Chapter Three #6
“Now, in a world full of sex traffickers, why would I tell you where I'm at? What if you trying to set me up and sell my coochie on OnlyFans?”
“Bro, you got my fucking phone!” Logic bellowed.
Beep beep beep
“Maybe if you talk a lil nicer, we can get it back and a deal,” Al suggested. “You’ll attract more bees with honey than vinegar.”
“Fuck all that.” Logic waved him off.
“So, what we about to do?”
“Go get my fucking phone...the fuck you thought?”
Using Al’s phone, Logic called his little brother and told him to track his phone.
Like Al, his brother talked cash money shit and even called their sisters into the room to get in on the fun.
After threatening to cut off the WIFI, his siblings stopped laughing and tracked his phone to a club in downtown Detroit.
Logic was all the way on the other side of town, and the thought of driving thirty minutes to retrieve his property pissed him the fuck off.
“Aye, I fucks with this.” Al changed the subject while removing a pre-rolled blunt from his pocket. “The shit sounds different. Like it’s a new vibe, none of that auto tune shit and the shit you do with your voice crazy as hell.”
“I fucks with it too. After we left Duce house that night, I had him on the phone for like two hours tweaking shit.”
“You’re a fucking perfectionist. It was right the first time.”
“I just want my shit to be A-1.”
“And it is! The fuck. Are you listening to this shit?” Al cut the radio up and started rapping. “Daddy ran the streets, and mama went wit’em, all alone in this world so the dollas I gotta get’em. Broke niggas and fake bitches, I don’t fuck wit’em and if her friends bad, I’m dropping dick in’em.”
Logic smirked. If there was one thing Al didn’t play about, it was his best friend.
He’d go to war for him, behind him, and beside him.
Their friendship formed in elementary school, where they bonded over chocolate milk, cheese pizza, and making beats on the cafeteria tables that had the entire lunchroom jumping.
It was nothing for Logic to hop on the table and start rapping, which always resulted in him getting detention from the teachers and love notes from his classmates.
Those days of rapping in front of people were easy, and at times, he wished he still had that courage.
“What do you think about Dex?” Al asked, cutting the radio down, extending the blunt.
Al couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but something felt off.
It was as if Dex was trying to throw his weight around by talking to people like shit and ogling every woman that walked by.
After the awkward introduction, Al fell back and chopped it up with a couple of people that he knew, hoping that Logic would take the opportunity to make connections, but every time he looked up, Logic was on his phone.
Whenever someone was talking to him, he seemed disinterested, and his standoffish demeanor didn’t help.
Al didn’t want Logic to be a groupie, but making conversation would’ve sufficed.
It would’ve gotten their foot in the door, but Logic wasn’t a small talk kind of nigga.
Discussing bitches, money, and meaningless shit was never his forte, and he wasn’t about to fake the funk for a bunch of industry niggas that he could out-rap with or without a beat.
“Nothing.” Logic shifted in his seat. He inhaled a thick stream of smoke before releasing it. “I’m straight on him.”
Off first impression, Logic thought Dex was a trash ass person, and the nigga sucked as a rapper.
Dex couldn’t find the beat to save his life, and he always tripped over his words.
It was easy to tell he didn’t write the songs he was rapping because he was often caught mumbling his way through parts he didn’t know.
On top of that, Dex was a little too cliché for his liking.
His mannerisms gave off the impression of a nigga who never had anything before.
As far as he was concerned, Dex couldn’t do shit to advance his career. The nigga couldn’t even help himself.
“You know I don’t fuck with his type, and I get the whole logic behind you setting up this situation, but I can’t rock with that nigga.”
“It wouldn’t hurt to rub shoulders with the nigga,” Al replied. “His label-
“His label is bullshit, bro. Oakwood be giving out them slave ass contracts, and I'm not with it. I’ll sign to Death Row before I fuck with them. They know that nigga can’t rap, but people will embarrass the fuck outta you while capitalizing off your name.
It’s so many niggas that’s signed to shitty labels, and I don’t wanna be one of them.
I’ll kill a nigga before I let’em play in my face. ”
“I feel that shit.” Al nodded, dropping the subject.
“Then we’ll find another way.” There was nothing else to be said.
If Logic wasn’t fucking with Dex, then neither was he.
While Logic did his music shit, Al would continue to hustle, waiting for the world to catch on to the fact that his best friend was pure fucking pressure.
“His girl though,” Logic whistled, recalling their brief encounter.
“Nigga, she so fucking fine!” Al agreed, “And that ass... shit look softer than melted butter.”
“Chill, that’s gone be mine.”
“This nigga,” Al chortled. “That girl not gone leave her man for you.”
“Fuck outta here. I’m the hood nigga of her dreams... she just doesn’t know it yet. Matter fact, unlock this phone for me.” Logic tossed the phone into his lap. “Call mine and save it under bestie.”
“Wow, so because I’m black, you think I can break into phones?”
“Nah, 'cause you a criminal nigga.”
“Sounds about right,” Al chuckled.
???
“Slurp me like a cup of tea while I roll and smoke my weed. I asked her why her circle small, she say she sucker free,” Tyler rapped, standing in front of Dex, who had his arm draped over her shoulder.
She loved Money Bagg and never missed an opportunity to rap along with him.
Tyler rolled her hips against Dex while he sipped from the neck of the liquor bottle.
Lights flashed around them as the DJ shouted out their section.
This is the type of shit Dex loved. There was something about being the center of attention that did something to his spirits.
He had Detroit’s Princess of R&B under his arm, a section full of niggas who looked up to him, and a room full of bitches that wanted a piece of him.
Between the attention and the way Tyler was rolling her hips into him, Dexter’s dick was on brick.
“Show these bitches how it’s done, uh, stick out your tongue, uh, make me sprung,” Dex rapped, wrapping his hand around Tyler’s neck.
Tilting her head back, he poured the liquor into her mouth, and like a pro, Tyler swallowed it without flinching.
“Freak ass.” Dex covered her mouth with his, sucking on her tongue ring.
He was sprung and had been for a very long time.
Something about knowing he was her first turned Dexter the fuck out.
Tyler squatted in front of Dexter and rolled her hips like she rode his dick.
She held on to the waist of his pants while wagging her tongue.
In the zone, Dexter filled his mouth with liquor and bent down to waterfall it into hers.
He loved it when she was on her bad girl shit, only with him, of course.
Tyler stood up and bent over, giving the club a glimpse of Dexter's name that was tatted right under her cheek.
The crop top she sported showed her diamond belly ring and the vine of roses that wrapped around her waist.
“You gone sit on my face tonight?” Dex questioned against her lips.
“Yep, and I'mma try to smother you with all this ass,” Tyler promised.
“You love a nigga, huh?”
“I love the way you fuck me,” she grinned.
“Then we need to get the fuck outta here so you can back up all this hot girl shit. You ready?”
“Yea, but I gotta pee.”
“Do your thing. I’ll be right here,” Dexter uttered, locking eyes with a female across the club.
Tyler stepped forward, stumbling a bit, but she quickly shook it off.
Falling on her ass in the club wasn’t in her plans for the night.
Club goers and influencers were waiting for a misstep.
Instead of helping her, they’d snap a couple of videos and pictures claiming she couldn’t handle her liquor, which was a lie.
“Ty, where are you going?” Aria asked, seeing her move through the section.
“Bathroom.”
“And his triflin ass couldn’t walk with you?” She gently grabbed her forearm, allowing Tyler to lean on her.
“I’m grown,” she slurred, stumbling again. Aria caught her, and Tyler grinned lazily. “You know I love you, right?”
“Duh, bitch. Come on before you piss on these people floor.” She guided her through the section.
The line to the bathroom was short and Aria thanked God for that.
She was ready to call it a night. Clubbing after concerts wore her out, but she’d rather be there for Tyler than have her walking through a club unprotected.
Dexter thought he was the star, so the security team usually hung back to protect him versus escorting Tyler around. That was Aria and Shane’s job.
“Ready,” Tyler announced, swinging the bathroom door open. “And you were right about these shoes. I can’t feel my feet,” she whined.
“Then let’s go because I’m trying to get some dick tonight,” Aria wagged her tongue.
“From who?”
“From whoever responds to my hey big head text.”
“Freak ass, let’s-” Tyler paused mid-sentence.
Aria followed her eyes and sighed. She could smell the bullshit on the horizon.
“I’m about to fuck this nigga up. I can’t even piss without him being all in a bitch face.”
“Ty, let’s just leave,” Aria pleaded, reaching out for her. “He’s not worth it. We can go get something to eat and chill. It’s been a long night.”
“We can leave right after I rock this nigga’s shit.” Tyler pulled away, stomping in Dexter’s direction.
???
Logic pulled up to Eastwood and frowned.
The line to get in the building was wrapped around the corner, and from the names boldly etched across the front of the building, he knew why.
It also confirmed who had his phone. Groaning loudly, Logic picked up Al’s phone and called his number again.
As it rung, he watched Tyler, Dexter, and a bunch of big, burly niggas file out of the club.
Tyler was staggering and pointing her finger at Dexter’s face while another woman held her up.
Bystanders had their phones out, recording the altercation while calling Tyler’s name.
It was evident that she was drunk, and Dex was antagonizing her by laughing.
Logic didn’t know why, but his blood boiled.
Instead of Dex trying to shield her, he got off on exposing her flaws to the world.
“That shit ain’t funny.” Tyler mushed Dex with force, making his neck snap back. “Keep playing in my face and I’ll leave you right with these dusty, broke bitches.”
“Chill the fuck out.” He grabbed her hand and bent it back, causing her to scream out in pain.
“Let me go!” She tried to snatch away from him, but Dexter tightened his grip on her wrist.
“Act like I won’t break your fucking fingers,” he gritted, bending her fingers back toward her wrist.
Logic didn’t know what prompted him to get out of the car, but before his brain could register what his legs were doing, he was recklessly running across the street like he had nine lives.
With tunnel vision, he dodged oncoming traffic with fire in his eyes.
If there was one thing he hated, it was a coward ass nigga.
“Lo,” Al called out, struggling to put the car in park since Logic failed to. “Nigga, wait!” He choked on the smoke in his mouth. “Bout to fuck up my car.”
Pulling up his loose jeans, Logic pushed his way through the thick crowd and snatched Dexter by the back of his shirt, forcing him to release the hold on Tyler’s hand. The crowd gasped as Dexter backpedaled through the air, landing on his ass.
“What the fuck,” he shouted, standing to his feet with the help of his team.
“Watch your hands, my nigga.” Logic glared, not in the least worried about the big dudes who were now surrounding him while Tyler nursed her throbbing hand.
“Is this nigga trying to rescue my bitch?” Dex tried to play off the embarrassment that caused his face to turn bright shades of red. “Try that shit again.” He raised his shirt, exposing the butt of his gun.
“Whoa.” Al slid between them. “That’s not a smart move,” he calmly stated.
“I’m saying, what’s up with your people?
” Dexter retreated, cocking his head to the side.
As hard as he portrayed himself to be, Al was really about that life, and he knew it.
Al didn’t need to display that he was strapped, it was simply a known fact.
“I mean I know I blew the nigga off, but damn. If he can’t rap, he can’t rap,” Dexter spoke cockily.
“Who the fuck-
“Don’t entertain this clown,” Logic cut him off. “You a weak ass nigga, and she stupid as fuck for fucking with you.” He turned to Tyler. “Gimme my phone.”
“I don’t-
Logic didn’t let her finish the dumb ass statement.
He reached forward and snatched the phone out of her hands before she could protest. Her weak ass security guards stood there as if she wasn’t a woman they were being paid to protect, as if she wasn’t a star.
They had allowed an unknown nigga to walk up to her and snatch something out of her hand.
“Here.” Logic handed her the right phone. “I’d advise you to get another nigga and another team 'cause all these niggas weak ass fuck.”