Chapter Four #2
It felt like a dagger had been stabbed through my chest. She was better off spitting on me. For once in a long time I was at a loss for words.
"What is it that you want from me?"
There it was, the million-dollar question that hung between us both.
"I want to be yo nigga."
Her face screwed up this time.
"My nigga?"
"Yo man," I corrected. "I want to be your man."
“Do you know how to hoola hoop,” she said.
My face screwed up in confusion. “What?”
“Exactly.”
Saying that, she went inside her purse and pulled out two twenty-dollar bills and placed them under her drink, then sauntered away, leaving me with her ass to kiss.
It felt like my chin had hit the fucking floor watching her just leave and shit like that.
Part of me wanted to take control and grab her ass up, but that wouldn't do a bit of good.
Honestly, women didn't require much. At least not the ones I fucked with. A bitch would be excited to get a happy meal out of me and would settle. I can see now that Sia is different and would bring me to my knees. I don't know how to feel about that shit at all.
I watched her walk to the booth, scratching the back of my head feeling like a damn fool.
I ain't want to say shit to nobody, not even Rico and Romeo, who kept talking my damn ear off, question after question, that I didn't even answer.
How the fuck I'ma tell my niggas that I slipped the ball?
That ain't in my steelo. I ain't never failed at shit in life.
I could fuck Donald Trump's bitch if I wanted to.
Sia had me trippin' and I don't know how to feel about that.
My mood was all fucked up, but I held it together and watched my nigga KC perform and do his thing.
Every so often, I glanced over at Sia and her homegirl having the time of their life, rapping along to the lyrics.
The few times I looked over there, stealing glances at her, she'd caught me.
I flagged down the bartender, and told them to send a bottle of whatever they were sipping on.
A few minutes later, the same bartender popped up, with a bottle of Clase Azul Reposado Tequila.
Confusion draped over my face because I didn't ask for a bottle and my niggas didn't request another one to my knowledge, but when she said that Sia had purchased it, I looked past her to see a flirtatious glare on Sia's face making me smirk.
That was some boss shit. I was in way over my head but I was up for the challenge.
Midway through KC's performance he was searching through the crowd looking for a girl.
The spotlight searched through the crowd, but KC wasn't following along.
He was looking for the baddest bitch himself.
Most of the women were being pick-me's with their hands up screaming for them to pick him, but when his eyes darted in the direction my mind was a minute ago, I froze while standing in place.
"The fine shit with the leopard dress on," he called out. The music had gotten low as he spoke.
Sia knew he was talking about her, yet she still chose to look around.
She was the only woman in here wearing a skin-tight leopard dress that looked painted on her, like a layer of second-skin.
KC confirmed that he was talking about her, but she hesitated to go toward the stage.
Her homegirl had to nudge her to do so. When she did, she did the sexiest fucking walk that could make a nigga dick-hard.
Every nigga and bitch in sight glued their eyes on her, eyeballing the fuck out of her.
I was staring so close that I could see the thong planted between her ass-cheeks.
Badly enough I wanted to spread it, put my face between it and tongue fuck it.
Jealousy struck through me, watching her sit on his lap, and she began to blush as the music started back up, and KC rapped along with the track.
He was bold enough to slip his hand in her dress and flick it over her nipple.
Sia's granny-ass ain't even swat his hand away.
She was gyrating in his lap and shit, rapping along and blushing, like she was enjoying this shit.
Then it hit me.
She knew he was my nigga. Frequently, we posted each other.
I'd been knowing KC since our dicks touched our balls.
Our mama's were friends and their mama's were friends.
Shit, he was damn near like a brother. The only way she wouldn't know that we were cool is if she didn't follow me on social but she did.
I can see now that her old ass was choosing.
Once the song ended, he leaned down and murmured something in her ear before signaling for security to come over. After exchanging a few quiet words with them, one of his guards escorted her backstage.
By then, anger had me in a chokehold. I was seeing red, my blood boiling hotter than a motherfucker.
I didn't waste another second. I headed in the same direction they'd gone, catching up to the security posted at the door.
With the same level of access KC had, getting inside wasn't an issue.
We'd been kicking it before the party even started anyway, so nobody questioned me as I stepped through.
Sia's eyes met mine the second I stepped in the room. Purposely I locked the door, making it click, sounding off throughout the room, making her frown.
"What the fuck you doin'?" I spoke first, before she even had a chance to.
"I should be asking you that? You the one acting like a groupie-hoe!" The last sentence escaped my mouth quicker than I could catch, making me mentally punch myself for letting it slip.
"Excuse me!" She stood up from the sofa then walked over to me with her arms folded in front of her breasts. "I don't have to explain shit to you, Dose."
"Yeah you do! You choosin' Sia. You plan on getting fucked by my nigga tonight or sum," I grilled her, damn near breathing down her neck as I stood over her.
I ain't have no right snapping off on her like this, but she made me fucked up.
"Nigga excuse me if I interrupted a dick-swinging contest between the two of you!" She snapped back. "Is that his plan to try and fuck me. Niggas still bet over pussy now? Pardon me for trying to get a fucking picture and an autograph from one of my favorite rappers! I hate you Memphis niggas!"
I parted my lips to speak but I felt bad, so little to no words escaped my mouth.
I tried to make an attempt to grab her after she unlocked the door, brushing past me, but she yanked away from my hold and sauntered away, making me feel silly as hell.
I wasn't left with much of a choice but to run after her to make shit right between us.
My eyes darted between the club, where she wasn't, then I staggered towards the front entrance and out the club, where she was, with her arms still folded, looking pissed.
"Sia," I called out after her, only for her to snap her neck back, roll her eyes and saunter away, as if she'd get far in her heels on the rocky pavement. "Sia!" I called out after her again once more.
"What?" She stopped in her tracks with heavy aggravation and aggression in her tone. Her veins were bulging through her neck. "It ain't shit else for you to say, Dose. It's clear that I'm a groupie-hoe, so what the fuck is it for you to say, nigga?"
My face softened hearing her repeat that. "I ain't even mean that, Sia."
"Oh really?" Her brow rose and her hand went on her curved hip. "I don't know what the fuck you meant. I can only go off what you said."
"Let me apologize then."
"For what though? You can't take shit back."