I blinked at him. "We bout to….what? Sosa, I can't just leave. I'm here with…"
"I don't give a fuck who you here with." His voice was firm. “Put the drink down. We leaving. Now."
"You can’t tell me what the fuck to do, I’m grown sir."
"Yasani." He said my name in a way that made my stomach flip.
"Put the drink down. Let's fucking go."
We stood there, locked in some kind of silent standoff. Every logical part of my brain was screaming at me to tell him no, to go back to Mr. Clyde, to do what I was being paid to do. But something else was telling me to listen to him.
Slowly, I set my drink down on the bar. Sosa's lips curved into a satisfied smile.
"Good girl. Now come on."
He started walking toward the exit, and I followed. Just like that.
No goodbyes to Mr. Clyde, no explanation, no nothing. I just...
followed him.
I could feel eyes on us as we walked through the ballroom. There were people noticing, probably wondering who I was and why I was leaving with this man who definitely didn't look like the type to be at a police ball. But I didn't care. I kept my head up and my heels clicking against the marble floor as I trailed behind Sosa.
We walked through the grand lobby, past the valet, out into the night air.
And I still had no idea what the fuck I was doing.
* * *
Sosa's car was a matte black Mercedes G-Wagon with custom rims and tinted windows so dark you couldn't see inside. The interior was all black leather, smelling brand new, with LED lights along the floor that glowed a soft blue.
He opened the passenger door for me, and I slid in, with my dress riding up my thigh as I sat down. I adjusted it quickly, feeling his eyes on me the whole time.
He got in the driver's side, started the engine, and pulled out of the hotel parking lot without saying a word. The silence was heavy.
I stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past, my heart still racing from the fact that I'd just walked out on a job without a second thought.
"So you just out here selling pussy now?" Sosa finally said, his voice cutting through the silence. "That's what we doing?"
I turned to look at him, his jaw was tight, as his hands gripped the steering wheel.
"It's not like that."
"Nah?" He glanced at me, then back at the road. "So what the fuck is it like then? 'Cause from where I'm sitting, you all dolled up for some old ass nigga. The fuck that look like to you?"
"He pays me to go to events with him. That's it."
"That's it?" He let out a harsh laugh. "Aight, so you ain't fucking him?"
"No!" I lied, it wasn’t his business, what I did and who I did it with.
"But you would though, right? If the price was right, you would let that nigga hit." His voice was hard. "Was that the plan?"
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Because honestly my silence was enough.
"Yeah, that's what the fuck I thought." He shook his head, then cut his eyes at me sharp. "Yatta know about this shit?"
"What?"
