“You said it.” Henna shrugged and snickered.
“No, you said it!” Giselle aimed a finger in her face and stepped past Maisie.
“G, calm down.” Her cousin reached for her arm.
“No, if she’s feeling froggy, by all means… leap,” Henna encouraged, sliding off her stool so she and Giselle could go toe to toe.
“For the sake of Harlee and Heir, can we please put the bullshit to the side?” Maisie requested.
“Because of her, I don’t even have a relationship with my brother’s kids, and neither does he. Now, Heavy might be okay and give you a pass, but that doesn’t mean I have to.”
“My kids have been here for almost a week now, and you have made no effort to get to know them through Heavy or me?—”
“I ain’t gotta go through you for shit! Those are his kids too!” Henna pointed to the VIP section, drawing attention from people nearby. “I don’t know what he sees in your little snobby ass anyway! The only reason you here now, even allowing himto claim them, is because your husband left you and robbed you blind!”
Anger getting the best of her, Giselle lunged at Henna, but a set of strong arms pulled her back.
“Fall back,” Heavy said in her ear, pulling her in the opposite direction of his sister. “Henna, the fuck is your problem?”
“Mine?” his sister shrieked, eyes bucking as she pressed her hand to her chest. “You keep defending this bitch like she’s a fucking angel or something. How is it you can hold grudges against the whole fucking world, and this bitch betrays you in one of the worst ways, but you giving her the benefit of the doubt? I’m your sister, and Prischa’s been your friend since y’all was kids! Aside from her having your babies, you don’t know her! Our own mother isn’t given that courtesy from you. Why the fuck is she so deserving of it?”
The minute the words left her lips, and Henna saw the anger reflecting behind eyes that mirrored her own, she knew she’d fucked up. Heavy’s jaw locked tight, and Prischa stepped up behind his twin. His mother was a touchy subject for various reasons, and nobody knew that better than her.
“Hen, let’s go,” Prischa urged with a hand against her shoulder.
Hesitant, Henna allowed her to push her past Heavy and Giselle toward the nearest exit. It was one thing to go at it with family behind closed doors, but Heavy always made it a point not to move like that in public, and Henna knew that. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shook his head and left Giselle with Maisie so he could grab some fresh air on the terrace. Tobacco smoke was not allowed inside the club, so this was also where most people gathered to puff their cigarettes.
“It’s a room full of bad bitches in there tonight!” some random nigga with locs came out to announce drunkenly.
Rel stood off in a corner with one of his partners, smoking a cigarette and gripping a bottle of Perrier Jouet in his hand.
Heavy strutted over to the one spot on the wall where he could hold up and not be bothered while trying to calm the fuck down. He and his twin had been through things before, but this was something else. Jealousy brewed under her skin for Giselle, and not just because of Prischa. The two shared a womb, and Henna always thought she would hold the key to her brother’s heart. Nobody got him like she did. It was a little twisted for her to want to keep him to herself, but she was Heavy’s emotional security blanket. She feared what that would do in the hands of someone else. She wasn’t so much threatened by Prischa because they grew up together. She knew her. Giselle was a different story, and so far, Henna wasn’t impressed.
“Yo, Heavy.” Rel stumbled over to him, eyes low and red. “What’s up with mama you rolled on me for?”
Heavy’s head swiveled toward him, hand still clasped together as he rested against the barrier and took in his city. The streetlights were on, and Frenzy wasn’t the only spot on this block. There were corner stores plus a couple of bars for the old heads to go to. Most of the food spots knew to stay open until at least 2:00 a.m., so they could catch the club crowd.
“Why you asking?”
“I’m saying, you got all the bitches already.” Rel chuckled and shrugged his shoulders playfully. “Can a nigga slide on something?”
“Tread lightly, Rel. You can slide all you want, but that ain’t your speed. For you and anybody that’s asking, that’s the mother of my children. Two of ’em. I don’t play about none of ’em. If anybody needs a demonstration on how I get down, tell ’em holla at me.”
“Can you believe this?’ Henna griped, stumbling out of the club’s exit doors with Prischa into the cool mid spring evening.
The navy sky sprinkled with twinkling stars guided them across the lot to Prischa’s parked car.
“Yo, where the fuck y’all going?” Viggo called out, stumbling out of the back exit behind them.
“We’re leaving,” Prischa answered, heels clicking against the pavement as the wind swept around them.
She pulled her peacoat a little tighter around her.
“Fuck. Well, y’all my ride, so I guess I’m leaving, too.” He jogged to catch up with them as they neared Prischa’s car. “The fuck happened?”
“That bitch Giselle happened.” Henna seethed. “My brother is switching up for a bitch who kept his kids from him and wants everybody else to let it go too.”
Prischa hit the fob to her car, and the doors unlocked for them to climb inside.
