Pressure turned the truck off and looked at me. “A’ight. I’m goin’ in.”
“With both babies?” I asked.
He blinked slow. “You holdin’ the babies. You the godfather. Congratulations.”
He unbuckled his seatbelt and pointed at me like he was assigning a mission. “Don’t let nobody touch my kids. Don’t let nobody breathe too close to my kids. Don’t let nobody come up to the window, and if somebody look suspicious, throw somethin’ at they ass.”
I shook my head ’cause he really meant that shit.
He got out and shut the door hard, then pulled his hood up and walked toward the club like a man about to drag two women out by they fuckin’ wigs.
Levels Night Club
Me and Pluto decided to take a break from our husbands, and live it up a lil’, ‘cause between Kay’Lo losin’ his damn mind about every tiny thing and Pressure actin’ like Pluto was a damn blow-up doll, we deserved some fresh air, some music, and some liquor that wasn’t poured in the kitchen.
We had us a whole section in the corner of the lounge, away from the crowd but close enough to feel the bass thumpin’ beneath our feet. They brought out bottles, sparkles, hookah, wings, everything we needed for a girls’ night that was long overdue. The lounge was packed in a fun way, not a rowdy way, and everybody around us was just vibin’, dancin’, smokin’, flirtin’, and mindin’ they business. Me and Pluto fit right in, twomarried women hidin’ from our chaotic ass husbands for just one night.
Pluto had on this cute lil’ black dress that hugged her body soft, and she kept swayin’ side to side, goin’ from gigglin’ to dancin’ to takin’ shots with me. Her hair was perfect, her perfume was floatin’ in the air, and she looked like she actually remembered what it felt like to have fun before she had two babies back-to-back. I was loungin’ on the couch with the hookah hose in my hand, blowin’ cherry mint smoke in slow circles while my song came on.
“Bitch, this my shit,” I said, gettin’ up and movin’ my hips while Pluto laughed at me.
“You drunk already,” she teased, takin’ a sip of her drink.
“I’m not drunk,” I said, holdin’ my cup up. “I’m unwindin’. Bitch, you the drunk one.”
She laughed again and clinked her glass with mine, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t somebody’s wife or somebody’s caretaker or somebody’s emotional punchin’ bag. I was just Toni, havin’ a good night with my girl.
We had about an hour left before the lounge closed, so we was really in our element. I was dancin’ while Pluto hyped me up, then she got up and started movin’ with me, and we was yellin’ the words to the song like we was really some damn gangstas. The hookah smoke drifted through the lights above us, the DJ switched tracks, and the whole place felt warm and carefree.
Then… somethin’ made me pause.
I felt a weird sting at the back of my neck. It was the type you get when somebody’s starin’ at you or when the vibe shifts just enough to make your brain pay attention.
I glanced toward the crowd.
Somebody tall walked past the main walkway in that slow, irritated, deadly way a certain nigga I knew did whenever he walked into a room mad as hell.
I blinked twice.
“Pluto…” I whispered without lookin’ away.
She was too busy dancin’ to notice the panic buildin’ in my chest.
At first I thought I was trippin’. Maybe the liquor was makin’ me hallucinate big-bearded husbands with attitude problems. Maybe it was just another tall dark-skinned nigga with a hoodie on, movin’ through the crowd.
Then I saw him again.
The same height.
The same build.
The same “I’m lookin’ for somebody to drag up outta here” energy radiatin’ off him.
The nigga walked past the lights again, and this time he pushed somebody out his damn way. The dude barely bumped him, and he still shoved his shoulder like he was clearin’ a path.
There was no mistakin’ that energy.
My heart did a whole somersault.
