“I didn’t mean it like that.”
“You know what. Maybe you should stay, and I can leave,” I cut in. “Three out of your five kids are right here under one roof. This is exactly where you need to be.”
“Before you leave, we need to talk.”
“I’m not interested. Take your gangsta globe head ass over there and talk to your kids,” I fumed, snatching my purse off the table.
“You always got a bald joke these days. Ain’t the nigga you fucking bald?” Quinten snapped, grabbing my arm before I could walk past him.
“See, there is a difference. He’s bald by choice, not because of a receding hairline and a botched hair transplant. My nigga looks good with a bald head…”
“Yo nigga?” Quinten cut me off, but I was fired up.
He should’ve been here while Lil Q got ready today. He should’ve been the one to handle the situation with Jameera’s uncle earlier. He shouldn’t have missed Quincy’s Fall Ball game earlier.
“You heard what the fuck I said. My nigga looks good with a bald head, meanwhile you look a fucking mess with your oblong head. A bitch couldn’t even touch your bald head because you still trying to do shit to fix it. I rub my niggas head for good luck every day before he leaves,” I ranted, then lowered my voice so only he could hear my next statement. “Now, if you will excuse me, I’m going to lick my nigga scalp while his dick in me.”
In an instant, his eyes went dark, and Quinten’s hands were around my throat as he slammed me into the wall sending the picture frame tumbling to the ground. My arms swung wildly, hitting him everywhere my fists could land. The sound of furniture scraping my hardwood floors filled the room as everyone scrambled, knocking things over while trying to get to us. Quinten couldn’t keep up with me because blood startedseeping through his cream shirt. It took nothing for Tech to toss his ass into a wall.
“Alright, you need to leave!” He barked, pointing to the wall.
Girl Quori and Jury pulled me back down the hallway, asking if I was okay, but I was just fine. The evil smile on my face symbolized how Quinten fucked up, and the look on his face told me he knew it.
“Marissa…”
“Nigga, I said you need to go,” Tech roared, standing toe to toe with his father.
“Aye, I let you get away with a lot of shit but not when it comes to my wife!” Quinten argued.
“Well shit, treat her like she your wife!” Tech retorted.
“I know you got a lot of stress on your chest about me, but you’re a part of me. Whether you like it or not you my son. You a reflection of me.”
“No the fuck I’m not,” Tech laughed in his face. “I’m nothing like you. I handle my responsibilities no matter how hard the road may be. Unlike you, I’m not scared of the nigga that gave me life. You scared of your daddy. You know most of your men don’t dislike you, but they don’t like your bitch ass dad, and you too pussy to stand up to him.”
“You speaking real confidently about a bunch of shit you don’t know about,” Quinten gritted.
“Oh, I know a lot. Did you forget I got close enough with two of your men that they left your organization and relocated to work for me? I know enough.”
Quinten and Tech stood in the entryway toe to toe, both of their fists bald.
“Dad, you need to go,” Quincy finally spoke up, and I turned to see him standing behind all of us, disappointment evident.
“I’m not going nowhere.”
“Quinten, we don’t have anything to discuss. You can speak to my lawyers but don’t pop up here. Now get the fuck out! You know you crossed the line, so stop fucking playing with me!”
Quinten’s nostrils flared, and his eyes narrowed in on me, but he knew better. Tucking his emotions, he turned around and gave us his back, along with a clear view of the crowned skull tattoo etched into the back of his head.
Rolling my eyes at his goofy ass, I relaxed when the door closed behind him.
“Ma, are you okay?” Quincy checked on me.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “I’m sorry for doing that in front of you.”
“You good?”
“I’m straight. I think I’m going to stay the night here just in case he comes back.”
