by Wahida Clark
“You ready, girl?” She headed towards Shan’s bedroom to avoid Nick. Shan followed behind her. “Close the door.” She said with attitude. “What is he doing here?” Her arms were folded across her chest.
“I don’t know. He came with Peanut.” Shan shrugged it off. “How do I look?” She spun around in her tight leather all white Sean John shorts with the matching long sleeve jacket. “You like?”
“Girl, you look almost as good as me.”
“Go ’head with that. Give props where props is due.” Shan grabbed her leather Coach purse.
Brianna laughed. “A’ight, you got that. Those thigh high boots are bangin’! All you need now is a whip.” She teased.
“Stop playin’ and let’s roll, I’m ready to get my party on.”
“Me, too. If I can just get past the big, bad monster out there.” B was referring to Nick.
“Girl, don’t start with him. Let’s just go.” Shan turned off the bedroom light and led the way out. “Peanut, I’m out. Make sure you lock up.”
Before Brianna could get to the door, Nick was up in her face. “Who the fuck you think I am?”
Brianna tried to walk around him but he grabbed her arm. “Peanut, get your boy.” She tried to snatch it away.
“Nick,” Peanut had jumped up off the couch. “C’mon man.”
“Let me go, Nick. You’re hurting me.” Brianna warned
“C’mon man. Don’t start this shit in my crib.”
“Nut, let me holla at this bitch. Back up off of me man.”
“Take this shit outside.” Peanut was trying to free Brianna’s arm from Nick’s grip.
“We ain’t taking nothing outside. I don’t have shit to say to the nigga, so why is he harassing me?” When she snatched away from him he hauled off to punch her in the face but Peanut blocked the blow and pushed him towards the front door. Shan opened it up and grabbed his arm.
“Nick, I know you ain’t swing at her in my house!” She was pulling him out into the hallway.
“I’m not even gonna let that nigga get me excited and ruin my evening. Punk!” Brianna yelled at him as the front door closed.
“You ain’t right, B! You know that, don’t you? I want you to chill out!” Peanut told her.
“I’m chilled; you need to be tellin’ your boy that.”
“I’ma get with him. Where are y’all going tonight?”
“That new club out on the Eastside called The Spot, you coming through? When am I going to see you again?” Brianna was like, later for Nick I’m tryna get with you again.
“You can see me right now.” Peanut leaned over and gave her a kiss.
“Stop playing, Peanut, I’m serious.”
“I’m serious, too. I can hit it right quick.”
“You gonna get us busted.”
“You wasn’t saying that earlier.”
“C’mon, Brianna.” Shan burst in the door. “He’s in the car.” She looked from her brother to Brianna. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“What time you coming home?” Peanut asked Shan.
“I’m grown. I’ll be here when I get here. Now come on B. Lock the door, Peanut.”
They drove in silence as the Lex pumped the music of Ashanti, Vivian Greene and Heather Hadley.
“Yo, you know you did Nick wrong, right?”
“Girl, fuck these niggas! I’ll be glad when you wake the fuck up.”
“I’m just saying B, you reap what you sow. That nigga held you down the whole time you was on lock. Then when he got knocked, you ain’t give the nigga that same love back. But when he got out and came back up, you got back in…”
“Until I got tired of him and it was a wrap.” Brianna cut Shan off and finished off her sentence. “So what? Shit, he’ll get over it.” I’m sure this ain’t the first time he got used for the trick that he is.”
“I don’t know what to say about you.”
“Whatever, ho. Now tell me about this Calvin.”
“Hold up, guess who had the audacity to call me last night?”
“Who? And don’t think I’m letting you get away with not telling me about Calvin.”
“Girl, shut up and guess who had the nerve to call?”
“Derrick.”
“Nope.”
“Jay.”
“Nope.”
“Girl, who?”
“Kris.”
“Aw hell, naw! Did you talk to him or hang up on his ass? I hope you called the police and told them. Ain’t that violating his restraining order? You should have let Peanut kill his ass when he wanted to. I hate the way he would bruise you up. You didn’t talk to him, did you?”
“No. I hung up. Shit I should have killed him myself. Police officer or not.”
“Hell yeah. What did he say?”
“I hung up. I didn’t even want to hear it.”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ bout.” Brianna high-fived Shan. “Fuck him! I wanna hear about Calvin. Why is he such a big secret? Is he that fine? Don’t worry, you’re my girl, I won’t take him from you!”
If Shan only knew. Brianna’s grimy ass fucked her ex Kris on several occasions resulting in a pregnancy that she aborted.
“Bitch, pleeze! He is very fine but he is not your type. Meaning, he’s not a baller or a trick. He’s a businessman.”
“What kind of business?”
“I met him when I went to get my brakes fixed. He owns an auto repair shop on the Southside.”
“I hear you. So why haven’t I met him?”
“Girl, please, I haven’t heard back from him.”
“What do you mean? Why not.”
“That’s a whole ’nother story?
“What happened? What happened, ho?” Brianna prodded.
“I don’t want to talk about him.”
“C’mon, Shan. Tell me.” The suspense was now more than she could stand.
Getting agitated, Shan spat out, “We fucked and I haven’t heard from him since! Okay?”
“What? No shit? That ain’t your style, Shan. How’d you let him play you like that? Please tell me you got a couple of grand outta the nigga! I know I taught you better than that!” Brianna said with much attitude.
“Girl, please. You the last person I’ll let teach me anything.”
“So what happened? Did you or didn’t you get some paper?”
“No, I wasn’t tryna hustle the nigga for no dollars but we’d been vibin’ off one another, and he made plans to take me to Las Vegas the weekend of my birthday. I told you that.”
“Damn, that reminds me. We haven’t kicked it since your birthday?”
“No, we haven’t. You’ve been doing what you do best, hoing around, hustlin’ niggas, and I’ve been doing what I do, working and job hunting.”
“I’ma act like you didn’t say that. But for the record, don’t hate the player, hate the game. Now, finish telling me about Las Vegas. And please tell me you at least milked Las Vegas until it couldn’t be milked anymore.”
“Brianna, do you ever rest from getting your hustle on?”
“No, I don’t.”
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to names, characters or individuals is purely coincidental.
DAFINA BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
850 Third Avenue
New York, NY 10022
Copyright © 2004, 2005 by Wahida Clark
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Dafina Books and the Dafina logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7582-6072-7
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