“Boy, you are no longer my man so you can stop with the questions.” She blew me off. That ignited my rage.
I snatched the purse off her shoulder and tossed it to the floor. “You ain’t gon’ be going off to see the next nigga, wearing the shit that I bought yo’ ass,” I snapped.
"Really, Blunt? Is that how you're carrying it?" She stormed upstairs before I could respond.
A short while later, she returned downstairs carrying a Gucci bag. She snatched the purse that I had bought her up off the floor and placed its contents into the Gucci bag. Then, she slung the purse at me.
"Get out of my house, Blunt, and take that with you!"
“Okay, fuck it. I’ma let you have the muthafucka you going out with if that's who you want!” My eyes bored into hers. “You know I don’t play the other nigga games. What belongs to me, can't no other nigga touch. So while you're on this new shit, tryin' to impress your folks, you better make up your mind. Is it him or me?”
Mo' stood there considering my words. She could tell that shit was about to be over forever if she called my bluff.
"I play a lot of games, Baby Girl, but my bitch fuckin' with another nigga ain't one of ‘em," I reemphasized.
"Your bitch?" Whap! She slapped fire from me. "Really?" Her fist connected with my jaw. I threw my arms up to block the next blow.
"He's a real disrespectful mothafucka," Leesha unleashed.
I turned my head and grilled her real fast, then returned my focus back to Mo'. I could see tears puddling in the corners of her eyes. "Baby, I'm sorry.” I reached out to hug her, but she stepped back.
"Don't you touch me!" Her chest heaved up and down.
"Fa real, Mo', you know I didn't mean it like that. You know I've got mad love and respect for you."
"No, Blunt, you don't have any respect for me at all. And the sad thing about it is that my stupid ass was standing here thinking about giving you one last chance. Now that the truth about what you think of me just slipped out of your mouth, it's easier for me to move on." She sounded more sincere than ever.
"I said I'm sorry." I looked at her with regret reflected on my face. The truth was, I never categorized her as anything but a jewel. I was just so used to referring to Luscious and 'em as bitches, the word had slipped out of my mouth.
"I'm way too good to be talked to like that. Now, step out of my way," she demanded.
"I can't do that, Baby Girl. I can't let you run to the next dude. Fa real, baby, I never meant to disrespect you like that." I inflected my voice with the sincerity that dwelled in my heart.
"Move, Blunt!" Mo’ snorted.
"You heard her!" Leesha lipped.
That was it, she had uttered one word too many. “I’ma show yo’ ass that I ain’t the one to be fucked with.” I pushed Mo’ to the side.
“Please hit me so I can call a police officer over here and have yo’ black ass locked up,” she threatened, but that didn't stop me.
I backhanded her so hard her hair flew all over her head. She fell to the floor holding her mouth. "Nigga, you done fucked up!" she cried as she climbed to her feet.
I turned my head to the patter of footsteps. Leesha's twins flew down the stairs and into the kitchen. I shoved their mama back down on the floor.
Mo' jumped on my back. "Get off of her!" she screamed, pummeling me in the back of the head with her fists.
I slung my baby over my shoulder, being careful not to hurt her. She cried out like I had body slammed her. "Stay out of this, Baby Girl," I urged.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the twins running towards me with butcher knives. “Don’t put yo’ hands on my mama, nigga!” the taller one yelled out.
"I'll stab the shit out of you," threatened her sister, wielding the jagged edged knife out in front of her like a sword.
I didn't wanna take the knives from the li'l girls and rough them up, but I wasn't about to let them stab me either. Instinctively, my hand went to my waist.
Out of Control
Molaysia
"Will everyone just calm down, please!" I screamed above the chaos. Things had gotten way out of hand. I looked at Blunt with fire in my eyes. "Don't you dare," I uttered sternly and his hand fell away from his waistline. I pushed the twins back before someone got seriously hurt.
“Gut that mothafucka like a fish!” Leesha encouraged her kids.
Akeela attacked, slicing the knife through the air like a ninja. Blunt's hand shot back to his waist. As quick as mercury, his arm rose up, and he had a gun pointed at the child. "Back the fuck up," he growled.
"Stop it!" I cried out hysterically. This was far too chaotic for me.
The sight of the gun caused Akeela to freeze, but it didn't frighten me. At that moment, I saw Blunt for the street thug that he was. A man who was willing to murder a child would do anything but I had no fear that he would shoot me.
I stalked back up to him and shoved him in the chest with both hands. "Get the fuck out!" My voice shook the walls.
"I'ma go, but you bet' not leave this mothafuckin’ house," he warned.
As Blunt backed out of the door, I broke down crying. "I'm sorry you all had to go through that," I tearfully apologized to Leesha and the girls.
My cell phone rang in the middle of my tears. I ignored it because I thought that it might be Blunt calling, and I had nothing else to say to his deranged ass. Then, I remembered that I was supposed to be meeting Fabian out for drinks before all of this craziness jumped off. I took my phone out of my purse and saw that, sure enough, I had a missed call from Fabian. I dried my tears and called him back to cancel our date.
"No, don't let Blunt spoil your plans. You go on out and have a nice time," Leesha encouraged when she heard me asking Fabian if we could go out some other time.
"Will you hold on a minute, please?" I asked him.
"Sure," he replied.
I put the phone on mute and discussed it with Leesha further. She assured me that she and the girls were fine. "Girl, go on out. If you stay home, that's letting Blunt dictate what you do."
I wasn't sure if I would make good company, but I decided not to allow Blunt to rain on my parade. Besides, I wanted to hear Fabian try to explain why he hadn't told me that he was going to the concert last night. That would surely be worth a laugh or two.
I unmuted the phone and informed Fabian that I was running a little late. "But I will be there," I promised. "While you're waiting for me to arrive, try to come up with a plausible explanation for last night . . . I'm sure you know what I mean."
"Uh. . . ."
"I'll see you soon, Sir." I laughed, enjoying making him stutter. It really didn't matter, I was not hoping to rekindle the past.
After hanging up, I went back upstairs to redo my makeup. Fifteen minutes later, I was on my way to the Olive Garden where Fabian and I agreed to meet for casual drinks and a light meal. I didn't have much of an appetite, but a couple of drinks sure sounded nice.
In the car, I turned on my Bluetooth and talked to Fabian as I drove to the restaurant. He told me that he was already down the street from the Olive Garden off of Peachtree Street.
"Sorry, I'm still twenty minutes away," I informed him.
“It's cool. I'll be parked on the right side of the restaurant in a white Lexus.”
"Okay, I'm in a red Mercedes."
"Ooh, you're big ballin’," he teased.
"You're too funny," I cackled. "You're the baller."
We kidded back and forth until I arrived at the restaurant and parked next to him. He hurried out of his car to open my door for me. "Thank you. You're so sweet," I remarked. It felt so nice to be treated like a lady.
As I slid out of the car and rose up, my eyes almost popped out of their sockets. Blunt stood behind Fabian with a look of murder on his face.
Still Running Shit
Blunt
"Get back in the car, Mo, or else I'ma splatter this nigga's brains all over your outfit," I said with my 9mm German Luger pressed to
the back of her date's head. To him, I said menacingly, "One stupid move and it's gon' be lights out for you, homie. Test my gangsta and you'll never get to tell about it." I cracked him across the head with the steel.
He yelped like a bitch ass nigga.
"Blunt, please don't hurt him. He has nothing to do with what's going on between us. He's just an old friend. Let him leave, and we'll talk," pleaded Mo'. She was shaking like a leaf.
I grinned mockingkly. "Oh, now you wanna talk? You ain't have no talk for me an hour ago. What, you tryin' to save this pussy nigga? He must be more than a friend."
"Nawl, man ---" the nigga moaned. He reached up to rub his head.
"Did I ask you anything? And put your mothafuckin hands down before I get trigger happy on that ass." I glanced around the lot to see if anyone was coming. The cover of the night protected me from any Good Samaritan types.
"Mo', pop your trunk," I barked.
"For what?"
I slapped her date across the back of the head with my banger a second time. Blood ran down the back of his neck. "Pop the mothafuckin trunk!" I repeated more forcefully.
I heard the trunk unlatch. I made Mo' up her car keys so that she couldn't pull off. "You know what the move is," I gritted to ol' boy, then marched him to the rear of the car and forced him to climb into the trunk.
"Man, I'm bleeding," he said, as if I gave a fuck.
"Next time, do your homework," I spat before slamming the trunk lid.
I hurried around to the passenger side and hopped in the car. I handed Mo' her keys back and instructed her to pull off. "This is crazy, Blunt,” she cried.
"And it's gonna get even crazier if you don't tell me what I wanna hear. Now put this bitch in gear and drive down to The Bluff."
“No, Blunt, this is crazy. I am not doing that. Let him go, and we’ll talk. I promise.”
I thought about it for a minute, and then decided not to force her hand. “Aight, I’ma let the pussy nigga out the trunk. But you better make him understand that if he comes back around, I’ma make him sleep wit’ Jesus. You understand?”
“Yes.” Her reply came out through clenched teeth.
“Mo’ don’t try me. Fa real, a nigga is on edge. I’ll kill all three of us,” I threatened. I pointed the gun at her, and then put it to my own head.
Mo’ covered her eyes and cried, “No, Blunt!”
“Well, you better come with me and tell that nigga what time it is.”
When I got out of the car, Mo’ followed me back to the trunk.
“I ought to murk this clown,” I gritted as I snatched the keys from her.
“No, Blunt, that is ridiculous. He’s no one but an old friend from high school,” she swore.
“I don’t give a fuck. I want the nigga to kno’ that he can’t get at mine.” I opened the trunk and pointed my banger down at the frightened square.
“Mo, tell this weak ass nigga what time it is,” I said as he climbed out of the trunk cautiously.
She huffed, and then told dude, “This is my boyfriend. I was mad at him when I called you and I apologize for putting you in this situation. Under no circumstances will I call you again.”
“Okay,” he replied. Then he turned to go back to his car.
I put my banger to the back of his head. Very menacingly I whispered, “Even if she calls you again you bet not answer. You hear me, Pussy?”
He turned to face me and my heat met the tip of his nose. "Do you hear me!" I barked.
“Yeah, bruh, I hear you,” he replied.
I raised my foot and kicked him dead in the ass.
“Argh, shit,” he yelped. He grabbed his left ass cheek, fell inside the Lexus, and hauled ass.
“Why did you make me do that,” asked Mo’ through tears when I slid back in her passenger seat.
“You had no business callin’ that pussy in the first place. Switch seats wit’ me. I’ma drive us to a place where we can talk.”
“Blunt, you’re scaring me,” Mo’ remarked, trembling.
“Girl, hush. You know I would never hurt you. I just want to talk things out. I’ll come back and get my car.”
“Gosh!” She sighed and reluctantly switched seats with me.
My Way Or The Highway
Molaysia
Blunt had to be plum dumb and crazy to think that we could talk things out after the stunt he had just pulled. I was steaming hot, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. I only wanted to get the talk over with. After that, we could go our separate ways. I didn’t utter one word as he drove on Interstate 285.
Blunt poured his heart out the entire time until he pulled into the parking lot of The Ritz-Carlton off Peachtree Street downtown. He removed the keys from the ignition, opened the car door, and treaded to the front entrance of the hotel. I shook my head in dismay because I really didn’t want to go up in a room with him.
A few minutes later, he came to the car and told me to get out. He grabbed a hold of my hand once I stepped out of the car. An older Caucasian in his mid fifties came out and valet parked my Benz.
We strutted inside the building of the elegant hotel and took the elevator up to the second floor. Once inside the Presidential Suite, I strolled over to the bed. I put one foot under me and let the other foot dangle from the bed.
My eyes began to inspect the entire room and its beauty. The living room area was nice with a high definition flat panel television that I estimated to be at least 70 inches. There was a formal dining area with seating for six. French doors opened to the executive study and the bedroom suite had a luxury walk in shower.
Blunt came over and pulled me up, and I silently followed him into the bathroom. I turned the temperature knob on the Jacuzzi and ran him some bath water. He undressed in front of me, stepped over into the Jacuzzi, and submerged his body under water. I picked up a small towel and lathered it with soap. I dropped to my knees and gently bathe him.
“Damn, baby, I missed you. Happy Birthday.” He let out a long sigh and relaxed.
“Thanks and I missed you too. You didn’t have to make me ashamed by going to the restaurant confronting my classmate. All of that was unnecessary,” I griped while washing his back and shoulders.
“I ain’t tryna hear nothin’ ‘bout that nigga,” he said with an attitude and sank his body deeper under the tiny bubbles.
“Well, I can certainly change subjects.” I soaped up the towel and continued to rub his back. “It seems to me that you want your cake and ice cream too. You have some explaining to do. I want to know about Luscious and Mika. And you need to tell me about the two babies that you have had since we’ve been together. When were you going to tell me about this whole other life you’ve been living?” I smacked him across the face with the towel.
“Ow, Mo! That shit hurt.”
“The shit that you do hurts too,” I said, choking up.
“I know it does, baby girl, and I'm sorry. Fa real, none of it was supposed to happen that way. I know I fucked up, but I was gon’ tell you ‘bout my kids when the time was right.”
I stood to my feet and pressed my finger against the side of his face. “Oh, really? When was the time going to be right for you to tell me that you’ve been sticking your dick in other bitches?”
“I’m sorry, baby.”
“That’s all you have to say? Sorry didn’t do it, you did. Blunt, you don’t want a good woman, you want a street skeezer. Now, either you’re going to call both of those hoes and tell them that it’s over between y’all, or it’s going to be over between us for good,” I demanded.
“Baby, it ain't even that serious. I’m done dealing wit’ both of ‘em,” he claimed.
“Yeah, right." Sarcasm coated my reply.
“Fa real, Mo." He sat up and reached for my hand, but I snatched it away and stood up to my feet.
I frowned down and gave him a look like, Boy please! If I believed Blunt, I believed that cows could fly.
“Call both of them and put the phone on speaker so I can hea
r you tell them it's over, or you can forget about us ever getting back together.”
“Shawdy, you trippin'. That's some high school shit. And while you're checkin' my dirty clothes, I need to be checkin' yours. You got all sexy to go and meet up wit’ another nigga. How I kno’ that y’all ain’t fuckin’?”
I knew that he was only trying to flip the script. I wasn’t as stupid as he thought I was. I bent over, gripped his balls, and squeezed.
“Fuck! Okay, I’ll call ‘em up,” he bellowed and tried to pry my hands from his testicles.
“You better before I snatch ‘em off!” I was done putting up with his bullcrap and lies. Leesha was right, with niggas like mine you had to get ‘ignit’.
Boss Game
Blunt
With Mo’s hand wrapped around my family jewels squeezing like my shit was a lemon and she was intent on making lemonade, I would have agreed to anything.
“I’ma call ‘em. Just let my shit go, and I got you,” I promised, though I didn’t mean a word of it. That would be dumb as hell for me to call Mika and Luscious and put them on loud speaker for Mo’ to hear me cut them off. Man, she had me confused wit’ that whack ass nigga she was tryna hook up wit’ for dinner before I showed up and shut that shit down.
“I’m not playing, Blunt, you better call ‘em,” repeated Mo’ releasing the balls.
As soon as she let go, I snatched her ass by the front of her dress and pulled her into the tub of water.
“Ah, you’re getting me wet,” she cried with a soaked dress. Her hair was drippin’ wet wit’ bath water.
“I should drown yo’ ass,” I threatened. “You betta be glad I love you the way that I do.” I pulled her in my arms and tried to put my lips on her. She swung at me and turned her face away from mine.
“I don’t want your lips on me ‘cause ain’t no telling where they’ve been,” she accused, pummeling my chest wit’ both fist. “You’re either going to call those bitches or I’m done with your black ass. I’m fed up with your shit.”
I pinned her arms to her sides and pressed my naked chest against hers. Her nipple prints were pokin’ through her clothing. I stood up, lifted her up wit’ me, and roughly pressed her back against the wall. I sucked on her neck while I lifted her dress and slid a hand up her thigh. “Stop, Blunt!” she protested.
So Gone Page 7