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I deleted the text and slipped my phone in my pocket. She wasn’t about to get me fucked up like the last time. I was standing in a room full of men and my dick was hard from a side bitch. As hard as I tried to keep my mind on dumb shit, my mind kept thinking about Pinkie and all the nasty shit she does.
“I’m ‘bout to head out, my nigga. Call me if anything pops off.”
“I’ll be good. Go be with your wife,” LJ said loudly so Pinkie could hear him.
She blew me a kiss as I walked out of the basement. This bitch was going to fuck my world up if I didn’t stay away from her.
Me: Stop texting me
I sent the text and headed back to the hospital, but not before stopping to grab Summer something to eat. I was about two hours late, and I didn’t intend on really staying at the gambling house but my dick got hard from being around gambling. Since I was a little kid, I ran numbers. Nobody understood that shit but LJ.
Summer had an attitude when I walked in but it was a sarcastic ass attitude. The kind where you stick your tongue out at a muthafucka. She sat up in the bed eating her fried chicken, mashed potatoes and had a bag of gummy bears to finish the shit off. All I had was a salmon and a side salad.
“Had fun?” she asked as she bit off a piece of chicken.
“Don’t be funny. Why the fuck you eating that shit?”
“Well, I was hungry. I called you about four times and you didn’t answer so I had my side nigga bring me something to eat.”
Laughing to keep from spazzing, I sat the food down and prepared the plastic sofa for the night.
“Let that be the last time you mention something about a side nigga unless you want me to mention a side bitch.”
“That’s fine. She been texting your shit anyway.”
I turned around quickly to see what the fuck she was talking about. Summer had her phone in her hand and looking at me.
“What you mean?”
“You texted me and said don’t text you anymore. I’m sure that was for her and not me.”
My red skin went flush. These damn smartphones were good at getting a nigga trapped up. At least this time, it was an effort to stop a bitch from contacting me. Summer could give me some credit on that.
“How she get your new number, Law?”
“Before you get all worked up, I just want to let you know that she didn’t get it from me and as you can see, I wanted her to stop contacting me. Give a nigga some credit.”
“When did you plan on telling me?”
“I was going to talk to you tonight,” I lied.
You lying, but it’s cool. Just like the last time, the shit will come to the light. You better hope it doesn’t though.”
“I ain’t hiding shit.”
“Okay, Law.” She wiped her hands and pushed her table away from the bed. She was asking me questions but I wanted to know how she got this food.
“Who bought the food?”
“A friend.”
“What kind of friend?”
“A friend, nigga. When they came to visit, I was hungry.”
“It’ll come to the light.”
“It always does, baby,” she replied with an eye roll.
