“’Sup, Henry.” I went into the bathroom within my bedroom, closing the door.
“Hey, um, did you have a party here?”
“What? Nah,” I replied as he sighed. “Why?”
“Someone broke in, so I thought maybe you had a party and one of them doubled back. I don’t invite many people here, so that’s the only thing I can think of.”
“Is anything gone?” I asked while racking my brain, trying to think. Only person I’d ever brought there was Blaise, and I knew damn fucking well she ain’t do that shit.
“The police are checking, but if they did steal something, it was small, which is why I assumed it was someone who‘d been here before and maybe had a chance to scope the place.”
“Nah, that shit wasn’t me, man.”
“Okay, no worries, Belly. And I’ve been traveling a lot, so I forgot to say congratulations on your win against Strauss. I know it’s hard to celebrate because of his death, but don’t let that shit ruin it for you. You knocked out Mason Strauss, the lineal champ. You ought to bask in it. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” I chuckled. “Thanks.”
“Sure thing. Still come to the beach house anytime you want; we just have to get the window fixed. Or are you too rich and have your own beach house now?”
“Nah, I still wanna use yo’ shit. I ain’t trying to blow all my little money.”
We both chortled.
“I hear you, son. Well, talk to you soon.”
“Aight.”
I hung up the phone, pondering about that conversation. I’d been staying up in Henry’s shit for years, and there’d never been a break in. Shit, matter of fact, I’d never even heard about any of those beach houses being broken into. But now that it had, only one muthafucka came to mind: Ozzy.
I wouldn’t put shit past a nigga who felt the need to let his homie go down for a rape charge. All the shit I’d done for his ass, letting him come up off my fucking name, and he still did me dirty.
It was crazy how muthafuckas complained about getting left behind, but when you ain’t do that shit and brought niggas with you, they threw yo’ ass under the bus. As soon as I got my hands on that nigga, it was over for him. I just ain’t know how I wanted to handle the shit. I wanted to cool off so I could think clearly, but I was too pissed the fuck off for that shit.
“Who were you on the phone with?” I heard Blaise’s soft voice, so I turned to see her standing in the bathroom.
“Why, nosy?” I smiled down at her.
“Why are you smiling? Was it a bitch?”
“If it was?” I pulled her into me, kissing her lips slowly.
“Then I’m leaving you.”
“If you leave me, I’m going with yo’ ass.”
She frowned for a second before chuckling and shaking her head.
“That’s not how that works. I pack my shit, then I go, and you’ll be alone here, heartbroken.”
“Fuck out of here. If I see you packing yo’ shit, I’m packing my shit too. We gon’ be walking out that muthafuckin’ door together. We gon’ be like Siamese twins out this bitch.”
“You’re so annoying.” She giggled.
“Ain’t gon’ be no leaving in this shit.” I shook my head, staring at her seriously.
“No cheating as well, which includes texting other bitches and liking hoes’ photos on Instagram.”
She rolled her eyes when a grin covered my face.
“So if her ass is fat, to even where you gotta admit the shit, I can’t like it?”
“Keep fucking with me, Cortez, and I swear to God, I will stab you, but after I cut your dick off.”
“Mm, you making me wanna fuck you.” I gripped her ass roughly in my hands before sucking her lips. I felt her smile before reciprocating.
After a quickie on the double sink, we cleaned up then I got dressed since I had to meet with my manager, Carson, and the team at Avenue Productions about setting up my next fight.
I was ready to go, especially because there were a few muthafuckas talking shit about knocking me out. It was comical as fuck to me, but I guess it was good to have that much confidence. If I could KO Mason Strauss, I wasn’t worried about any other nigga.
I kissed my son gently in order not to wake his ass, then left the bedroom to head to Island’s. Upon entering, I saw her little ass playing with the big ass dollhouse I’d gotten for her. Shit was twice her size. It was funny as fuck seeing her so into the shit.
“You busy, baby girl?” I inquired.
“Yes.” She nodded, moving the furniture in the house around. “You leave, Daddy?”
Smiling, I moved further into the room to pick her up. She was cute as hell, and I wished she was mine for real.
“Yeah, I am.” I kissed her cheek.
“You come back fast.”
“Or what? We gon’ fight?” I laughed when she nodded her head with a smirk. “Aight, boss, I will come back fast.” I placed her to her feet, and she rushed right back to the dollhouse.
Leaving the crib, I pulled my phone from my jeans pocket as I slid into the driver seat of my new Lamborghini truck. I ain’t even pay for this shit; Avenue Productions gifted it to me after my fight against Strauss. I’d gotten them so much money and views, that I guess they wanted to show some fucking appreciation. And a nigga definitely wasn’t gon’ complain about a free whip.
I made it to the Avenue Productions headquarters about thirty minutes later, enjoying the smooth ass ride in this Lambo. Parking around back as instructed, I entered and took the elevator up to the correct suite.
“Cortez Khalil, welcome!” Sebastian, the CEO of Avenue Productions, greeted me, and so did Carson since he was already there. “Let’s have a seat in my office.”
“Aight.” I followed behind the two, and we took a seat around his big ass coffee table.
“So how’ve you been?” Sebastian smiled.
“Good. Just trying to get to the money.”
“I hear ya. Carson tells me you’re opening up a new business, trying to capitalize off of your name while it’s hot.”
“It’s always gon’ be hot. But I wanna talk about this next fight. I got some shit to handle later on, so I’m strapped for time.”
“Right, straight to business. I like that.” Sebastian gave Carson the floor.
“We have a few people that are in line for your next fight. It’s up to you who you want to choose, but these three here have gotten the most buzz over the past year. Their buzz plus yours means a lot of money,” Carson explained as I studied the photos.
“Try to get this nigga right here.” I pointed to a muthafucka named Jaylend Corner. He was a big shit talker, always running his fucking mouth, and I ain’t really like his ass. He reminded me a lot of Mason, just with less accolades.
“Good choice.” Sebastian nodded. He then looked to Carson and said, “Did you mention the other thing?”
Frowning, I looked at Carson too.
“Dr. Hemp, your therapist, has to sign off on you so we can book another fight.”
“I told y’all I need somebody else to do my fucking sessions.” I hissed, not in the mood to deal with that bitch.
“Yes, Cortez, but she’s the only one that can sign off for you now, because she signed off for you to fight. You know the last before the fight and then first session after the fight have to be the same person. Just go, get it over with, and then book this fight, okay?” Carson stared at me.
“Aight, fuck it. But if that bitch comes at me trying to suck me off, I’m slapping the shit out of her ass.”
Carson and Sebastian laughed before dropping their heads. I was dead ass serious.
We wrapped shit up, so I drove my ass right over to a park in Inglewood that I knew Ozzy frequented.
Parking across the street, I walked over, peeping the scene to see if I spotted that nigga. I wanted to do my own looking before I hit Siggy and Cole up. I ain’t know if his ass had told them what was up or not, but I wanted do a little ground work
before I went over there.
“Belly, baby, I’m so happy you’re out!” one of the females seated on the bleachers shouted out to me. She had purple braids in her head and shorts so little they looked like panties. Her pussy looked funky as fuck, even from over here.
Ignoring her ass, I nodded my head to say what’s up to one of the niggas who’d greeted me.
“Aye, my nigga, Belly, you should share the wealth.” He walked up on me with his hand out to give me dap.
Looking at it with disgust, I brought my eyes back to his. “For what? Nigga, I don’t know you. Fuck I look like?”
“Nah.” He chuckled, slightly embarrassed since a few muthafuckas were in earshot. “I was just saying, since we from the same city.”
“Nigga, you better get yo’ bitch ass out on that there street corner and sell dick. I ain’t giving yo’ ass shit. Ask me for some money again, and I’ll break yo’ fucking face, nigga.”
Frowning still, I slipped around him to scope the park once more, then headed back out. Of course, purple braids wouldn’t take my silence as a no, so she rushed up on me as I left through the rickety gate.
“You look so handsome to have just gotten out of jail.”
“I ain’t just get out. If yo’ ass is such a fan, you should know that, right?” I looked down at her, making her giggle and blush.
“My bad.” Licking her lips, she added, “So what’s up?” She cut off my path, standing in front of me.
“With what?”
“Me and you. I’m free all day.”
“Trust me, I knew that already. Any female that chews on gum until it’s hard as a brick like that ain’t got no damn job or bread. Move.” I stepped around her and into the street.
“Okay. I may not have a job, but this pussy is priceless.”
Shouting over my shoulder, I responded, “It better be to make up for how flat that ass is. Shit looks like you got stomped the fuck out on ya ass only.”
Her friends fell out into laughter, which was loud as hell, making it obvious they’d been holding it in for a while.
“Aye, her ass is flat.” The nigga from earlier chimed in. “I hit before.” He clapped his hands, laughing like what he’d said was hilarious.
“And both y’all asses shaped like two crackhead aunties, so I know that sex sounded like a muthafucka stapling some papers.” I got into my car as everyone close by roared with laughter.
Purple braids just stood there with her mouth hanging open, looking dumb as fuck as I pulled off.
Yeah, I loved hood pussy; however, my girl had that shit but with class to it. I had the best of both worlds. No way I was fucking that shit up for a quickie with a ghetto armadillo.
I drove a couple blocks until I was at Cole’s place, since I told him I would be over there around this time. When I parked right in front, he and Siggy rushed down with their jaws on the floor at the sight of my whip.
“Shit is crazy, right?” I grinned, hopping out of the driver’s side and rounding the car to step onto the sidewalk.
“Nigga, you gotta let me ride in this shit. I need some new flicks for the gram for the hoes.” Cole’s eyes were wide as Siggy’s.
I laughed.
“Man, I’m getting paper but not this much.” Siggy shook his head, circling the Lamborghini truck. “How much this cost you?”
“Zero. Got it for free. But let me holla at y’all.” I started toward the porch and heard them following, still floored at the fact that I’d gotten that car free of charge.
Once on the porch, we sat down, and of course, Cole started to roll up.
“Wanna hit?” He looked to me, and I shook my head.
“Nah, but where is Ozzy?” I got right to the fucking point.
“Shit, I been asking this nigga the same thing.” Siggy pointed to Cole. “Nigga been MIA ever since yo’ bail hearing. Y’all ain’t cool or some shit? He ain’t wanna come with us.”
I studied him for a moment to see if his ass was putting on a fucking front for hoe ass Ozzy.
“You seen him?” I turned to Cole, declining to answer Siggy’s question at the moment.
“He came through once after your hearing, telling me he found a hustle and was gon’ be ghost for a minute.” Cole shrugged. I looked him over as well, making sure he wasn’t bullshitting.
“Well I need to find the nigga.” I stood up. “I want y’all to make sure I find his ass too, because if I don’t, I’m coming through fucking shit up, and that’s on everything I fucking love.
Don’t tell his ass it’s me looking for him. When you find him, drop his location to me, simple as that. If I find out either one of y’all muthafuckas was up in that nigga’s face and didn’t tell me, whatever the fuck yo’ worst nightmare is, I’m gon’ make that shit come true. Aight?”
“Aight, nigga, damn, crazy ass.” Siggy shook his head as Cole nodded to me.
Not saying shit else, I made an about face and left.
Some odd days later…
“Okay. So far, this is what they’ve come up with as far as the build of the place. What do you think?”
Carson showed me the blueprint of the club I’d planned to open. This shit was unfamiliar territory, but I trusted this nigga when he said he would be there to work with me. Plus, I wanted to expand my income, get money from different areas. I wanted to have some shit to where when I could no longer box, I could still make a lot cash.
“It looks good. I want more VIP booths though.” I pointed, and he nodded, writing it down in this small ass flip notebook he never left at home, with his corny ass. “I also think it’s time I start taking niggas under my wing. Make some money off that shit. I wanna win some more fights first though.”
“That’s a great idea. You know I’m always with the idea of making more money.” Carson grinned. “You want something to drink? I’m gonna get a coffee.” He rose up. We were in this small ass café, one of them spots females frequented to take pictures for social media.
“Nah, I’m straight.”
Carson got up to stand in line as I replied to some emails and shit. I felt a presence near my table, so I looked up to see a pretty ass bitch with big blonde curly hair, blue eyes, and caramel skin. Her outfit looked cheap as fuck, and was, because I could see her nipples through the top. She was bad as fuck.
“Hey, Belly. I’m a huge fan of yours. Could you sign my t-shirt?” she asked before tossing her hair from one side to the other.
“Yeah, where it’s at?” I sat up.
Digging into her big purse, she pulled the shirt she’d ordered from my website out, so I got a pen from my bag to sign it.
“Thank you so much. I can’t believe I saw you here. I come to this coffee shop all the time.” She sat down.
“Name?” I got ready to sign the shirt.
“Aura.” She giggled for some reason. She watched me write for a minute then added, “I’ve never seen a man as handsome as you in this type of sport. I didn’t even like boxing, but I was up one night and caught an old fight of yours. It was intriguing.”
“Thanks.” I handed her the shirt.
“You’re welcome. So do you know who you’re gonna fight next? I’m sure they’re good and scared.” She laughed.
“Nah, I don’t,” I lied. “But all that shit will come out soon.”
“I know, and I cannot wait. I was so happy when you knocked Mason’s big ugly ass onto his back.”
We both laughed as I nodded.
“Shit, me too.”
She tittered softly before exhaling.
“Well it was nice meeting you, Belly, and thank you for this. Do you mind if I get a photo?”
“I’ll take it.” Carson appeared just as Aura stood up.
Shaking my head at this nigga, I rose up and posed for the photo with the bitch.
“Thank you! Oh my gosh.” She stared down at her iPhone. “Bye!”
I sat back down so Carson and I could talk for a little longer, and then we went our separate ways. As soon a
s I stepped out of the cafe, someone was right on my heels. I was about to blow the fuck up, but I noticed it was Priscilla.
“Oh shit, you almost had some shit coming yo’ way.” I smirked, but she had a straight face.
“Who was that girl?”
“What girl?”
“With the blonde curly hair, Belly.” She folded her arms. “I’ve been in that cafe for the past fifteen minutes, and y’all looked pretty cozy.”
“What? She was a fucking fan. You saw me take a picture with her.” I frowned down at Priscilla.
“It better be a fan and nothing more, because if I find out you’re entertaining other women, I will kill you. I will buy a gun, and I will shoot you in the head.”
There was silence, outside of the passing cars and a few dogs, before I eventually chortled. I could tell Priscilla was dead serious, making it even funnier.
“Calm yo’ ass down. Ain’t nobody cheating on yo’ crazy ass friend.”
“You better not, nigga, because she loves you, like more than I’ve ever seen her love somebody, and she would be distraught, meaning I’d—”
“Kill me. I know. You already said that shit.”
“Okay. Well, bye.” She turned around and went back into the cafe.
I wasn’t even tripping off what just happened. I’d rather my girl have friends like Priscilla any fucking day. Shit, better than having a muthafucka like Ozzy.
I made my way home, and since I heard voices in the den, that’s where I went. Entering, I spotted my son in that swing bed shit he liked, and Island cooking in her fake kitchen as Blaise watched. When Blaise spotted me, a bright ass smile covered her face, so I went to sit next to her on the plush couch we had.
After kissing her slowly, I said, “You know I love you.”
“I love you too.” She blushed, moving her long, dark hair, which had fallen into her face when she dropped her head a little out of embarrassment.
“I love yo’ ass more than that though.”
I wanted her to know that whatever the fuck she felt for a nigga, it was ten times that over here.
Blaise just looked at me, having nothing to say for a minute before palming both sides of my face to kiss me.
Nobody Can Love You Like Them Roughnecks Do 4 Page 20