“I was wondering if maybe you could maybe help me with something. I pissed Roger off and now he said he won’t pick me up from work, and that I can’t come home.”
There was silence in the room as I waited. I was waiting to hear how any of that bullshit involved me.
“And what the fuck does that bullshit have to do with me? I ain’t no captain save a hoe. Bitch, you better put that pussy to use and finesse one of them muthafuckas throwing cash at you downstairs.”
I could tell she was caught off guard, but she shouldn’t have been. I didn’t know what the fuck she thought this was, but whatever she thought it was… it wasn’t.
“Right, but I— I just… I thought since you helped me out that one time, that maybe—”
“I ain’t help you with shit. Ya bitch ass boyfriend was trying to fuck with my money, so I stepped to his ass, nothing more. You don’t need my damn help, you just want a nigga to fuck. If you need a ride, download that muthafuckin’ Uber app and see what’s up. And I’m sure you don’ bonded with one of them other hoes enough for them to let you lay up in their crib for the night.”
“Nobody was trying to fuck, okay! I just thought we were cool enough for you to help me!” she spat, pissed off. Only reason she was pissed was because I’d peeped game on her stupid ass.
“Well, I ain’t cool, I’m hot and in a minute, I’m gon’ be hot enough to go upside ya fuckin’ head and terminate ya ass. Coming in here with that Lime-A-Rita pussy, but got Ace of Spades dreams.”
“Lime-A-Rita pussy? I think not! My shit is perfect, nigga!”
“Bitch, I seen ya pussy on stage and it looks like it’s been chewing tobacco for twenty years. Go throw that brake fluid smelling ass box at one of them paying customers and get the fuck out,” I spat calmly.
Mahogany quickly left my office and I got right back to what the fuck I was doing. These hoes killed me, thinking you gave a fuck about their asses. I gave a fuck about my bread and any muthafucka that tried to get in the way of that shit would get handled. It had nothing to do with me trying to save her ass. I ain’t saving no fucking thots. A nigga got a whole wife and three kids at home, fuck I look like saving and chasing some punching bag pussy? She better go hunt for one of them old bored muthafuckas that’s lonely and been shooting blanks all his fucking life.
I finished what I had to do and quickly shut my computer down. I was getting up out of here ASAP so I could get home and get my dick sucked. As I adjusted my hat, my iPhone started ringing on my desk and I saw it was Qamar.
“Yeah,” I answered, pocketing my keys after locking my drawers.
“Aye, I’m about to head into the club 24K, and I seen that nigga Lue just walk in,” he said almost in an excited manner. This nigga loved to see me turn up.
He was about to get his night made too because, I’d been meaning to step to Lue’s hoe ass since he wanted to run his fucking mouth about my wife. Nigga was just mad that my wife was making more bread than he could ever dream of, and had a larger following than him and his whack ass xylophone beats.
Also, he was pissed that I took her and started treating her how the fuck she deserved to be treated emotionally, physically, and with material shit. Hell yeah, I spent major bread on my bitch; she deserved it. Draylah was a top-quality ass female and she deserved top quality ass treatment. How is it her fault that Lue’s low budget ass couldn’t do the job?
“On my way.”
“Aight.”
I slipped my phone into my pocket and then went to peer out over the club through my window, just to make sure nothing looked off. I spotted Mahogany sitting at the bar like her damn puppy died, so I dialed up the manager.
“Hey, boss!” Gordon answered.
“Calm yo’ chipper ass down.” I chuckled so subtly it was almost nonexistent. Nigga was way too damn happy to hear my voice. “Sounding like a bitch every time I call.”
“Come on, man.” He laughed. “Don’t play me.”
“Tell Mahogany to spruce the fuck up or take the night off. Only happy hoes work in my shit.”
Laughing, Gordon replied, “Will do.”
“Aight, peace.”
I placed my phone in my pocket after hanging up, and then dipped out to the club Lue was at. I was already in the area, so it only took me about eight minutes to get there, and when I pulled up to valet, I saw it was packed outside. I should have had Clay come to keep the fans and shit at bay, but Clay would be getting in between my fights and I planned to whoop Lue’s ass with no restrictions right now.
Before I could even throw my gear into park, camera flashes surrounded me, and only heightened when they saw Qamar and Genesis approach me. Closing my door, I tossed my keys to the valet guy.
“Ricky, do you know Lue is inside?” the media outlet asked me as Qamar and I walked.
“That’s why I’m here,” I replied nonchalantly.
“To handle him for talking about Draylah? Why do you think he did that?”
“He did that because his baby mama got her cheeks clapped on some groupie shit and now he mad.”
“Bruh!” Qamar burst into laughter, along with Genesis and a lot of people outside who could hear.
“Ricky, I love you! … Can I be Queen AK?” random bitches started yelling. A couple niggas started trying to get Qamar’s and my attention too, but I just ignored them because my mind was somewhere else.
Racing alongside me to keep up, the reporter asked, “You slept with Justice? That’s her name, right?”
“I don’t remember what the fuck her name is. I know she got busted down and was on my dick for months after. Y’all be easy,” was the last thing I said before slipping into the club after the bouncer moved the rope.
I made my way through, and when I saw Lue in his section with some niggas, Qamar, Genesis, and I made our way up. I made sure to tell Qamar to keep Genesis’s ass back some because it was about to be some shit.
When Lue saw me, it looked like someone had punched the air out of this nigga. So you know me… I grinned as if this were a happy occasion.
“I heard ya interview... You got a problem with my wife? You mad ‘cause she doing better than you, nigga?”
“Man, I ain’t on no bullshit tonight. I’m trying to chill.”
“Well, unfortunately for you, muthafucka, I ain’t on no chill shit. I ain’t never on no chill shit when it comes to my wife and some mark ass bitch speaking on her. That’s why I took her from yo’ bitch ass. It was like watching a five-year-old trying to whip a Bentley; you ain’t know what you was doing with that.”
My words pissed him off because he finally hopped up from the velvet couch he was sitting on. I was still outside the rope, wanting him to get buck. Lue wasn’t a gangsta by any means, but I knew he wouldn’t back down with all one hundred of the niggas he had here.
“Fuck you! If I wanted Draylah, I could have her!” The nigga tossed the bucket of ice at me like a hoe, so I jumped the velvet rope, causing pandemonium to break out.
Before I even got to Lue, he swung for some reason, and once he missed, I hit him right between the eyes. Stumbling back, he swung again, so we got right into throwing punches.
“Mention my fucking wife again, bruh!”
I felt nothing as I delivered punch after punch on this nigga, until he was lying on his back on top of the table in VIP. I didn’t even stop when he spit up his two front teeth, while swinging like an uncoordinated bitch. The last punch I got in sent his head through the glass table, looking as if his muthafuckin’ neck had snapped.
“Hey! Hey!” Security started to rush in, and I felt someone grab me, so I immediately snatched away.
“Aye, I think that nigga dead,” someone commented, referring to Lue, who was still laid out on the table, blood covering half of his face.
“Nah, he’s alive, just got his ass whooped. Call 911!” one of the guards replied after checking Lue’s pulse.
Qamar, Genesis, and I quickly ran out the club to avoid the cops, and I barked at
valet to get my damn whip as camera flashes came from every which way. My car came quickly as fuck, and I walked to it as Qamar rushed to his whip.
“Ricky, what happened in there?” a blog reporter asked me, as the constant flashes and lights damn near blinded me.
“Same thing that’s about to happen to you if y’all don’t get that shit out my face,” I replied dryly, slipping into my Maserati and quickly speeding off, almost mowing some of them over.
I wasn’t on the road for five minutes before Virginia let me know my interview about Lue’s baby moms getting clapped was everywhere, as well as my verbal and physical fight inside of the club. His reputation was gon’ be shot to shit after that, and he’d lost his damn teeth. Only reason I ain’t kill his ass was because it’d be too obvious who’d done it. But I bet that nigga would think twice about mentioning my wife. If he did, he was dead.
Draylah
Ricky and I were out to dinner to spend some time. I just loved that he asked me out on dates. He would never just say ‘let’s go to dinner’ unless we were already out and just hungry. He would usually send me a card and some flowers to my shop, or bring me some roses at home and ask me. I thought it would only last for the first couple months of us being married, but he hadn’t let up yet.
Currently, he was in the bathroom since we’d ordered our drinks and food, so now I was waiting impatiently as hell for the appetizer to come. I purposely ate small because of tonight.
“Draylah.” Lonz appeared by my table. This restaurant was quiet, upscale, and had low light, so even him whispering was way too damn loud.
“Oh yeah, I gave him the tape but umm… I think his roster is full now,” I lied. Ricky definitely didn’t like what he heard but I was trying to be nice about it, even though I was irritated that this boy had popped up. “But, Lonz, you need to go,” I warned him.
“Alright, well, I mean my name is Lonz on Twitter and Instagram, so if he says anything, just hit me up on there. Even if it’s 3 a.m., hit me, I do not mind.” He laughed, so I fake laughed along with him. “And you know, if you wanna hit me for anything else outside of music, I’m available for that too. You’re a beautiful woman, and I’d do anything to keep you happy.”
“Fuck is going on?” I heard Ricky’s voice as he came back to the table. The smell of his cologne was so good, and he looked even better.
“Ricky AK! Yo, I was just telling her a joke, that’s all, pimp!” Lonz said excitedly like a groupie.
“Well tell me the fucking joke; I like to laugh too.” Ricky stood there, stale faced, hands crossed at the crotch of his Balmain jeans. He exposed the gun locked in his waist to Lonz, who appeared to have shit on himself.
Oh fuck.
“Nah, it wasn’t even that funny. I was just making conversation and shit—”
“Don’t tell no muthafuckin’ jokes to my girl, nigga. Not unless you ready to kill or be killed for the pussy like I am. Is that what you on? You gon’ die for the pussy like me?”
“No sir! I apologize. I didn’t mean to disrespect—”
“Fuck out my way.” Ricky pushed him from the table so that he could sit down, and Lonz bumped into the couple’s table next to us, making their wine glass tip over.
“Sorry,” he mumbled to them before turning back to us and saying, “I was wondering if you could take a listen to my tape that I gave to your wife—”
“Oh, this the nigga with the garbage ass flow and the mundane ass lyrics? Bruh, if you don’t get the fuck away from my table and my wife, I’ll cave yo’ bird chest in.”
Lonz left the table area immediately, and I couldn’t help but to laugh lowly.
“Daddy, you gon’ die for my pussy?” I was still laughing as Ricky covered his lap with the cloth napkin.
“Yep, but only if I lose, which I won’t. These niggas ain’t ready to take a bullet for ya box like I am.”
“I know, that’s why I love you.” I giggled. I was sure Lonz would not be trying to get at me anymore… I mean, not unless he was ready to die for the pussy.
“Excuse me, is there a problem over here? I heard a bit of ruckus.” Some older Hispanic woman, who appeared to be a manager, came to the table with her eyes on Ricky.
“First off, get ya fucking fupa out my face ‘fore I deflate the shit with my .9.” When she moved back in embarrassment, he added, “Go check on our damn appetizer and quit sexually assaulting muthafuckas with that kang pouch.”
“Oh my gosh, Ricky,” I spoke through clenched teeth, as the lady walked off not saying anything else. “Leave her fupa alone,” I chortled.
“Not when she got that shit in my damn face. A fupa on a thick bitch is sexy, but that bitch ain’t even thick. Just got a fupa for no damn reason.”
“So you like fupas now?”
“Nah, because you ain’t got one. I like them three stretch marks on ya hip though. I be licking all on them muthafuckas.”
“Ricky.” I grinned.
What was I gonna do with him?
***
The next afternoon…
Ricky, the twins, Lily, and I were out at this cute little place where you could build gingerbread houses. We thought of buying one and doing it at home, but this place was way more fun, and it would be less mess at the house since we were building it here.
“Aye, y’all got some bigger chairs? This shit gon’ snap on me,” Ricky inquired, and the young lady grabbed another chair for him.
We sat down at the big round table, and she came to give us all of the tools we needed while explaining a few things.
“Cookie!” Frederick shouted, reaching for a small piece.
“No, baby, it’s for the house, okay?” I took it from his little hand, and he licked the crumbs from it.
“It’s gonna be so pretty,” Lily said excitedly as we began to put it together. The young lady was nice enough to give Camellia and Frederick some snack cookies so they would stop trying to eat the pieces for the house.
“Excuse me, I don’t want to be rude, but I am just a huge fan of yours. Can I just get a quick picture?” A young girl approached the table. She had to be about sixteen years old. “I’d actually like one with each of you.”
“Okay,” I said and got up to take the picture with her. Once I sat back down, Ricky got up to take one with her, but Camellia burst into tears. “Cam!” I said, shocked at her.
“Daddy, no leave!” she cried hysterically. She had actual tears gliding down her plump cheeks, which I hated to see on my babies.
“Baby, I’m just taking a picture,” Ricky explained to her, but she wasn’t having it, so Ricky picked her up. “You don’t mind if my baby is in it.”
“No, of course not.” The young girl smiled. “Thank you so much!” The girl grinned after hugging Ricky and taking their photo, before going back to her family.
“Why you bugging, Cam?” Ricky quizzed her when he sat back down and placed her in her chair.
“Tell Daddy he works too much,” I said. “Right, Camellia?”
She nodded her little head as she stared down at her hands. Ricky thumbed her leftover tears away and said, “I work so I can take care of you and buy you shit.”
“No,” Camellia whimpered.
“Aight, you don’t wanna be a princess no more?” Ricky asked her, and she shook her head ‘no.’ “Okay, I won’t work then. You forgive me now?” He kissed the back of her small hands making me smile.
“No!” she spat angrily.
“How can I get you to forgive me?” He smoothed her curly hair back, which was pulled into a little bun on top of her head.
“Toys,” she said lowly, causing Ricky and I to laugh.
“You just said you don’t want me to work and that you don’t wanna be a princess, but now yo’ ass wants a toy.” He shook his head. “You only two and you already complicated as fuck like these females.”
“Leave my baby alone.” I smiled as Camellia started back eating some of the cookies. She was visibly happy now that she was sure
her daddy wasn’t leaving, dancing as she ate her cookie.
“You’re not gonna cry next, are you?” I looked to Frederick, who was tearing the cookies up.
“No!” He frowned his cute little face up. I swear he was just like Ricky. I just rubbed his wild, short, curly hair and kissed his fat cheek.
“Well, I want some stilettos still,” Lily added, putting frosting on one of the house layers.
“We gon’ get ya little ass some loafers and call it day,” Ricky responded with his crazy ass.
“Noooo!” Lily whined as I burst into laughter.
We finished the gingerbread house after a while since the twins started to mess stuff up a little. Once we were done, they boxed it up for us, so that it could travel safely. Because we took so long, we were running late for the kids to go see Santa. I hoped we made it on time, because this was the last day that he’d be available.
“Hurry, Ricky, so we don’t miss him,” I said as Ricky drove.
“I don’t know why they wanna see his ass anyway. That nigga is a fucking weirdo pervert.”
“What? He’s Santa, how is he a pervert?”
“What nigga you know dresses up in a muthafuckin’ velour suit with boots, then has kids sit on his fucking lap? And they not sitting on his lap, by the way.”
Lord, I was gonna pray for Santa.
We got to the mall finally, and by the time we got to the Santa area, they had the small gate closed.
“Hey, excuse me, can you guys just let my kids get a picture?” I waved the guys standing there down. Lily was with me, while Ricky was coming up with the twins.
“Oh no, ma’am, sorry. He’s about to leave, he’s off.”
“But he’s not off yet. He’s still sitting. It’s just one more picture.” I tried to reason with them before Ricky caught up with the kids.
“How long does this shit take?” Ricky came up.
“We can’t do it, sir, Santa is off,” the man said, just as the Santa started to get up from his seat.
“Nah, he ain’t off. Sit the fuck down ‘fore I break my foot off in ya merry ass,” Ricky threatened. The Santa darted his eyes around for a second, but sat down to my surprise. “Now open this fucking gate unless you want me to break it so he can take these muthafuckin’ pictures with my damn kids.”
She Got It Bad for A Heartless Gangsta: An AK Christmas Page 14