“Dawg, that shit just tore me and I ain’t even anigitch. I need me a drink after reading that. We need to do a walk; ain’t that what people do when they loved ones have cancer? This shit too much right here,” Rome said.
“It is, and it has me so damn emotional I wish I wasn’t being nosy and reading that. That’s heartbreaking, and I wanna find them just to hug her and be that angel her daughter needs ‘cause I got some money for her savings,” Zelly said with tears coming from her eyes.
I sat and read the letter again because that nagging feeling was taking me over the edge. It was the part where she said, "Don’t let the stresses of life control you, you control it.” I heard that shit from somewhere. The fuck! But where did I hear it? Something hit me like a ton of bricks, and I took off out of the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time. I skipped the elevator because I felt like it would take too damn long to get me upstairs. Once I got into my bedroom, I went into the closet and grabbedmy messenger bag. I quickly found what I was looking for and there it was the same damn quote. The Luxe. That message was left in my bag by someone at the Luxe Hotel. I ran back into my closet and packed an overnight bag because I won’t be leaving New York until I find out who this was.
Minutes later, I was walking into the kitchen to grab my keys.
“Where are you going? Zelly questioned.
“Whoever this is, left me an affirmation while I was staying there, and they have to work there because this was left in my messenger bag. That bag was only in my suite.”
“Ohhh shit. Okay, I’m gonna go with you because on some real shit, we don’t know what you’re walking into. You are still who you are, and we have to be ten steps ahead of anything. These niggas out here will do anything these days. Getting attached like this has your guard down and emotions all over the place. Shit, it has my emotions all over the place. If it’s on the up and up, I’ll take a step back and let you deal with it. But for now, we gon’ be ready for whatever,” she said, pulling her twin Glocks from her side and holdin them in her hand.
“Damn! I’m glad you on our team. But Z, you need to start wearing some damn sneakers or somethin’ ’cause them damn heels long ass hell,” Rome told her as we all headed for the door. I guess he was going with us, so I decided to drive my truck.
“That same heel can end up in a nigga eye fucking with me.” She smirked.
“Okay, proud Mary, I hear you. L, I’ma drive ’cause yo ass too damn emotional to be driving my ass,” he said, and I quickly switched with him. He pulled out of the driveway, and ten minutes later we were on the expressway. An hour into the drive, we had to get some gas, ’cause I damn sure forgot to have Mo gas my cars up for the week.
“Ohhhh, pull over on the next exit; they got a Bojangles.” Zelly pointed out.
“Hell yeah. Cause my ribs is touching, and Bojangles got some good ass chicken, especially when it’s hot. And them Bo-berry biscuits is fye! I didn’t know they had Bojangles up here. They mostly in southern states,” Rome added as he got off at the exit. We grabbed the gas first and once we were done, we headed to the drive thru of Bojangles.
“Welcome to Bojangles, may I take your order?” The girl came through on the intercom.
“Get me a three-piece chicken finger meal, with fries, and a coke. Don’t forget the boberry’s,” Zelly told him.
“You want something, L?” He asked me.
“Nah. I’m good. But let’s make this shit quick.” I adjusted in my seat because I was ready to get to this damn hotel.
“Yeah. Let me get a three-piece chicken finger meal, with fries and coke. And let me get a three-piece regular chicken spicy, with fries and a coke. And let me get a six pack of them bo-berrys,” Rome said, placing their order.
“Uhhh, we don’t have regular chicken,” the lady replied.
“Da fuck she talkin’ bout?” he spat. “How long it’s gon’ be on the chicken?” he asked her.
“Infinity. We don’t sell regular chicken here,” she said, and my brow raised because these niggas was about to show out.
“The fuck you getting smart with! Bitch I will send you with that muthafuckin chicken, infinity that.” He pulled off and parked, and both him and Zelly hopped out the car.
“I should’ve left you niggas home. I got shit to do.” I groaned, walking behind them because it looked like I would have to be the voice of reason.
“Now what you was saying!” Rome spat, walking up to the counter, looking at the girl.
“Is there a problem?” The chick that looked as if she was a manager asked.
“Yeah. This bitch gotta a smart-ass mouth. All we was trying to do was order our food but she decided today was the day she wanted to rock with the devil! ’Cause that’s exactly who we the fuck are! And how the fuck y’all don’t got no damn regular chicken? Does Bojangles know y’all ain’t got no chicken? Y’all done pissed me the fuck off wit that shit, I’ma report y’all half chicken selling asses!” He shouted.
“On God!” Zelly blurted. I couldn’t believe these niggas was about to murder these people over chicken.
“Sir, we only sell chicken fingers and chicken sandwiches,” she said. “I’m sorry my cashier got out of hand. I can give you your meals for free.” She shrugged.
“Chicken fingers! Y’all niggas ain’t Canes.” Rome spat.
“Yeah, I don’t own the place. The owner said selling the chicken was way too expensive,” she said.
“Oh, this nigga need to shut down. Just let us get twelve chicken fingers, two fries, two cokes, some dirty rice, and that fresh pan of boberry’s he just put in the window,” this nigga said.
