Chapter 8 Blaze
Chapter Eight
BLAZE
One month after Valentine’s Day, I walked into Rhapsody’s shop for a pedicure appointment, but I had my homegirl, London with me.
She was one of the interior decorators that did my home.
When we entered the salon, Rhapsody was on the phone, but she smiled at us.
We waited patiently for the conversation to end.
“Hey,” she smiled at me then London when she ended the call. “I didn’t know you were bringing someone. Hi, I’m Rhapsody.”
London was bad as fuck, but she was married, and I had always kept it professional with her.
She was standing beside me dressed to impress and looking like an Instagram model, and Rhapsody hadn’t batted an eye.
There were no hints of jealousy or subtle signs of anger.
We’d only been together for a month, but she knew I’d never play in her face like that.
“She’s your one-month anniversary gift.”
The look of confusion on Rhapsody’s face made me chuckle.
“She’s an interior designer. She was one of two that did my house. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the salon, and you don’t have to use her. But if you want to do anything different with the space, I got you. Happy anniversary.”
Rhapsody ran around the counter with a huge grin on her face and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Thank you, so much. You’re going to have my ass spoiled rotten.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” I assured her while holding on to her ass.
Rhapsody’s pussy was amazing anyway, but when I surprised her or did some really thoughtful romantic shit, she turned all the way up in the bedroom. I wouldn’t have been able to cheat if I wanted to because shorty kept my balls drained. I was enjoying my pedicure when my father called my phone.
“What’s up Pops?”
“We got a body at the funeral home today. I thought you might want to know about it.”
My blood ran cold. I wasn’t a stranger to death or bad news, but I had to wonder who it was. “Oh yeah?”
“Andrea,” my father sighed.
I wasn’t sure how to receive the news. As many times as I had contemplated killing her, I wasn’t happy that she was dead. “What happened?”
“She was in traffic, and someone shot her car up. More than thirty shell casings at the scene. Whoever it was, it was personal. This shit wasn’t an accident.”
I owned a funeral home. I had seen countless bodies, but hers wasn’t one that I wanted to see. “Thanks for the heads up. Go ahead and handle that. I’ll be MIA for a few days.”
No one except Ryan and my cousin Quail knew what Andrea took from me.
All my family knew was that we broke up.
I assumed if her body was at my funeral home, her family didn’t know how I felt about her either.
Since I stopped hustling and was busy running numerous businesses, I wasn’t locked in with street gossip like that.
I was sure the hood knew what happened to Andrea though.
Before I could do any investigating, my phone rang again. That time it was Ryan.
“What’s up?”
“You heard about Andrea?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know details. Pops just called and said she’s there.”
“Man,” Ryan blew out a breath. “Word is she was fucking with an African nigga, and she hit him for some serious bread. She was on her way out of town, and he caught that ass. It wasn’t just him though. Two people hopped out the car and set it off.”
“Damn.”
Again, I wasn’t happy, but I couldn’t feel bad for her either. How could I? Andrea kept playing with fire, and she got burned. Shockingly, it made me feel good that I didn’t do anything to her. Fuck Chauncey, but her death wasn’t on my conscious, and that was something that I could live with.