Relic leaned in his chair, sipping his fourth shot of the night while watching Kennedy rap Aura’s verse in front of Tima’s camera setup with her friends, hyping her antics. A corner of his mouth crooked up when she shook her wrist in the air, flaunting her tennis bracelet, before she spun to twerk in jeans so low, they barely covered her ass crack or silver chain thong. Kennedy was putting on a show, and he was enjoying the view to keep his mind off the bullshit he knew was brewing as they partied.
He licked his lips and then slouched in his seat before tossing the rest of his drink back. When he reached for one of the two bottles, that were stationed at each table in their private balcony section, for a refill, Kennedy glanced over at him and hiked a brow. Relic huffed as she sashayed up to him and rested her palms on his thighs to lean close like she didn’t care who was watching their exchange.
“What number is that, Relic?”
“Three.”
She backhanded his chest. “That’s five, you liar! Just because I’m enjoying myself doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention.”
He hummed and linked a finger into her thong chain while sweeping his eyes over her skimpy attire. Relic had almost sent her ass back to the dressing room when she’d moseyed into their section wearing a long sleeve, cropped shirt held together on the sides by silver chains, the same as her panties. Her braless breasts were exposed through the openings, and so was her flatstomach, reminding him how his little soldiers weren’t doing their fucking job. His eyes dipped to the dagger pumps covering her pretty toes before rerouting to her crotch. He frowned.
“I’ve never seen a pair of jeans that start at the pussy area before. That’s new.”
Kennedy cackled. “Relic, stop it. This is the style now. Besides, Lexi picked it out for Aura, but she went with the shorts and boots, so I borrowed this.”
“Now, the outfit makes more sense.”
Relic ran his fingers through her thick head of hair he had watched her layer, bump, and wrap before they’d left the house earlier. It was his favorite style after the braids.
“Y’all better stop touching each other before you end up on social media as a home wrecker, Kenn Dog,” Shabu joked as he dropped into a seat at the table. “Why you got my wife drunk and showing her ass tonight? Whoop is on one, fasho.”
Kennedy smirked before glancing over her shoulder, watching her girls turn up to the label’s performance that had everyone out of their seats since it’d started. Lexi was shaking her ass in a bubble mini skirt that barely covered her cheeks, while Savvy smacked it, and Nubia recorded while holding her cup in front of the camera. Tima was on her live beside them, puffing a blunt that was prohibited, and Toot was chilling because if she did too much, Shabu would notice the cup in her hand she wasn’t supposed to have. A smile bloomed on Kennedy’s face because it was nice seeing her crew outside of grind mode.
“She’s having fun,” she told Shabu. After stealing the cup from Relic to drink the shot he poured, she tacked on, “I like that you don’t try to tame Savvy or steal her shine. I know Relic jokes you about it, but you let her strive for her goals, and you don’t make her feel trapped by the kids or like she can’t have a life. You don’t make her feel like she’s nothing without you.”
“Appreciate ya, but I’m her husband. You’re praising me for shit I’m ‘pose to do, Kenn Dog. Plus, it’s easy when Whoops know I’m the man.”
“Say that shit, folks,” Relic affirmed, making her roll her eyes. Shabu chuckled before breaking it down.
“I’m for real, Kennedy. Hear me out. It don’t matter if Whoop is making bread, runs a business, or none of that shit. I’m the man of our house, and she knows that. When shit goes left, she calls me. When she’s having a fucked up day, she expects me to fix it. Bills? It doesn’t matter what’s in her account, she doesn’t expect to pay shit, and I won’t let her. Whoop knows how to be independent and how to submit, be my wife, and trust me to lead us. I don’t trip on her because she doesn’t go around doing shit to stress her dominance or prove I can’t control her.”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
Shabu and Relic leaned against one another in synced laughter, knowing she was guilty of doing both. Kennedy glanced at Relic, and she caught the pointed look he gave before grabbing a new cup to fill with a shot. She decided not to badger him since he still seemed below his tolerance level and had spent the last few days running around like a damn chicken with its head cut off.
“That’s your last one, right?” she verified as he sipped it like water. She cringed after imagining the harsh taste.
“Fasho,” Shabu answered for his brother. “Go with ya girls. I got him.”
Kennedy stole another look at Relic before she bobbed her head and, reluctantly, went back over to her crew who immediately grabbed her to take a picture. Relic sipped on the warm liqour and ignored the burn in his stomach as he observed her.
Her third genuine smile of the night exploded on her face as they posed for the camera while holding up bottles over theirheads, making his brother chuckle. Relic tossed the remainder of his drink back and poured another while she was distracted because knowing the night would end with her in shambles fucked with him unlike anything he had done to her thus far. That skeleton with her name on it that’d been cool, calm, and collected reemerged from its dark corner to antagonize him in the worst way. Tension built along his spine, and his vision skewed, making him blink while rolling his shoulders to alleviate those issues.
“She cares about you.”
Relic heard his brother but pretended he didn’t and continued to watch Kennedy. She’d pulled out her phone and started recording the concert since Tekken had come on stage.
“I thought so when she told me to watch you the first time, but then I was like nah. Y’all didn’t know each other like that. Then, I remembered how fast I’d locked in with Whoop.” Shabu continued talking, and Relic pushed out a breath of exasperation that didn’t shut his brother up. “It’s clear as day now, though. I know you’ve showed your ass by now, and she’s still here. She checks up on you but in a way that won’t get on your nerves. Kenn is taking the time to learn how to handle you. She fucks with you heavy.”
“Looks are deceiving.”
That simple, but bullshit of a reply, made Shabu scoff before yanking the cup out of Relic’s hand to place on the table.
“If she’s faking it, then she’s a good ass actor, nigga. You think she’s going to spazz out tonight once she finds out what you did?”
“Not sure, but we’ll find out soon,” he answered and grabbed his phone out of his pocket to check his messages. After reading the one he’d been waiting for from his folks, he corrected, “We’re about to find out now. That was Los. Let’s go.”
“Nigga is ‘bout to get me cursed out by association.”
