My phone pinged with a location. My feet were moving before my mind could think to tell them to. I knew the area, so I already knew I had over an hour before I could get to her. I had no idea what I was walking into, but there was no doubt that I was going.
“I’m coming, baby.”
I would always go to her. No matter what. Just like I told her, all she had to do was call.
She called.
It felt like my heart would beat out of my chest as I called Carteay back for the fifth time. Something wasn’t right. I knew it. I could feel it. After a while, I decided that it might not be a good idea to keep calling. Instead of continuing to blow her up, I tossed my phone in the passenger seat as I continued to race down the highway.
She called.
She sent her location, and I pinned it down to Big Time Record label headquarters. What the hell was going on? It didn’t matter. She called. I told her that I would always come when she called. No matter how heartbroken or hurt I was, I was a man of my word above all else.
Big Time Records was an hour and a half away from my house. I probably made it there in half the time. I parked in front of the door and hopped out of my truck, making a dash for the door. Almost everything was on the second and third floor, so I headed straight for the elevator.
On the second floor, I rushed up to the desk where a girl with a big blonde afro usually sat. Today, it was deserted. In fact, I didn’t see anyone. Maybe because it was after hours. I didn’t give a damn what time it was. Carteay was here somewhere, and she needed me.
“Carteay!” I called her name just for the hell of it.
She was here. At least her phone was. Since there was no one at the desk, I moved down the hall looking for any sign of life. I felt like I’d gotten lucky when I heard voices coming from one of the offices on the hall. I stopped in my tracks and knocked on the door, then proceeded to open it without bothering to wait for a response. Knocking was just an announcement.
Lo and behold, the one and only Cy the Great sat on the edge of a desk talking to some corny looking dude in an expensive suit. My fingers were itching to wrap around Cyrus’s throat, but I had more pressing matters at hand. I needed him to be able to talk right now.
“Where is Carteay?” I asked, not bothering to waste time with pleasantries.
“Excuse me, nigga?” Cyrus asked, scowling as he stood to his feet.
“You don’t understand English or something? WhereisCarteay? She called and asked me to pick her up from here.”
“First of all, nigga, don’t ever bust up in here trying to regulate shit just ’cause you big as hell. That’s my bitch you’re referring to,” Cyrus barked.
See, I knew better than to try to do shit the easy way, but at least I tried. I could tell Kross that once the smoke cleared.Taking a step forward, I closed the space between us. The smile that spread across my lips was misleading. I always got excited when I had to get active.
“Do I look like a nigga that got time to tongue wrestle? Better yet, do I look like something to play with?” I asked, just to make sure he understood the severity of the situation.
Cyrus scoffed before answering my question. “Yeah, you kinda do, if I was an old G.I. Joe collecting type of dude.”
“That’s funny. You should try stand-up, man,” I said, closing the space between us as I snatched him to me and wrapped my bicep around his throat.
“Wait a minute!” the other guy yelled, jumping from his seat.
“Aht, aht,” I said, raising my brows, hoping all he needed was warning to stand down. Just in case it wasn’t, I yanked his phone out of his hand. I didn’t need him trying to call the goons in. I just wanted Carteay out of here right now. “We’re just talking. Right, Cy my guy?”
Of course, he couldn’t respond with my arm crushing his windpipe. A second ago, he wanted to be a comedian, but now as his arms flailed like crazy, I was sure he had made the decision to stick to his day job. Taking my attention off his guy, I looked back down at Cyrus.
“You know how much I want to end your pitiful life right now, boy? If that album wasn’t dropping soon, I would snap your fucking neck like a twig. I like your music though. Consider me a fan if you will. At the same time, I would hate for your album sales to go through the roof just because I killed your ass. Me liking all that hot shit you like to pop in your songs don’t give you a pass though, nigga. You can disappear too. While you’re calling me G.I. Joe, add magician to the list, pussy. Now, we’re going to do this one more time. I don’t like repeating myself, so consider yourself lucky. Where is Carteay?” I asked.
I held Cy in a chokehold for a few more seconds before releasing him. He stumbled away from me, almost falling when I let him go. He doubled over, coughing as he fought to catch his breath. I didn’t have time for this shit.
“Where the fuck is she?” I barked.
“I don’t know, man. She left.”
“Bullshit! Her location shows that she’s still here.”
“I ain’t her keeper. We were in the studio up until a little while ago. I thought she left.”
“You ain’t her keeper? You said that was your bitch, right? I should snatch your filthy tongue out your mouth for saying that. Is your mama a bitch, nigga? Say? Is that what you call your mother?”
