“Come with me to the back right quick,” I said, and she stood up from the chair, got in front of me, leading the way, but once we made it out onto the front, she moved out of the way because she didn’t know where to go.
I walked us to the back, and I jogged up the stairs because that’s where I kept my office. Just like anything around here, I had to key in a code to grant us entry. I did that, pushed the door open, and because the light worked off motion, it cut on the second that we walked inside.
My office wasn’t fancy. Really, this bitch just had a desk, a laptop that was stationed on the desk, and a safe that I kept in the closet. Once I was inside, I locked the door, and I went over to the closet, keyed in the code to the safe, and I pulled out two stacks. Each stack had ten bands in it, so I was getting ready tohand this girl twenty bands. I didn’t flinch to take that money out either because life or death happened tonight. She deserved this shit, so after locking the safe back up, I walked out, where she was standing in the middle of the office, and I put the money in her hands.
I could tell that she was caught off guard with the amount of money that I’d handed her. So much so that she only took one of the stacks, and chose to keep me with the other one.
“I feel like I gotta work a little harder to get twenty bands out of you. I don’t want that kind of money just handed to me. I’ll take just ten. Thank you,” she responded, and not trying to hear shit that she was saying, I stuffed the other stack into her pockets.
“Over a hundred rounds of shots hit my car tonight. Your people could have been planning your funeral. I put you in a situation where you could have died behind me tonight. It’s twenty racks that I’m giving you, and you gotta know that your life is worth way more than that. If a nigga ever put this amount of money in your hands, don’t ever feel like you didn’t do enough to deserve it. Don’t question it. Just take that shit,” I was a little more firm in my response.
She didn’t question it again. She just thanked me for it, and that was that.
“Where your purse at? Every time I see you, you don’t ever got a purse on,” I called out something that I had taken notice of.
“I don’t wear purses,” she responded, stating the obvious.
“Use the money and buy one. I want to see you with a purse on. You don’t like Chanel?” I wanted to know, and she blinked her eyes at me like I was slow.
“Your hoes wear Chanel or something? Why that specific brand?” she asked me.
“I don’t have hoes. I got a few bitches I run in from time to time, but if somebody walked in here right now and caught mewith you, they couldn’t check me about it because I don’t belong to nobody but God. I said Chanel because I feel like that specific brand is classy. It ain’t too loud. I ain’t telling you to switch up shit that you got going on. I fuck with your style. That rough shit you got going on, I fuck with it because it shows that your naturally pretty, and you don’t have to walk out of the house to get a nigga’s attention. You do that tomboy shit real well. Put a Chanel purse on with your looks, and it’s going to make you an ever badder bitch,” I voiced some real shit to her, and she grunted like she wasn’t trying to hear anything that I was talking about.
“You just beat a nigga’s ass for calling me a bitch, and there you are doing the same thing,” she said.
“He was calling you that shit to be disrespectful. I was saying it as a compliment. I’m sorry if I offended you. Usually, I can handle Mook and some of the crazy shit that he says, but I stood there and listened to him call you a bitch three times. That was three times too many for me,” I let her know.
“Your friend doesn’t like me,” she told me, and that’s what made me walk over to her, so that I could be a little closer.
I felt like she kept running from me, going further whenever it was just the two of us in a room.
“Mook? Why you feel that way?” I wanted to know.
“When I walked inside of the stash house earlier, I saw it in his eyes that he wanted to fuck me. Kind of like the same look that your giving me right now,” she went on to say, and like she had all the jokes in the world, I laughed in her face.
“I’m giving you vibes that I want to fuck you?” I had to ask.
“No. Come on. Are you taking me home, or you have some more running around to do?” she tried to change the subject, but I wasn’t going to let her.
“Nah. Answer that shit. I’m giving off vibes like I’m trying to fuck? I haven’t even touched you. When that dog came, your lilass jumped on me,” I said, and I got somewhat of a fuckin smile out of her mean ass.
It was like half of a smile, but I could barely get that, so I was going to count it as one.
“No. I can just tell you like me though,” she said.
“I don’t know you enough to like you, shorty,” I corrected her.
“It got up under your skin that a nigga called me a bitch three times. You handed me twenty racks like it was twenty dollars. Oh, you like me,” she went on.
Folding my arms, I stepped closer to her, looking down at her pretty ass.
“Got up under my skin? That’s a stretch, baby. By the time that nigga said it for the third time, I felt like he was looking for some kind of reaction from me. I’m big on respect too. Whether I’m itching to fuck you or not, I’m not about to stand around and listen to a nigga continue to call you a bitch. I don’t care how much history I got with him. I’m not going to allow that. Oh, and twenty racks is the equivalent of twenty dollars around these parts. We get money over here. Pretty soon, you going to be getting money with us too, and going to have a raw ass Chanel collection,” I informed her.
She didn’t say anything else.
“You said that he was looking at you like he wanted to fuck you. How you figure he don’t like you though? What’s the correlation?” I brought that back up.
“Because he knows that he can’t fuck me,” she responded, and I nodded because her logic did make sense.
