Demi knew his money wouldn’t be a problem again. Both he and Frankie knew that he had gotten off easy. Demi was known for his murder game. He had a reputation for two things: getting money and being heartless. He had killed without remorse for much smaller offenses than the one Frankie had committed.
The barking that broke up her sleep made Charlie groan in complaint as she tried to hold onto the dream she had been indulged in.
“Okay, okay, Bails. Mama’s coming,” she whispered to herself as she climbed up, glancing up at the sky and then down at the evidence of last night’s events. When she saw the stack of money beside her, she gasped. “What the fuck is wrong with him?” she said. Ten thousand dollars for a song, and her company apparently, was the going rate. Charlie picked up the money and his card before rushing inside.
“Come on, boy,” Charlie said as Bails followed her inside. She put the money in her nightstand and then plopped down on her bed, tapping his card against her palm, biting her lip as she thought about calling him. “What you think, Bails? To keep or return the money? That is the question,” she said. She dialed the first three digits of his number and then stopped.
“He’ll call,” she said to herself. Her ringing doorbell pulled her to her feet and Bails led the way to answer.
Charlie knew who it was before she even pulled open the door.
“Only you would lay on my doorbell, you asshole,” Charlie greeted, stepping aside to let her sister in.
“Bitch, my hands full as fuck. It was either lean against the doorbell or drop breakfast all over your porch.”
Stassi handed a bag of groceries to Charlie as they made their way to the kitchen.
“Why do you look like you been freshly fucked?” Stassi said as she put the bags on the table.
Charlie frowned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Charlie’s words denied what her face revealed.
“Then why you looking like you looking? Like good dick just snuck up out of here through the back door?” Stassi asked.
Charlie pulled the contents from the bag and her guilty smile made her sister’s mouth drop.
“Charlie!” Stassi exclaimed. “The guy from last night? The random? You slept with a nigga on the first night?”
Stassi and her assumptions. They seemed to come one after the other these days. Charlie knew she didn’t have the best track record with men, but she did have some standards in place.
“Relax. You always got to take it all the way. I didn’t sleep with him. We just talked,” Charlie said. “He was...” Charlie paused and scoffed as her mind ventured to the night before. “…weird,” she finished.
“Weird?” Stassi questioned.
“That’s the only way to explain him,” Charlie replied as she pulled the mixing bowl out of her cupboard.
Charlie stood in her kitchen in boy shorts and her midriff shirt, mixing pancakes as she thought of calling him.
“He left his card,” Charlie said.
“Doesn’t mean you have to call,” Stassi said.
Of course, she would say that. It was the opposite of what Charlie wanted to do; it was just like Stassi to be judgmental.
“But would it really hurt to just call?” Charlie asked, skeptically.
“You like him?” Stassi asked, shocked. “What happened to your plan, Charlie? You know, focus on yourself, heal? You’re just now starting to get your shit together.”
“What are you talking about?” Charlie said defensively. “He was company for one night. You act like I’m marrying him or something, Stassi, damn.”
“I’m just making sure you’re okay. You don’t have to jump right back into something just because you’re lonely. Just slow it down.”
“I’m not afraid to be alone,” Charlie said, irritation lacing her tone. “And who made this rule that you have to be alone to heal, anyway? What if you find someone that accelerates the healing?”
“Niggas like the one you were with last night do more damage,” Stassi said. “Trust.”
“I’m not talking about him. I can’t speak to who he is and I’m never vouching for a nigga I don’t know cuz a nigga will have you defending him knowing he foul. I’m just saying in general.” Charlie poured the pancake batter onto the electric griddle, making six perfect circles. “I don’t have to seclude myself to love myself better. I got this. I don’t need you down my back watching my every move. Just be here.”
“Alright, Charlie,” Stassi said skeptically. “You remember what happened last time...”
