The man scrambled to his feet, shoulders shaking like he felt God tapping him on the back already.
“Yo, man, listen,” he rushed out. “I didn’t mean any of that shit I said about exposing you. I just, I got in over my head. I’m out here for my wedding, and my girl doesn’t know I’m even gambling. She got her heart set on some expensive-ass chapel down here, and I need a loan until I get back home to make the money. I swear I can pay it back. I promise.”
His voice cracked on that last word,promise.
I hated it when grown men sounded like children.
I stepped closer, sizing him up like a disappointed father. He looked like he was in his early thirties, but in my world, age didn’t make you a man; your decisions did. Anyone who gambles away their savings and then cries about it is a kid. A dumb fuckin kid at that.
“What do I look like taking a promise from a nigga I’ve never seen before?” I asked calmly. “You think I got all this by being stupid?”
His head dropped.
“No. No. I was just hoping that you’d have some compassion. My fiancée has been dreaming of this wedding for years. I don’t want to let her down. I can’t face her and tell her that I lost all the money trying to double it up.”
I glanced at Proctor, who was already yawning like this conversation put him to sleep. I know if I had no sympathy for this dude, he sure as hell didn’t. I was the more reasonable one out of the two of us.
“Listen, man, you don’t have to worry about facing your fiancée and telling her shit.”
A hopeful smile crawled onto his lips like a child expecting a hug.
“For real?” he breathed.
“Yep. She will never know that or what happened to you.” I slid my gun out slowly, watching the hope drain from him drop by drop.
His eyes widened, hands lifting a little like he wanted to shield himself from my wrath.
I fired three rounds into his chest, each one punching him backward until he slid down the wall, his blood seeping through his shirt and onto the floor.
“Damn,” Proctor said, laughing under his breath as he stared at the body.
“You a cold-hearted motherfucker boy.”
“I learned from the most cold hearted nigga I know. My pops.”
Proc smiled proudly.
“I love you, son.”
“Love you back.” I stepped back, pocketing the gun.
“Now, in the future, don’t interrupt me anymore at this time of night. Get rid of this nigga and shut the casino down. I’m not in the mood to kill another nigga today.”
Proc nodded his head okay, and then I walked off from them.
I hope I could slide in one more round with the bitches I have upstairs.Shit maybe two the way ol girl pussy felt.
Chapter 3
Ari
11:30 am
Who would’ve thought that in the middle of December, I’d be headed to a damn pool party, but here I was, walking through the Aria Hotel in my favorite cheetah-print swimsuit that was peeking through a matching cover-up. Back home, around this time, I’d be in D.C. bundled up to my chin, praying for the Metro not to break down and fighting that harsh ass winter wind that felt like it had a personal vendetta. But here, it was seventy-three degrees, and the Sun was shining like it was June. This was exactly why I knew this was all meant to be.
All those nights I spent stripping for extra money, doing splits on stages, and dancing for men who smelled like whiskey and disappointment wasn’t an ideal job for a woman in a relationship. Still, it got me the money I needed to take care of home and plan this wedding during the holidays. Josiah and I had big dreams of a wedding in the Bahamas, or a Jamaican wedding, but dreams cost money, and reality kept slapping us back into place. At first, he promised he’d grind as hard as I did for our wedding, but that man loved wasting money like it was a sport. Sneakers, PS5 games, and “business investments” that never turned any profit. First, it was the gambling parlors, thenhe tried to open up a sneaker shop to sell the same shoes niggas could get at the mall for a lower price. The latest venture was his investment in a tech company he swears will make us millions. He had me put my card on file and submit a $2,000 investment months ago, and the most I’ve gotten back from that is fifty funky ass dollars.
I didn’t mind being the breadwinner for a while because he had held us down when I couldn’t keep a job to save my life. All I could get was seasonal hires at places like Macy’s, Dillard’s, or whatever store was desperate enough to pay me pennies to clean up holiday messes, but they never lasted. Stress had me losing so much weight that one night, I put on lingerie and Josiah told me,
