Nyce
Sunday | 9:02pm
As Belvin drovethe truck back through the gates, I checked the cameras to see Crook staying on his job while Jermaine was out handling some other shit for me. Princess remained in the theatre laughing and shit as she watched the movie.
I couldn’t help but become a little addicted to watching her. She seemed relaxed, and those leggings and cropped hoodie on her smooth skin were enough to keep me locked in until the SUV came to a complete stop.
“Anything else you need before I take off for the night?” Belvin asked as we locked eyes through the rearview mirror.
“Nah. Tell the Mrs. I said what’s up,” I told him, gathering up the bags of food. I went and grabbed something solid: honey jerk salmon, mac and cheese, salad, and buttered rolls. Princess had better be with it because I wasn’t going to play restaurant roulette to cater to her ass.
I climbed out of the back seat, said what’s up to the guards standing outside, and made my way inside. I headed for the kitchen to see Crook breaking down some weed to roll. “She’s still in the theatre?” I asked, even though I already knew she was.
He let out a little smirk. “Yup. Feet up, talking to the screen like she’s part of the damn cast and shit.”
I snorted, couldn’t help the grin pulling at my lips. As I pulled out the food containers, my phone rang.
“What’s up?” I answered.
It was Swank, the one holding down my gambling den that sat underground in a barbershop. It was the type of spot with ESPN on the TV, shit-talking, and music playing in the background like usual. But downstairs was a whole different type of world. “Numbers solid,” he updated me. “Payouts handled. Nobody’s acting up.”
“Keep it that way,” I said. “Somebody start winning too much, remind ‘em we don’t do fairytales around this muthafucka.”
He laughed softly under his breath. “Copy that.”
I ended the call, slid the phone in my pocket, and glanced at Crook. “Make a plate.”
He pushed off the counter and grinned, resting his rolled blunt on the tray. “Say less.”
I left the kitchen and made my way down the hall toward the theatre. I didn’t hear the TV anymore, which either meant Princess fell asleep or she was stewing in silence. I walked in, and sure enough, she was curled up on the couch, arms folded, eyes locked on the blank screen like it personally offended her.
“Dinner’s here,” I said.
She looked over at me but didn’t move. She just stared, like she was trying to decide if it was worth entertaining anything I had to offer. Then she finally got up, smoothing her hands over her thighs as she walked past me. Of course, I watched her walk as I followed behind her. She stepped into the kitchen and looked around. Crook was now gone.
Turning to look at me, Princess asked, “What is it?”
“Salmon, mac and cheese, salad, and rolls.”
“You didn’t spit in it, did you?”
I smirked. “Fuck you think I’m on?”
She grabbed a plate and started fixing it. “Just had to ask.”
In silence, I pulled out plates and forks, and then we both piled food. I nodded towards the dining room, and she followed behind me. Once there, she took a seat and started eating like she was craving everything on the plate.
Moving over to the bar, I poured up a drink, chuckling. “Damn. Slow down.”
“Leave me alone.”
Raising my hands in fake defense, I asked, “You want water or something different?”
“Water is fine.” Soon enough, the silence was thick between us, only broken by the sound of forks scraping. Then, Princess finally spoke again without looking at me. “So what’s your deal?”
I looked up. “Mydeal?”
“Yeah,” she replied, meeting my eyes. “What kind of… gangsta… kidnaps women but also treats them like… a human?”
