“No, I told you I’m trying to slow down. I don’t need to be high to have a good time, Dexter. I’m fine, let’s go back out there.”
“Since when don’t you wanna vibe with ya nigga? That’s what we do, get fucked up and make good music.”
“I can vibe without all the extra shit, plus my stomach been messed up. Drinking, smoking, and taking ecstasy is going to further irritate the problem.”
“You pregnant?”
“What? No.”
“Then I’m not trying to hear that shit. If my seeds aren’t growing inside of you, we about to get fucked up.”
“You can do whatever you like, but I'm good.”
Dexter scratched the back of his head and stared at Tyler. He wasn’t used to her declining his advances. Normally, she was down for whatever. At the moment, she was giving square vibes, and he didn’t like it.
“Aight, man,” he scoffed. “I’m about to go to the club with these niggas, I need a lil inspiration. Put some clothes on, I called downtown and got us a section.”
“No, you can go ahead, I'mma stay here and write. I told you I’ve been working on a project of my own.”
“Man, nah, you can work on that lil shit later. Get dressed, you coming out with me.”
“I’m good. I’m going to stick around here.”
“So you choosing working on some bullshit over me?” He pouted.
“Dex, you can’t be serious right now.” Tyler laughed in his face. “You’re high and you sound like a three-year-old. If I’m telling you I don’t wanna do something, then that’s what it is. You acting like you’re my daddy or something.”
“Like you know what having a daddy looks like,” he shot, causing Tyler’s eyes to buck.
“Wow.” She shook her head. “See if I was high, I would hit you in the back of the head with this lamp and stab yo dumb ass with the glass, but I’mma let you slide because for once I see what it’s like on the other side.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Dexter thumbed his nose, slowly approaching her. “You think you’re better than me? Now that your fluke ass is trying to be sober, you think you’re better.”
“I don’t think I’m better, Dex. I know I am.” Tyler smirked, infuriating him.
Before she could move around, Dexter grabbed Tyler by the throat and slammed her on the bed. He dug his knees into her thighs, making them part while pinning her arms above her head.
“Bitch, I made you!” he spewed in her face. “I fucking made you and what I say goes. Don’t ever forget that shit. You’re mine.” Dexter released her hands and started pulling at her shorts. “You need a lil dick to loosen up?”
“Dexter, you're high and trying it. Get the fuck off me,” Tyler gritted, tussling with his roaming hands.
“So I can’t get none of this damaged pussy either, huh? What kinda bitch can’t cum?”
“What kinda nigga can’t make me cum?”
Whap!
His large hand popped her in the mouth.
Whap!
He smacked her again.
“Watch who the fuck you talking to,” he growled in her face. “You ain’t shit without me, these niggas will never treat you like I do.”
“Good, because you treat me like shit!” Tyler screamed, trying to grab his face.
“Aye nigga, we-” Marty opened the bedroom door, pausing when he saw the couple tussling. Without hesitation, he ran over to them, pulling Dexter off Tyler. “Bro, the fuck is you doing? This ya girl.”
