Tamera was pulled from my waist as quietly as possible. I wasn’t trying to alert her before I could get right. Quickly pushing the barrel to her dome, I put a halt to any further movements. Her gaze found mine in the rearview and for a split second, a nigga fell into a trance. She was a pretty lil’ something. She went to throw her hands up, and I shut that shit down before she could get them up good.
“Unt uhn!Put yo’ hands down and play it cool.” Her phone ringing in the mist of all this had begun to annoy me. I saw them wheels turning in her head knowing the type of timing she wanted to be on. “Answer the phone, then crank this muthafucka like ain’t shit wrong.”
“I have money. You can take it all,” she offered in a shaky tone. Yeah, she was scared as hell by now. Hearing shots go off in the mall then to have a gun at your head minutes later, I already knew what she was thinking.
I declined her offer and coached her through what to do. She followed each instruction even down to the conversation with the chick on the phone. Before I knew it, she was pulling out the deck and we were hitting the main road. I didn’t relax once. Tamera rested at the back of her neck through the headrest as she maneuvered through traffic abiding by the law like I advised.
The scent of shawty’s perfume was intoxicating as hell as it filled the car. She smelled so fuckin’ good, I found myself wanting to breathe that shit in directly off her skin. I just knew it was enhanced if done so.
Shaking that shit off, I refocused giving my attention to the task at hand. She was pulling into a gated community, and I had to say, if this was where she resided, I might’ve had to shoot my shot after this. A code was punched in on the dial pad to her left granting her access to it.
#1-3-0-3, remember that shit, Black.
She continued down the road passing mansion after mansion. Them muthafuckas had so much land attached to them it ain’t make no sense. Shawty wasn’t no regular bitch. She definitely had a nigga curious as to who the fuck she was.
Finally, she turned into a long curvy driveway where her crib sat away from the street. She could see her neighbors just fine, but they would damn near have to turn around to see her. This was exactly what a nigga needed to lay low for a while.
“Pull in the garage, cut the car off, and throw the keys back here,” I demanded.
“I can’t,” she said stopping at the garage door.
“The fuck you mean you can’t? Park this muthafucka and turn it the fuck off before you be asking Gabriel how the fuck he blow his horn,” I snapped.
“I have severe fibromyalgia and right now I’m having an episode, which means my body is in extreme pain. It hurts to lift a finger… and my body is probably about to lock up on me altogether. If you want me in the garage, you’ll have to press the button on the visor and open it for me.”
“Boy, it’s just my fuckin’ luck I end up with a goddamn cripple,” I said chuckling once again. I was in shock that something so pretty could be so damn deformed.
“I’m not a fuckin’ cripple you disrespectful piece of shit. I have a disorder that prohibits me from doing things at times, that’s it. Press the fuckin’ button!” she shouted.
Without hesitation, I hit the button on the visor like she stated and the door to the garage opened. She drove through, and I threw the car in park once she came to a complete stop. If she wasn’t able to open the garage door, I knew she wouldn’t be able to handle the gear shift. I went ahead and pressed the button to turn the car off as well.
I hopped out from the back and opened her door. “You got alarms and shit?” I asked hitting the button on the visor to close the garage door back. Her garage was bright supplying us with plenty light to see.
“Yeah, but I rarely use it. We don’t get bitch ass niggas like you ‘round these parts,” she sassed.
“You got a lot of mouth for a muthafucka that deserves a handicapped sticker.”
“Fuck you!”
“I’m sure you want to, but I’ll pass. OG ain’t gon’ show me no mercy for taking down one of his specials. Now, come on. I ain’t got all day.” I gestured for her to get out the car with my gun.
“If it’s not too much for your impatient ass, can you grab my crutch out the trunk?”
“Crutch? Aye, stop playing with me shawty. You walked out that mall just fine earlier. Get out the car before I hurt yo’ pretty ass for real,” I threatened her.
“I ain’t the only crippled one here. Seems like you’re hard of hearing. I can’t!” she shouted for the umpteenth time.
My gun was back in her face resting on the side of it. I was over this back and forth bullshit she was on. She was insulting my intelligence, and I wasn’t ‘bout to keep letting it happen. This wasn’t shit but a tactic for her to get me to let my guard down. I was detecting this shit from a mile away. She had to be slicker than that.
“This ain’t the time to test me, shawty. If you knew any better, you’d get with the fuckin’ program and do as a nigga say.”
“What’s your name?” Her question threw me off. I cocked my head to the side with dipped brows confused at where that came from.
“Why?” I countered.
Releasing a deep breath, she said, “You’re a slow individual and instead of me getting even more worked up, I’d rather try a different approach. I’m in enough pain as it is. Addressing you by your name, instead of bitch ass nigga might make a difference. So, what’s your name?” she asked again.
Smirking, I silently applauded the way she handled me. She wasn’t backing down or letting me talk to her crazy. This encounter was lowkey sparking my interest. I took a minute to take in her features since she ain’t have shit but time to sit there and wait on me.
