Page 11 of A Hood Wife And A Rich Goon

“But, has the doctor been in to speak with you?” she questioned.

“The fuck I need the doctor to tell me I can leave for?” Eazy demanded.

“I don’t think⁠—”

“I don’t give a fuck what you think! How about you go talk to the doctor? ’Cause I’m walking out that door in twenty minutes whether he signs me out or not.” Eazy sat on the bed and bent over to retrieve his shoes.

Wincing in pain, he fought through it, slipping his feet into the Givenchy sneakers one at a time. He had to take a breath before tying them. The nurse appeared flustered as she rushed out of the room, nearly running Essence over.

“Damn, bro. What did you do to the girl?”

“Bitch coming in here acting like I ain’t a grown ass man. If I want to get the fuck out of here, that’s what it is,” he complained.

“You can’t just leave. You were shot multiple times. You almost died. I sat here for two days, waiting for you to wake up!” Essence yelled, tears building in her eyes. “Can you assist me, please?” She turned to Bull for help, but all he did was shrug.

“Ain’t no talking me out of this, E. I got shit to do. I gotta get my suit together and make sure everything is straight for this funeral tomorrow.”

“I thought we agreed⁠—”

“You agreed. The fuck I look like not going to my girl’s funeral? You think they can stop me?”

She knew he was dead ass because he barely blinked. Frustrated, Essence sighed and tossed her crossbody bag on the bed beside him.

“Looks like you need some help.” She nodded to his shoes and knelt to help tie them.

“What you need from me?” Bull offered his services, and Eazy peered up.

“I’m going to Summit’s to regroup. I’ll hit the funeral tomorrow. After that, we hit the streets and make ’em talk.”

“That sounds like some shit that’s going to get you killed, Eazy. Why don’t you let the police handle this?” Essence finished with his shoes and stood upright in front of him.

“Them mothafuckas don’t give a fuck about Niva, E. Revenge is mine.” Eazy grunted.

“You aren’t going to say anything to stop him?” she asked Bull.

“When have I ever been able to stop him?” he shot back.

Approaching Eazy, Bull held his hand out so they could shake and embrace briefly.

“I’m around. Hit me up. I need to go check on Oracle and some other shit, but don’t leave me out of this.”

“That is not helping.” Essence rolled her eyes.

Smiling at her, Bull rested a hand on the small of her back before leaning in to peck her cheek. She tucked her arms across her breasts and turned her nose up. He was trying to butter her up and keep her from spazzing on them. Essence was in no way meek or soft. She grew up in the hood and had her moments when she dared a bitch to try her, and she would rock they shit. She handled Eazy’s money for him and made investments since she had a degree in accounting, but over the years she fell back from the street shit so she could try to maintain a normal existence. She loved her brother, but he wasn’t willing to change. He was married to the game, and she feared that death would be his final escape.

“Oh, shit. Look at this mothafucka looking like he just hopped out the casket,” Oracle mocked from the wheelchair moments later when Bull neared his room.

His baby mama, Staci, stood behind the chair, gripping the handles and looking him over carefully in his expensive attire with a gym bag slung over her shoulder. He didn’t have time to change, so he was still in his clothes from the funeral, and bitches eye fucked him all day.

“Well, you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” Bull acknowledged.

“Nah, just the use of my legs.” Oracle went on. “Sorry I couldn’t make the funeral. A nigga was kind of… indisposed.” He chuckled.

“Turned into some bullshit anyway,” Bull muttered.

“What you mean?” Oracle questioned, eyes lowering into slits.

“What you know about Bronx’s girl? Some chick named Toni,” Bull put out there.