Chapter Ten
DOSE
Earlier That Night
"That shit go hard, don't it?" KC glanced back at me with a blunt in his hand as he turned the volume down on a beat his producer sent him.
Me, Rico, Romeo, and a few other niggas were posted up in the studio with him, just catching a vibe.
Even though he'd dropped an album not too long ago, he was already back in the booth, running through beats and seeing which ones spoke to him.
Success had him wide awake. He was in his prime, riding the high of one hit after another, and the hunger hadn't left him yet.
The way he saw it, the work couldn't stop.
He'd already proven he could make a hit, then followed it up with another.
Now he had to keep his foot on the gas. The last thing he wanted was for people to write him off as a one-hit wonder.
He'd climbed too high and sacrificed too much to let himself fall now.
"Yeah, that junt go hard," Rico took the blunt from him and took a long pull from it, then passed it to me. I took it, took a toke, then passed it to Romeo as I exhaled from my nose.
"Yeah, that mu'fucka lit. You gon' be stepping on these niggas' necks fa sho'."
"These niggas been sleep on me for way too long. They ain't gon' know what hit 'em."
"Aye," Romeo called out, getting our attention. "Where the hoes at, bruh?"
KC sucked his teeth as he shook his head. "They supposed to be coming through. They ain't coming here for yo ass, nigga!"
I shook my head at them both. "I'ma go take a piss."
The studio was holed up somewhere in the East, not too far from where I stayed.
It was late as hell, but if KC said some hoes were coming through, then he meant that shit.
They were groupie bitches looking to get wifed up.
There were a few times they pulled up and didn't leave with shit but a wet chin and some weed.
They'd be grateful enough to say they sucked some dick, but it was never nothing serious.
I wasn't planning on staying long anyway.
My intention wasn't to roll up and get high, but I needed something to get Sia off my mind.
It didn't seem to work though. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her pretty ass face behind my eyelids.
Seemed like I did all that shit to get to where we are now for nothing, because she was confusing the fuck out of me.
That type of shit bothers me the most—when I prove to you that I fuck with you, I expect that shit in return.
All I can think of is her being used to that shit—niggas giving her what she wants and only getting the short end of the stick—feeling played.
I don't like shit like that, because you can't play a player who wrote the handbook.
Truth be told, after the dinner, we were kicking it a lot, so I figured we were going somewhere or building something, but she was treating me like a pair of black forces, and that ain't cool at all.
After I pissed, I walked to the sink, washed my hands, then walked out and headed back to the studio.
The hoes had arrived rather quickly. One of them I recognized from before—another chicken head.
Though her back was to me, I recognized that too.
And her sweet, intoxicating scent wafted through the air, overpowering the blunts of loud and cheap weave.
Sia was sitting in KC's lap fucking around with the keyboard. I'd already taken a seat, but she hadn't seen me yet. My red eyes lowered over her frame and roamed over her curves. The pink crop top and jean shorts hugged her body right, displaying everything.
This was a scene for a typical hoe, and if that's what she wanted to do, I wouldn't be the one to come between her and another nigga's business. So I stood up and decided to dip out.
"D!" KC called out after me.
My head swiveled around. "Nigga, you leavin' already?" His arms extended.
Sia's eyes grew wide, noticing me now.
"Yeah, you know I don't kick it with you niggas past twelve. I ain't gon' want to get up in the morning," I joked with him, but on the inside, I was seeing red, and it wasn't from the blunt I smoked either.
"Just hit me up then."
I didn't say too much. Instead, I walked out, my lip curled up, feeling pissed. I was full of rage and anger, because I couldn't go upside her fucking head like I wanted to. The best thing for me to do was let a hoe be a hoe.
The Following Day
"They're thinking about tearing this place down, Doc. Word of mouth has gotten out that this is a shake joint," Mayor Ryan spoke, with his hands tucked in his pocket.
Pops and I were seated on the opposite side of him in a booth at the Dungeon.
He kept tucking his hands back in his pocket as if he wasn't going to remove them to wipe the sweat off the top of his head, to keep from hitting the table.
It wasn't hot in here. There was too much fucking going on for the heat to be the issue.
This motherfucker knew that he was in hot water delivering news that neither of us wanted to hear.
And he couldn't let his bad news leak—if they even put a nail on this motherfucker, it was over.
Pops chuckled as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"With all due respect, Doc, I'm doing everything in my power to steer them in the opposite direction."
"That's not the least of my concern, Mayor. You know what I'll do if that happens, right? I have so much footage of you eating so much BBL ass you'll be coughing up silicone by the time I'm through with yo ass."
The Mayor uttered a nervous chuckle. "I promise you'll never have to mention that."
"I expect your word to be bond, nigga!" Pops nodded his head.
"You have my word."
"Don't bullshit me!"
"I-I won't." The mayor stammered before leaving and being escorted out by one of the bartenders.
We eyed him until he disappeared.
"You think he'll do what he's supposed to do?" I asked, glancing over at my Pops. He adjusted the Rolex on his wrist as he took a deep breath.
"That nasty-ass nigga don't have a choice."
"Pops, that's the last fucking thing we need—"
He looked over at me. "You worried?"
"I don't know, man." I sighed, running a hand over my face.
"Who got you bothered? It's a piece of pussy out there that's got you wide open," he snickered.
"Nigga, fuck you. I ain't the one in the motherfucker smelling like breast milk," I joked.
"Yeah, I'd rather have it no other way though."
"On some serious shit, you think we need to pipe down the rules in here? It was probably some lame-ass nigga who couldn't get in and felt some type of way. I swear niggas get too much time on their hands and take shit too far."
"We have way too many people on our roster who can vouch that this business brings good faith. We have St. Pete and so many charitable foundations who look forward to our generous donations every year." He told me as he smoothed out his shirt.
"I'm just saying the facts."
"What I said are facts. I ain't worried 'bout shit!"
For a minute we chopped it up. Ever since that nigga married Myla, he'd been too busy to talk to the kid. I kept telling myself that I'd stop by and get a taste of their marital bliss, but time was running away from me, so I guess I couldn't put all the blame on him.
Sia had been blowing me up, texting me her side of the story, letting me know that she didn't get fucked. Either way, whatever she did to the next nigga's dick wasn't my concern.