“Take y’all ass to your room for you be next.”
She hurried up and turned around, as I looked down at G in disgust. “Nigga, you got me fucked up! You must think I’m Lay Lay round this bitch!”
Going to my couch, I pulled out my nine-millimeter he bought me last year, then walked back over to him and squatted. Aiming the gun at his forehead, I made myself clear. “You real lucky I love you, G… But the next time you hit me, especially over that hoe Lay Lay, I’m gone have my brothers come hog tie you… then, I’m gone kill you myself, you understand?”
“This why I don’t want to be with your mental ass! Crazy bitch!”
I smirked, then kissed him, tossing my gun on the couch. I got up and took a seat, sparking up a cigarette to calm my nerves. I knew, mentally, something was wrong with my ass. Some days, I felt bad for what I was doing to my best friend. Other days, I didn’t give a fuck; her momma did drugs like my mom. Only difference was her momma never sold her to all the dope boys for a hit. That’s when my jealousy started. Layloni always acted like her situation was so bad, but it wasn’t as bad as mine. I hated her for so many different reasons. I also loved her too. It didn’t make sense, but I still considered her as a friend.
“G, you ain’t got to be with me. All I want from you is that fire ass head, your money, and for you to start helping me take care of these kids… if you can’t do all three, then I will for sure tell Layloni everything about us and these kids.”
He finally sat up and, when he did, he had the most disgusted look upon his face.
“I never asked you this, but I need you to take over and watch Glen Jr. and Desi for me. Shay Shay needs a break and I’m missing out on money as we speak… you just better hope makeup covers whatever bruises I might have or I’m gone beat your ass again.”
I named our son Glen like him because he was his first son. Layloni’s slow ass thought his name was Glenden and that everyone just called him Glen for short.
“Whatever man,” he groaned as he rubbed his private area.
“Oh, and not saying you would… but I don’t put shit past no nigga. I might not be shit, but I love my kids, don’t go in Shay Shay room! I do self-checks on my kids all the time, so I’ll know if they have been touched inappropriately.”
Walking out, I didn’t give him a chance to respond. I tried to go get ready for the club. I warned him, like I felt every bitchshould do with any man. Shit, I felt like my momma should have warned all the tricks that touched and fondled me at the same age my daughter was now. My kids got on my nerves and I despised them at times, but I refused to let their innocence get shattered like mine. I had a cold heart, but it softened when it came to them. Turning on my shower water and stepping under the water, I back handed a couple of stray tears that fell from my eyes. That happened a lot when I thought about my upbringing. I fought tooth and nail to put that shit behind me, but it haunted me at least once or twice a day and, then, my mood swings would shift.
Chapter 6
Glen
“Niggggaaaa! Tell me why I was at your bitch house like four days ago! Her momma was necking me up so good, I almost screamed I loved her cougar smoker ass!” Chuck exclaimed, as I chuckled and took a hard hit from my blunt, thinking of how much I missed Layloni’s ass. It was hitting on a week now and I hadn’t heard from her. She still had the same number. I just couldn’t get through to her for shit.
“That ain’t even it nigga! Layloni came walking in with that nigga King, right when I was about to skeet everywhere! Shit had me lowkey pissed the fuck off… I thought Blood was coming to get topped off, but the way the nigga was staring hard and looking pissed, he was actually there with yo bitch, nigga!” Chuck said sounding animated as hell.
I wanted to slap the fuck out of his dumb ass for just now telling me this. “You sure it was King, nigga?”
I wanted to be sure. The nigga got ghost after his uncle Prince and my uncle Troy and their home boy Carlos set his father up and killed him. Word on the streets was King was that nigga in California. But if he was back out here, that only meant he had to be the nigga to kill Carlos. Carlos was on the news the other day; he was found stanking in the woods by a lake. I needed to get intouch with my uncle Troy because that could mean trouble for all of us. I refused to let this crazy nigga King come back out here and take money from my pockets. Not only that, I refused to let him take my bitch! Troy and Prince were supplying heavy weight down here in Mississippi. I was eating good with them niggas.
Deciding to cut the small talk with Chuck, I told his dumb ass to get back to work. Leaving the trap, I tried to call Layloni’s ass again; she cleared my call and it had me super livid. She always obeyed me, right now, it felt like she was slipping through my damn fingers. I missed her so much, it had me sick. If she thought for a minute she was going to leave me for a new nigga, especially an enemy nigga like King, then she had another thing coming. I’d kill her ass in cold blood and that nigga. Picking up my iPhone, I dialed my uncle’s number; he picked up on the third ring.
“What’s up young blood? Let me know something good.” He drawled in his thick southern accent.
“King back out here, we need to meet.” I kept it brief.
“Say less.” The line went dead.
In an hour or two, I would be receiving a text with an address and a time. In the meantime, I was craving to get my dick wet in the worse way. I could hit a million bitches and none of their pussies could hold a candle next to my Lay Lay. I knew her pussy was made just for me. No other dicks been up inside that but mine. Lay was my main bitch and, one day, I had plans on marrying her ass. She never pressed me for money like these other hoes. If she could pick up her self-esteem, she would be a complete damn dime.
Hearing my phone ring, I quickly fumbled with pulling it out of my pocket. Thinking it was my baby calling because her stubborn ass finally came to her senses, It was nobody but Shadonna’s hoe ass. I didn’t know how I got caught up with that girl. I was wrong as fuck, but finding a good head doctor washard to do. Once a nigga had that, you couldn’t let them go. I should’ve only hit that shit once but leave it up to my thirsty ass, I kept going until she got pregnant multiple times. If Layloni found this shit out, I knew for a fact she would write me off, which was why I needed to write Shadonna off. I was going to have to kill her ass before she went talking. The only thing that was holding me back now was finding her replacement.
Pulling up to the empty warehouse, I cut the engine and grabbed my banger. This was the secret warehouse that I had for private meetings and stashing drugs. I discovered it when Layloni and I were teens. I actually took her virginity inside this place; I set it up nice just for her and me. I couldn’t fuck her in peace at her momma’s crib because she had too many smokers there.
Her mom’s crib was the turn up house on the block and also a good trappin’ spot. I didn’t think twice when it came time to buy the raggedy warehouse and turn it into my hide away spot. I played games with Layloni every now and then, asking her did she remember the location I took her virginity at, and she would always say it was a deserted mansion somewhere far off in the woods. Little did she know, it was a fucking warehouse and it was not in the woods.
Only my uncle and Shadonna knew of this spot. My uncle was the only one I could trust. Shadonna, I couldn’t trust for shit; she followed my ass here on one of her thirsty ass stalking missions. I was able to throw her off by telling her I was seriously considering buying the spot. She was way smarter than I thought, which was why I tried my hardest to keep her crazy ass happy. I was rising to the top in Mississippi, but I still managed to downplay my position. From the outside looking in, folks would think I was just over a couple of trap spots. When, in actuality, I was running this shit while my uncle and Prince took over Texas, Alabama, and New Orleans.
Entering the warehouse, it was still half empty. When you walked in, it looked as if it was still under construction. Upstairs, I had offices and hidden safe rooms to put dope in, and keep count of all the money I had coming in. I jogged up the stairs out of breath by the time I reached the last step.
I was greeted by five, big burly guards standing outside the door. My uncle had already come in and made himself comfortable. Dressed sharp in a three-piece suit, his beady eyes stared at me. Murder was on his mind while this nigga sat comfortable behind my desk with his feet kicked up. He puffed on a cigar with two mixed dimes standing next to him.
It was my dream; one day, I would be in his position, having a wife and kids at home with the baddest bitches as my side hoes.
