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“Milo, please. I just want to enjoy my ni—”
“You can leave voluntarily or involuntarily. The choice is yours, but either way, you leaving this motherfucking section, Nay.”
“Bro, what’s up with you?” Zane interfered, placing a hand on Milo’s chest.
My bowels began to move and I swore I’d ruin my panties at any second.
“Zane. Please. It’s just a misunder—”
“Nigga, if you don’t get your dick beaters off my chest and your hand from around my woman, I’m going to lay you out in this bitch.”
“Milo.”
“Nature, you know this nigga?”
“I’m the nigga dicking her down. Now, stay up out our business. Come on, Nay.”
“She ain’t got to go if—”
“Watch out, Nay,” Milo warned as he began to scoot backward, partially out of the booth.
“Milo, please.” I sighed, watching as he cocked back, his body demanding space beyond what was necessary. And before I could get another word out, he’d let off.
WHAM.
Zane’s body tumbled to the floor. Everything happened in slow motion. The drink in his hand fell along with him, spilling on my shoes and legs.
“My God!” I shrieked.
Gasps from everyone surrounding us could be heard above the music. Chaos was sure to follow the mess Milo had made. I looked up, examining the damage, fully expecting those around us to lunge forward, ready to brawl, but to my surprise, no one made a move.
Mercer, Makai, and Lawe stood shoulder to shoulder, arms folded in front of them with their fingers gripping pieces that would shut any party down and silence anyone from the section that got rowdy. Sadly, I knew that it wasn’t a front. Each and every one of them fully intended to use their weapons so that Milo wouldn’t have to.
They protected his career and livelihood as if he was the president of the United States. It had always been that way. He was their precious gem. He’d worked his butt off to gain his status and they refused to have it revoked, no matter the circumstances.
“Nay. Let’s roll.”
“I’m so sorry,” I apologized to everyone.
Carefully, I stepped over Zane’s body, nearly busting my knees as I fell face first. Quick on his toes, Milo managed to catch me mid-air. At that moment, I realized the drinks I’d consumed were kicking in.
“I got it,” I fussed. “I don’t need your help.”
“Cool, then, fall on your fucking face. Just make sure you do that shit over there,” he stated calmly, pointing to the section they had just left from.
Trying my hardest to conceal my true state and level of intoxication, I made my way over to their section. By now, there were bottles on their table, too. I plopped down in the first available space, which wasn’t too far from the edge. Milo sat down beside me.
“Fix your face,” he commanded. “Give me your foot. Let me make sure you ain’t break your fucking ankle.”
“I am an adult, Milo. I have every right to have fun and enjoy whoever I want to,” I slurred. “You had no right. That was egregious. Why would you hit him like that?”
“I’m going to go hit his ass again if you keep taking up for that lame ass nigga.”
“Ridiculous!”
He lifted my leg on his own after realizing I wouldn’t.
“I’ll be that. I told you, Nay. I’m done talking. You want action, then I’m going to give you just that. You want to be pursued, then don’t complain about my pursuit. If you want to have fun, you can have fun right here with me and my people. Here,” he said, pouring two small cups of liquor before handing me one. “Relax a little.”
