Truth is, I didn’t play that shit when it came to bitches. I knew that females could do some spiteful shit, especially when shit didn’t go their way, or they were trying to get their lick back on a nigga. To prevent her from snapping, and me having to fuck around and kill her ass in here, it was best that I just leave. Of course, on my way out of the door, she called me all kinds of fuck niggas, and pussy ass niggas, saying shit that a typical Miami woman would say, and I let her have that.
I didn’t stoop down to her level, neither did I choose to hurt her chest and tell her that the reason why I had been talking to Ari for so long is because I was checking for her cousin, Riot. I ain’t want to put Riot in the middle of no shit, and that’s why I chose to be the bigger person, ignore her ass, and get the fuck on.
Jazelle stayed in these luxury apartments, and she was up on the third floor. Instead of taking the elevators, I chose to just jog down the stairs, and before I knew it, I’d made it out into the parking lot, over to my car, and I was quickly getting in. I just got my car back this morning. That night at the listening party, when niggas came through, shooting that shit up, my car sustained a few bullets, so I had to take it to the shop to get fixed.
I removed the gun that I had resting on my hip, and I tossed it in the cupholder. By this point, it was a little after 11 at night, and I sat here for a few seconds, just trying to see where I wanted to go. Jazelle stayed out in Hollywood, so she wasn’t too far from Hollywood beach. Instead of going home, I was going to head out to the beach, have me a drink at one of my favorite spots, probably eat some food out there, and call it a night.
I drove with the music turned down low because I wanted it to be quiet enough for me to have room to process my thoughts.Everything in my life has been going the way that it should be. The other night when I went to that listening party, that was the most drama that I’ve had in a while. We still didn’t know who was responsible for that shit. Immediately, when I heard the shots, I thought that they were coming from dem 9 boyz, especially since my crew was in the building, and given the ongoing beef that we had with them, I assumed they had opened fire, but it wasn’t. I was told they were inside the house as well, shooting back at whoever was shooting inside of the mansion.
Miami was one of those cities where niggas ran their mouths like hoes, and whenever they were involved in a shootout, they loved to run around, and speak on it, so it was only a matter of time before one of these dumb ass niggas started telling on themselves, and we could get to the bottom of who that was shooting inside the house.
I pulled up to the beach about ten minutes later, and I chose to park my car in the parking garage. I was able to snag a spot on the first floor, so once I grabbed my gun, placed it on me, and got out of the car, I was able to walk directly out of the garage, and onto the boardwalk area.
It was always a nice vibe out here. There was multiple bars and restaurants, and each one of them had their own vibe going on. On the boardwalk, you could see anything from people roller skating, riding their bikes, couples holding hands, or some dancing to the music that was playing.
There was multiple places to sit down, so some people were just sitting around, enjoying the views. The spot that I was looking for was called Nicks. They usually had live entertainment, and the wings were always good. I was nearing it. In just a few short steps, it was coming up on my left.
Something told me to turn my head and look right. I don’t know if it was God that planted that direction in my head, telling me to look to the right of me, or if I was just pulled to lookin her direction, just as I was that night at the listening party. Either way, I turned to look, and it was Riot sitting there. She was sitting on the seawall along the boardwalk. She was turned sideways, with her legs folded, sitting Indian style, and you could tell that she was in deep thought about something.
Just from the outside looking in, it was obvious that she’d come out here to clear her mind, and that stood out to me because whenever shit in my life starts getting rough, the beach is where I would come to, so that I could escape. The views, the sound of the waves coming from the ocean, all that shit would be peaceful, and comforting for me. She was so locked in to what she was doing, that she wasn’t paying me, or anyone around her any attention.
I thought about walking over to her and speaking. Shit, probably even asking her to join me for dinner, or a drink. She might try to fuck around and play me, especially since we didn’t meet on the best of terms, and she’d gotten mad at me for slamming her down to the ground, all because I was trying to prevent her ass from getting struck by a bullet.
I’ve never been the type to be a scary ass nigga, so I headed over to her. As I was approaching her, she turned her head, so that she could look at me. Most women would have probably offered a nigga a smile or something, but she didn’t do that. She wasn’t mugging, either. If anything, she just sat there, with this look on her face, as if she was wondering what I was doing walking up on her like this.
“What’s up?” I asked, as if we went way back, and I just came over to check up on her.
“Hey,” she said.
I didn’t think that her short ass was going to respond. I just knew that she would still be in her feelings from the shooting.
Her swag was so dope to me. This was only my second time being around her, and you could tell that she had her own stylegoing on. That green New York Yankees cap that she had on was hard. Up under the hat, I could see that her hair wasn’t straight anymore. It was curly. She wore a plain white tee, with a green sweater that was draped loosely around her neck. Having the sweater on her like that is what made the outfit pop the way it did. She tied it with gray joggers, and you could see the ankle socks that she had on with the green, and white Asics sneakers.
“Who you out here with?” I wanted to know.
“Myself,” she kept it simple.
Her ass really didn’t talk a lot. Usually, it was women that had to pull conversation out of me, now here I was, having to pull the conversation out of her, and I didn’t know how I felt about that shit.
“Aight. I came out here to get a drink and order some food. The last time I was around you, I slammed you, trying to protect you from bullets. Let me make it up to you. Come have a couple of drinks, and eat with me,” I suggested.
“I don’t drink, and I’m not hungry,” she said.
“Then don’t eat, and don’t drink. Still just come, and sit down with me,” I urged, and when I said that, she looked at me like I was crazy.
“The last time I was in the same space with you, niggas started shooting at the fuckin house. I’m good. I’m not trying to die tonight. I got enough shit going on,” she voiced, and I sucked my teeth because it was bullshit that she was talking.
“I didn’t have shit to do with niggas shooting inside the house. We still don’t know who the fuck did that shit. I already did my homework on you, shorty. I know that wasn’t your first time being involved in a shootout. You ain’t innocent. Don’t use that as an excuse not to sit down, and vibe with me. If you don’t want to, then just say you don’t want to,” I let her know.
“Okay then. I don’t want to,” she responded, and I laughed, while stepping closer to her.
“I don’t believe you. You happy as fuck that I walked over here,” I said, and she rolled her eyes, as if she was disgusted that I would even think that.
“You obviously don’t know me because if you did, then you would know that I prefer to be alone,” she said, and I nodded.
“Your right. I don’t know you. That’s why I’m trying to have you get up, so that you can go eat with me. You don’t need to be turning down no meals, love. My money long. You can order a few things off the menu,” I spoke, saying that shit, hoping that it would make her laugh. She was so fuckin hard to the point that she didn’t even crack a smile.
I could sense that something was bothering her though. Granted, from the homework that I did on her, I already knew that she was mean as fuck, to herself, and didn’t talk like that. I was sensing it was something deeper though. I don’t know when the fuck I became a therapist, but instead of walking away, and letting her sulk in the shit that she was going through on her own, I decided to sit down on the seawall with her. I sat down in the way that her body was facing, and I looked over at her.
