I kept knocking, waiting, somewhat patiently, when I saw her come around the corner. We locked eyes, and she started to back up.
“Open the door, Jada. We need to talk.”
Jada shook her head at me.
“NO!” she yelled out.
I nodded with a smirk.
“Last time asking. Open. The. Door. Jada.”
I looked at her through the lil’ window again.
“NO, LOVE! FUCK YOU.”
I stepped away from the door and looked around. The old ladies turned the other way. The niggas were still on the corner minding their business. I gave Jada a few seconds to think I was leaving, but when I turned around, I kicked her door in.
She screamed when I stepped into her house, then she ran up the hallway to her room. She tried to get the door shut, but I was right there pushing it open and making her stumble back, and I snatched her up by her arm.
“I got some shit going on in my life, and word around the 6 is that you might have something to do with it.”
Jada shook her head.
“I don’t know shit about what you got goin’ on in your life.”
“Oh, you don’t?” I fired back. “You not telling your bitches that you are getting your baby daddy back?”
Her eyes got big, and I knew.
What was said about her was true.
My hand moved from her arm to around her neck as I lifted her in the air, making her look at me.
“What the fuck did you do, Jada?”
I loosened my grip so she could speak.
“I didn’t do shit. Fuck you and that bitch.”
I smiled and tossed her down the hallway; that bitch flew like she was Superman.
Once she crashed to the ground, I walked up to her.
She tried to back up, to get on her feet, but she couldn’t.
I grabbed her by her hair, pulled my Glock out, and pushed it under her chin.
“Where the fuck is my wife at?!” I yelled at her.
Jada looked at me, laughing, her face all red from rug burn.
“Nigga, fuck you and her!”
I slapped her across the face with my Glock, and blood went flying out of her mouth.
She pulled away from me and took her time to stand on her feet.
“You would kill me over that bitch?” she asked.
