I got out and rushed into my building. Once I was on the elevator, I pressed the button for my floor and sent the text to Russell that I had saved in my notes.
Me:
Russ, please don’t be mad. I told you last night that we needed to talk. Even though we ended our night together, I still needed some time alone before having the conversation. Can you give me until noon? I promise I’ll be ready to talk when you get here.
After sending his message, I sent one to the group chat I had with Rue, Daisy, and Blossom.
Me:
Emergency meeting at my place at 10.
Once the message was sent, I lifted the neckline of my shirt and the strap of the sports bra I wore and slipped my phone underneath. The clutch purse I used for the gala was too small for my phone, and I needed a free hand to get my keys.
The elevator opened, and I stepped off as I retrieved the single key from the small side pocket of my purse. I made it to my door and let myself in. The door closed behind me, and I almost pissed my pants when I saw Preston standing behind the door.
Of course, my first instinct was to try to leave, but he slammed his fist against the door before stepping in front of it. This made me angry, so I dropped my purse and pointed my index finger at him aggressively.
“How did you get in here, and who told you where my apartment was?” I shouted.
“I have my ways. We need to talk,” Preston responded calmly.
“Nigga, I ain’t got shit to?—”
He lifted a gun and put it to my forehead, and I shut up immediately.
“We need to talk. Go sit on the couch.”
I held my hands up in surrender and walked backward until I reached my couch. I sat down and held my hands together, while he stood hovering over me with the gun still on me.
“I don’t take too kindly to disrespect, and what you did last night was disrespectful as fuck.”
“Pres—”
“Shut the fuck up. You think I don’t know what it looks like when a woman is freshly fucked? Your lipstick was smeared, and you left the evidence all over his shirt. Even if I couldn’t see that shit with my own eyes, that nigga wanted me to know.”
“Preston, please. I?—”
“I told you to shut the fuck up. You must think I’m a stupid nigga. I peeped the way he looked at you all night and how you did your best to avoid looking at him. You think I didn’t notice how y’all disappeared and reappeared at the same time? When you told me your stomach hurt, I knew that shit was a lie, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt because I knew damn well you didn’t invite me to that shit and run off and fuck another nigga. Then you let him disrespect me?—”
“I didn’t?—”
He pressed the gun against my forehead, and I closed my eyes, just knowing this was the end for me. Preston didn’t seem crazy and barely had any edge to him. I didn’t peg him as a street nigga, so the fact that he broke into my apartment and was holding me at gunpoint blew my mind.
“It’s cool because if you don’t want to give me what I want, I don’t mind taking it.”
He pressed the gun harder against my forehead. I slowly opened my eyes and looked up at him. The evil in his eyes almost made him unrecognizable.
“What do you mean?” I asked nervously, voice quivering.
“I think you know what I mean. Stand up and take that shit off!”
I shook my head. “Shoot me.”
“What?”
“I’d rather die than fuck you. Shoot me!”
“Bitch!”
