“Get away from me,” he demands, but she doesn’t move. Champagne and Wildflower rub on him, playing their part well.
“Why the fuck you up in my space?” I ask, turning my beer up.
“I wanted to see if the rumors that you were back were true.”
“Ya mama could’ve answered that.”
He clenches his fists at his sides.
“Nigga, you might wanna chill with all that energy,” I remark calmly.
“What? Are you going to have your thug friends pull their guns on me?”
“Nah. It would be more fun beating ya ass myself.”
“Charisma’s too good for you. You need to let her go because I will find her.”
“Don’t worry about her. Worry ’bout what you’re doing, nigga,” I reply, jerking my head down at where Spank is kneeling in front of him.
She’s blocking the camera’s direct view. Her head moves back and forth as though she’s sucking him off, and Wildflower reaches down and rubs Spank’s head as though she is encouraging her.
That nigga doesn’t realize that she’s pulled his zipper down.
“I’m prepared to release a statement about our relationship, her disappearance, and re-open the investigation into my wife’s murder. Guess who the starring attraction in that story will be?” he asks.
Spank frees his dick from his pants, and he grabs her head, trying to push her away. The girls are giggling, Delite is recording, and the good old senator is struggling to get his dick back.
“You know, I can see why you agreed to wait a while before having sex with Charisma. I’d be ashamed if my shit was that little too,” I tease.
“I won’t stop until I find her. She’s mine. When I’m done with you, you’ll never see what the outside looks like again. While your sorry ass is buried underneath the jail, I’ll be raising your kid, and he’ll be calling me daddy.”
Everything goes black as I jump up from the bench seat, pushing the women aside, and I shove my gun hard underneathhis chin. Benjamin falls backward onto the table behind him, and Knuckles jumps up from the table and out of the way.
I choke the shit out of this nigga with my free hand, as I continue to shove the gun underneath his chin with the other.
“He’ll pay for his sins, and you’ll have the privilege of knowing that. Today isn’t the day that you send him to meet his maker though.” Priest’s voice is calm behind me, but as deadly as the steel in my hand.
“Today is that day,” I argue.
“Let that boy go, Chaos,” Priest warns tightly.
I allow Priest to take my gun from my hand, but the moment he does, I bust the senator in the mouth. Blow after blow, I rain on his head and face as I beat the shit out of him.
“That’s enough!” Priest barks.
I step back with my chest heaving as the senator rolls onto his side and coughs, spitting up blood. His face is fucked up, unrecognizable, and bloody.
“There’s gonna be hell to pay for this one,” Dongle, an older member of the MC, remarks.
“We’ll have to fix this shit fast.” Charmz agrees.
I look at Delite and wiggle my fingers, and she hands me her phone. It’s already on her photograph app set at the video that she recorded. I kneel beside the senator.
“Nigga, the minute you open your mouth about me, you’ll have to explain why the hell you were in our bar and what the hell this is all about.”
I hit play. Delite has used some sort of editing software that makes his hand appear to be holding onto Spank’s head, pulling her closer rather than pushing her away. It remains there for several seconds, and loud grunts comes through the speakers. It sounds like he’s enjoying it, and somehow, she has eliminated all background noise except for his grunts.
The senator lifts his eyes to me. “This isn’t over. I’ll get you.”
