ain’t all over social media, telling his business. I ‘on’t even think that nigga know whatTikTokis. Sin ain’t flashy or none of that shit. I know you the reason he out here.” She tossed her three-inch loud nails in the air, referring to the posh estate. “Thisain’t Sin speed even though he got it. So, if that’s the type of niggas you into, go ahead somewhere else with that. We real niggas and bitches over here. We do real shit that’ll scar pretty faces—shiiit, make muthafuckas disappear. We ride for ours. I’m just saying, choose wisely ‘bout hittin’ a lick.”
“Are you implying I’m using Jas for likes and comments or his money?”
“I see the car you drive, the designer shit. Postin’ that glam shit on theGramfor all them people to see. You got all them people following you to see what your ex was doing.” Her meaty arm thrashed the air and Tanya shook her head. “Look, I ‘on’t know what the fuck you around himfor—”
“Easily because you don’t know me. I have my own money for my own car and clothes. My following onInstagram,TikTok, and everywhere else are purely generated by my hard work. I’m an artist and entrepreneur. I don’t need a damn man for followers or to maintain my lifestyle. So, again, I ask, what’s my kind?”
“Man, I ‘on’t even be gettin’ in the O.G.’s business like that. All I’m sayin’ is Sin need a real bitch. He a made nigga. Andreal, made niggas need real bitches.”
“Like Samona?”
Tanya laughed, waving me off with that free hand. “Man, look atchu. That’s some old shit. You insecure about a ex that don’t give a fuck about nothing. She ‘on’t even know you exist, yo. Plus, Sin and Mona deaded that shit while he was biddin’. She wit her new man, happy and shit.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “Really?” My lips drew up to appear in a contemplative state. “Are we sure about her not knowing me? You do…and from social media where life ain’t real. And are we also sure she lost all feelings for him while he was in prison?” My face contorted in confusion even more.
Either Tanya didn’t know about Jas and Samona hooking up when he was first released or she didn’t know I did. And I never forgot them furtively talking about me the first time I visited Tanya’s home for Sean’s birthday party. Women know women, especially with that catty number they pulled. Jas was a god amongst his tribe, and that had been proven to me each time I’d been with them. So, Samona visiting that day was clearly about Jas. I almost wondered if he made sure Samona wasn’t present for the card game, knowing I’d be there. Tanya knew that answer.
I drew in a deep breath, standing straight from the island. “Well, this Ted talk has been nice. At least you confirmed one thing for me.”
“I ain’t confirm shit,” she barked defensively.
I nodded. “You did. I’m a bad bitch—no.” Grinning confidently, I shook my head. “I’mthatbitch for Jas.”
“Puh.” She snickered, though I knew Tanya found nothing funny. “Crazy how I’ve known that nigga all his life. Sin family, ma-ma. Never forget!”
Done with this conversation, I started out of the kitchen. “Yeah, but you and I both know yesterday’s Sin ain’t today’s Jas.”
I tossed her a wink, and after that, there was nothing more to say.
A ripple of cool air hit my body.
I was miserably hot. Again. It’s what they wanted. In solitary confinement, basic human rights were granted at a bare minimum. The winters were teeth-chattering, and you met Satan in the summer. In fact, that nigga was around this bitch all the time. He was the only loyal figure here in the hole: even the guards changed shifts. But the devil welcomed you to his home and talked to you. He brought comfort to do whatever you wanted in his home.
If you wanted to scream, you’d yell as loud as you want and he would encourage it. If you wanted to just talk, he was right there for that. He never told a soul your shit. The guards could only hear what you said, so some niggas resorted to whispering. The devil was a decent sparring partner, too. You could throw the one-twos. Just don’t let him get near a wall. He loved that shit. Get your knuckles busted, sending shards of pain up your arms and into your chest. That, added to the haunted energy of hopelessness, a broken mind, and abandoning the despair.End it all. Fucking permanently. The devil was down with that shit in his house, too.
But today felt different. That rare breeze had my damp skin cooling me. That instantly, no longer was I insufferably hot. In fact, the temperature for once was just right. Shit. I could sleep the damn day away at this rate. I could breathe freely. Could pretend being somewhere else—any fucking where—other than Satan’s crib. And it felt good.
Shit…
Horns. I could hear horns. Then other instruments…like an ensemble of them. Strings, drums, andbold horns. Winds. I could hear that shit, too.Feelit. When a choir sounded, I questioned my sanity.Again. That particular checkup was regular here in the den. You heard and felt shit differently in here. But this… The ascension in harmony gave off a vibe. The marriage of the notes, choir, and horns all felt like a celestial experience.
The fuck?
There was a gravitational pull I didn’t want to fight. Not like I did the devil when in here. He was a seductive manipulator, I knew it. There was no confusion.But with this… It felt fucking good. Flat on my back with arms stretched wide, my body was ascending, too. I was climbing and the higher I reached, my body began warming from my belly. The shit felt so good, I couldn’t stop it if I knew how to. The melody played for so long the musical piece felt familiar.
Then I could hear another sound I’d been conversant with. Slathering, stroking.Suckin—
I fought to break from my trance becausethis shit ain’t never happen before.
