Syn: Sex Is Syn, Love Is Pain

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Syn: Sex Is Syn, Love Is Pain Page 16

by J Peach


  Parker hummed as we left. “What she do?” He asked, going to a garage.

  “Unlock the door,” I told him as I stood next to a car, waiting to be let in.

  Looking back at me, he nodded his head to where he stood. “We ain’t takin’ that. So what ol’ girl do?” Parker repeated as the garage door started opening.

  “Oh, she call me a cock suckin’ monkey and told me to get out of her store and go back to the ghetto I came from. So I beat her ass, whooped that hoe all through that damn store. That was some racist ass shit.” My eyes rolled up in my head as I thought about the shopping trip me and my bitches took. “I mean, who the fuck says cock? Buji ass bitches, that’s who.”

  “She was white?” Parker asked and again I rolled my eyes.

  “N’all, that bitch was black—”

  Parker started laughing at that. “How the fuck is she racist?”

  Smacking my lips, I was about to say something smart until I took in his garage. From the outside that garage didn’t even look that big. How many cars did a person really need? King didn’t even have that many cars and he was a big timer back home, shit.

  “You coming or you just gon’ stand there?” He asked.

  A bitch was most definitely impressed. I shouldn’t have been from everything I’d already seen in that house, but Parker definitely had my attention now.

  “Can I drive?” I asked, staring at the candy red 2016 Bentley Flying Spur Sedan. That mothafucka was clean right along with the all black rims on its feet. I wanted to drive that car.

  “You got a license?” He asked.

  I got so excited at that question. “Yeah, I got a license.” Parker could probably tell from how fast I replied that I was giddy.

  “Let me see.”

  Without thinking, I grabbed for the purse that was supposed to be on my arm. Seeing this, Parker started laughing. “Nigga, fuck you. Yo ass know my shit in my car,” I snapped at him before walking around to the passenger side, getting in, and slamming the door.

  Me doing that quickly stopped his laughter. “Don’t be slamming my shit. Yo mothafuckin’ head gon’ be in that damn window, play with me,” he snapped before turning up the radio, basically ending whatever reply I had with that.

  If I’d had my purse, I would’ve started some shit, but I was out there with nothing. No brass knuckles, no knife, no gun. Parker was a big mothafucka and my little hands wouldn’t do shit to him. I at least needed my brass knuckles to make his ass feel something.

  Too Short’s Freaky Tales blared through the speakers so loud that my body was literally vibrating in the seat and my ear drums felt as if they were going to burst. Parker closed the garage and then reached over to the glove compartment. He pulled out a cigar and a sack of weed, tossing them both in my lap. He didn’t say anything after giving them to me, instead, he pulled out a cigarette and lit it as he drove to the gate.

  Once out, he waited for it to close completely before pulling onto the street and taking off, speeding down the street.

  Chapter 14

  Angel

  We had been riding in silence for a while. Once he came to a stop sign, I opened the door and dumped the tobacco out of the cigar. Then I proceeded to roll the blunt. So he’s not going to talk to me? If not, what was the point of taking me? This thought constantly ran through my head as I rolled the blunt.

  Coming to a light, Parker suddenly reached up and turned the radio down. “You ain’t finish telling me about that racist black chick,” he glanced over at me with a crooked smile.

  Hearing him say the racist black chick made me feel stupid about saying that in the first place. Even though the girls and I understood what it meant, that didn’t mean everybody else got it.

  “It’s nothing to tell really other than I beat her ass. Somebody called the police and I got arrested. But if she hadn’t called me ghetto and threw my change in my face, I wouldn’t have touched her. To me that was very disrespectful and her comment was racist,” I was becoming angry again just remembering the situation.

  “I can’t stand a buji ass black female,” I continued my rant. “That hoe was as dark as me and wanna act like she better because I’m not from the same side of town she’s from. Both of our money is green, so how did she think she was better than me? Hell, I’m sure the receptionist’s job I have at the law firm makes more than she do.” My eyes rolled just thinking about that heffa. “You know, I just don’t get some black folks,” shrugging, I handed him the blunt.

  Parker shook his head at me. “You can’t get fuck’d up about a bitch because she called you ghetto. Yo ass should’ve been arrested for that dumb shit.”

  My lips popped at that because I didn’t agree with what he said. Even so, I didn’t reply back to him.

  He glanced at me when he realized I wasn’t going to respond, then he asked me another question. “If you work at a firm, why you dancing at the club?”

  A small breath left my mouth and I turned in my seat so I could face him. “It’s a small firm and I only get a few hours there per week. That isn’t a lot and it damn sho ain’t gon’ pay for a semester at IUN. So what I make from there goes towards bills, food, and stuff like that,” I calmly explained. “What I make at the club goes toward school, rent for both my places, the one in Gary and the one out in Indy,” I stated prideful.

  Even though I did shake my ass to get by, I was doing it without having to depend on anyone like I once had to when I was younger. No, I wasn’t on top to the point that I could miss work as I pleased, but I was doing hella well for myself.

  “Smile any harder and yo damn cheek bones gon’ break,” Parker stated, making me laugh.

  “Shut up. What about you? What you do?” After the question left my mouth I felt so stupid. What the hell is wrong with me? A loud groan escaped me.

  “I’m a travelling sales agent.” He looked at me and laughed. “Why you so damn nervous for? I ain’t gon’ bite, shid. Who would’ve known Syn was a shy but ghetto chick?”

  Smacking my lips, I took the blunt from him. “I’m not shy, far from it. But considering yo ass kidnapped me in the middle of traffic in broad daylight, I’m being careful as to what I say and do. Now if you give me one of yo guns you holding then I don’t have to be cautious as to what leaves my mouth.”

  Again, Parker laughed. “Hell n’all. You done lost yo damn mind, especially after yo little clique up strapped on my ass. Fuck that.”

  At the thought of Peaches accidently shooting at him, I leaned into the door and laughed hard. “Them my bitches, plus they didn’t know we kind of knew each other. We all we got friend and family wise so we look out for each other.” That was true. My bitches and King was all I had in both departments.

  ***

  For the next hour and a half we talked about nothing at all as he drove down the highway with the music banging hella loud. Riding with Parker now confused me. Why the hell would he ask to get to know me, but then ignore me most of the time we’re together?

  I didn’t like that he was ignoring me and I most definitely didn’t like the fact that I didn’t like it. Even so, I didn’t know what to say to him in order to start a conversation. Damn, I’m so nervous. I could shake my ass for an audience of a hundred men, but I was nervous as hell being with just that one. And that was crazy to me given the fact that he was one of the men I fuckin’ danced for.

  Angel, get yoself together…

  Letting out a loud breath, I turned down the radio and flopped back in my seat only to let out an even louder sigh. Then I folded my arms under my chest and crossed my legs. There I was claiming I wasn’t shy but couldn’t find shit to start a conversation with. I was not liking that bullshit at all.

  “Why you got that big ass house and all those cars and it’s only you?” I finally asked after a few minutes.

  “I like space and cars. Plus, I got money to burn, so why wouldn’t I have it?” Was his simple answer. That didn’t really leave much room for a reply.

  And I
thought Blaze was antisocial. Maybe he’s just nervous.

  After staring at him for a minute, that thought was quickly wiped away. He looked relaxed as hell.

  “Where are we going?” I asked as we got off on an exit to Springfield, Illinois which was about three hours from Gary. I had to go to work and there was no way in hell I was going to make it back there on time.

  “Springfield, why?” He said nonchalantly.

  He is serious about not going back to Gary until tomorrow?

  I stared at him like he was crazy. When he’d said that, I thought he was playing just to rile me up. Without thinking, I reached over the seat and hit him. “Why the fuck would you bring me all the way out here when I told you I had to work?” I snapped at him. Parker hit the brakes so hard my body flew from the seat to the dashboard.

  “Oh, my God!” Panting, my hand went to my chest. I swear I saw myself flying through the windshield. I looked over at Parker and stared at him, shocked. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” I yelled at him as cars blew crazily behind us.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you hitting me? I don’t play that hitting shit. This my second and last time tellin’ yo ass this. I told yo ass we wasn’t going on yo side of town until tomorrow, now you either shut the fuck up and ride or get the fuck out and hitchhike yo ass back to Indiana.” He reached over me and pushed the door open. He then leaned back in his seat, lighting a square.

  Is this how he’s used to talking to females? If so, he got the wrong mothafuckin’ one. Then this nigga opened my door.

  I stared at the opened door and then back to him with parted lips. I couldn’t hide my shock. Even so, I quickly reframed myself. “Whatever the fuck you gon’ do, decide that shit then close my fuckin’ door,” he lazily looked at me then to his door.

  That look pissed me off to no end. I hit him again then jumped out of his car. “Fuck you, Parker, and close yo own fuckin’ door,” I snapped from outside the car. Parker quickly put the car in park.

  Oh, my God! Maybe I shouldn’t have hit this big mothafucka. I slammed his door shut then went to walk forward but jumped back as a car came flying past. That brought me back to the realization that we were stopped in the middle of the highway.

  “Get yo stupid ass back in the fuckin’ car!” He fussed at me.

  I am not about to get in his damn car. Fuck him!

  “Fuck you!” I snapped at him. “And you better move this shit before the police come.”

  Once it was clear for me to go, I hurriedly ran across the highway to the shoulder of the road and started walking. This nigga had me all the way fucked up. He ain’t know me, I kissed nobody’s ass. I heard his door slam but I didn’t look back to see if he was coming after me. Once the banging music started, I knew he wasn’t which was fine by me. A second later, the red Bentley flew past me.

  My eyes rolled and I let out a heavy breath as I started walking towards the nearest gas station. Damn, I didn’t have my phone, I didn’t have no money, nothing, and I was stuck three hours away from home.

  Ugh, this some bullshit.

  I exited the highway and came to a curvy street that I walked up until I got to a stop light. Right across the street from that was a Speedway. Once the street was clear, I quickly ran across, going up to the gas station. My heels clacked loudly on the pavement as I stomped up to the store, and the moment I got inside I went straight to the counter.

  “Excuse me, can I please use y’all’s phone?” I asked the lady behind the counter nicely. After looking me up, she pointed toward the door.

  “It’s a payphone right out front,” she stated kind of snottily and I had to hold my tongue.

  “Look, I don’t have no change or money on me—”

  “Well, call collect,” she waved toward the door.

  That stopped me from snapping at her. I honestly had to laugh at that. Was she seriously that miserable? Did she want me to beat her ass?

  “Where the fuck yo manager at? ‘Cause, bitch, I’m about a second from hopping over this counter and beating yo old ass. Yuck mouth ass bitch, go get yo fuckin’ manager before I fix yo fuckin’ teeth,” I spoke as calmly as possible, even managing to give a smile.

  Her face twisted up into a glare. “Who the hell—”

  “Bitch, I’m talkin’ to you. I am not in the mood to be dealing with an old, miserable ass bitch. Now call a manager up here or give me some change so I can use the damn payphone. Either that or I come back there, beat yo old ass then take the fuckin’ phone.” I didn’t wanna have to tag the lady, but I would. I was stuck out there and that old hag was copping an attitude.

  Two one dollar bills were thrown over my shoulder onto the counter. I thought somebody was trying to be funny. I turned around about to snap but the dude behind me started talking once I did.

  “Come on, shorty, it ain’t even that serious. You need a phone? Here,” he held out his phone and then looked over me to the woman. “Let me get four swishers,” he told her before looking back at me. “So you don’t need it now?”

  Damn, maybe I need to get stuck more often.

  “Yeah, thanks.” Taking the phone, I gave him a once over. He was a sexy hood. Tall, maybe about six-two or three, brown skin, pretty brown eyes and a medium build. Giving a little smile, I walked past him to stand at the door and quickly dialed Missy.

  “Hello?” Missy answered with a deep tone.

  I rolled my eyes at her attempt to disguise her voice. “Bitch, it’s me.”

  “Hoe, you better stop calling me from these out of town numbers. Bitch, I thought you was a debt collector or some shit,” Missy said, making me laugh. “What’s up, tho, mama? You give up that coochie yet?”

  I let out a heavy breath. “No, bitch. Why the fuck this nigga got me in Springfield? We got into it and he put my ass out on the highway. Miss, Springfield. That’s like three fuckin’ hours from home. How the hell am I supposed to get back? I don’t have my phone or my purse which means I have no money and no razor. Bitch, my gun is in my purse. I’m stuck at a gas station with this mean old bitch. I just almost had to beat her ass,” I explained and the background erupted with the girls over talking each other as they asked questions. But I couldn’t make out shit that was being said. “Missy, you got me on speaker?”

  “Yeah, we at Kim’s crib. I thought you were about to tell me how this nigga done dicked you down, not this shit,” she sounded shocked.

  “Who the fuck left you on the highway?” Peaches and Kimmy said at the same time.

  Walking out the store, I started talking again. “Parker, his ass kidnapped me earlier today. I called Missy ass to come get me but her ol' nasty ass was just telling me to give this nigga some coochie. Now I’m stuck three hours away at a fuckin’ Speedway. Y’all, this nigga stopped in the middle of traffic, on the highway, in the middle lane. Then told me to either shut the fuck up or get the fuck out.”

  “Bitch, you should’ve shut the fuck up then. How you gon’ talk shit to a nigga who took yo ass to a whole other state? Baby, you should’ve put that pride of yours to the side and shut the hell up,” Peaches said. I could hear the laughter in her voice.

  “Shut the fuck up, Peaches. Yo ass don’t ever put yo pride aside for shit, we never did. So what make you think I was going to do it this one time? Fuck that and his big ass.” They started laughing and I couldn’t help but join. “Y’all, this is not funny.” I whined.

  “It ain’t. We gon’ have to lay hands to dude, I don’t give a fuck. You know it ain’t nothing, but we might have to pop his big ass, tho’,” Kimmy stated and I hummed my agreement because Parker would probably beat all our asses without breaking a sweat. “Find out the address to the gas station so I can program it into the GPS,” Kimmy said, making me smile.

  “Y’all about too come get me?”

  “Yeah. We in the truck now, we just need the address,” Peaches yelled into the speaker.

  “Little man with his daddy?” I asked Peaches as I went back into the store.


  “N’all, he with momma for the weekend,” she replied.

  I walked back into the store. “What’s this address?” Surprisingly, the lady didn’t snap at me as she said it. I repeated it back to the girls. “Hey, is it cool if my girl call back up here when she’s close?” I asked the older woman and she rolled her eyes. “Bitch, what’s this fuckin’ phone number?” Again she rolled her eyes, but told me the number. “Call the number and make sho its right because if it ain’t y’all gon’ have to come get me from Springfield Police Department instead of Speedway. And I really need to give this dude back his phone.” I peeked out the window, saw dude standing by his car, and held up my finger. Hearing the phone ring, I turned to see the lady answering it.

  “Speedway.”

  “Yeah, it’s the number.” Glancing back out the door again, I saw a red fuckin’ Bentley pull in.

  “Oh shit!” I cursed.

  “What’s wrong?” They asked in unison.

  “Why the fuck Parker just pull up? Y’all, he gon’ kill me. I fyed on his ass twice, punching him hard as hell. Y’all, I don’t have my gun.”

  They erupted into laughter.

  “Well, bitch, you better drop to yo knees and suck some dick or lay on yo back eagle style.” Again they laughed at Kimmy’s words, making me roll my eyes.

  “Kim, shut up. I’m being serious, shit.”

  Peaches cut me off as she started talking. “Fo’real, tho, Ang, don’t let that nigga faze you. In fact, walk yo ass out the gas station and step to his ass. Bitch, you know we don’t hold our tongue, we let that shit rip. If you got to square up with that nigga, then handle yo business. But hiding in that store ain’t gon’ get it.”

  My eyes squinted as I stared out the door. I was looking at the nigga in the passenger seat of ol’ dude car whose phone I was using.

  “Hello, Ang?” Peaches called my name loudly.

  I tried to focus on what she was saying, but I couldn't. “Yeah, y’all hold on.” I pushed the door opened and marched to the black on black Chevy Caprice. I made it to the car and snatched the door open.

 

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