Chapter 9
The bar was a familiar place for Juelz to go and clear his head.
After leaving the hotel with Shyann, he needed to blow off some steam.
Neon lights flickered over busted pool tables.
The scent of old blunts and spilled beer was heavy in the air, and music loud enough to drown out the guilt on his back.
He posted up in the corner with a half-smoked blunt behind his ear and regret sitting on his chest like a brick.
Kane slid in first, black hanging off the side of his mouth, diamond in his ears still catching the light.
“Boy, you look like you seen death,” Kane said, eyeing him.
Mar and Sintonio followed right after, dapping up and calling out their wing order like it was just another Thursday night.
Mar leaned in, “Yo. Whaddup? You do look a lil’ sad. You lost your puppy or something, nigga.”
Juelz laughed once, dry, and sharp. “Man. You ever do some shit you can’t come back from?”
Kane frowned. “What the hell you got going on now, boy?”
Juelz paused. Looking up at the guys one by one. “A whole fuckin’ lot.”
They all looked at each other, knowing Juelz always stayed in some kind of mess. The look he had on his face tonight? Told them that this was serious.
Juelz continued. “I—I slept with Tasha's best friend.”
Sintonio shot up so fast from his chair, drew his nine, and slammed it on the table, the metal clanking loudly. “Nigga! You did what?”
Juelz held his hands up in defense. “WHOA! WHOA! Not Niyah, nigga. I’m talkin’ bout Shyann bitch ass. The fuck you gon’ do? Shoot me right here, my baby? Put that shit up and sit yo ass down.”
Sintonio calmed down, tucking his nine back into his waistband. “Next time, lead with that muthafucka. You were ‘bout to have that yellow tape ‘round yo ass.”
Juelz kept talking, waving off Sintonio. “SHYANN’S BITCH ASS,” he said sarcastically toward Sintonio. “Pulled some foul shit… got a fuckin’ video of Tasha at the hospital while she was workin’—”
Kane interrupted him. “And, nigga? The fuck. What’s wrong with that? A lot of bitches take pictures while working.”
Juelz tilted his head to the side, clearly annoyed. “Muthafucka, can I finish?” he snapped. “While she was workin’, she slipped meds from the cart or some shit. So Shyann's grimy-ass cousin that works there too caught it on video and sent the shit to her.”
The guys were stunned now. Shock. They knew how close Niyah, Tasha, and Shyann were. They couldn’t believe Shyann was doing it dirty like that.
Sintonio whistled low. “Slippin’ meds? That ain’t just a revoked license. Shit, that’s prison time. Damn, Tasha.”
Kane adjusted himself in the chair, interlocking his fingers on the table. “So, what the fuck that gotta do with you sticking yo dick in her, nigga?”
Juelz threw back a shot of Henny, slamming the glass on the table.
“Because, muthafucka, Shyann hoe ass.” He looked around, making sure no one was listening.
“Said if I didn’t, she would send the video to the medical board and make Tash lose her license.
Bitch tryna blackmail me for some dick. Ain’t that some shit? ”
“You serious?” Sintonio said, “And you did it?”
Juelz folded his arms, feeling ashamed now. “Ain’t like I had a choice, nigga.”
Mar shook his head and leaned back in the booth. “Nah, nigga. There’s always a choice. You let that snake bitch trap you. And the fact that it’s Tasha’s girl.”
“I know that.” Juelz hit the table with his hand. “I fucked up. Tasha gon’ fuckin’ kill me and that bitch.”
They all agreed as they took more shots.
The silence stretched.
Kane shook his head. “You gotta tell her, nigga. Don’t let that girl keep smiling in that bitch face, knowing she got one up on her.”
“It sound easy, nigga. Imagine I tell Tasha, hey, Tasha boo, I fucked Shyann, but I didn’t have a choice.
” Juelz clapped his hands and pitched his voice high to mock Tasha.
“Oh, hold up, hold up… you what muthafucka. Fuck you and that bitch. I’ll cut yo fuckin’ dick off muthafucka.
” Juelz sat up straighter. “Hell no, I’m not telling her that shit. I need my fuckin’ dick.”
Sintonio cut in. “You let that bitch keep pullin’ your strings, and Tasha finds out anyway? You gonna lose your dick either way, nigga. Trust me, I've been in that same seat with Niyah ass. It’s easier to just come clean.”
Juelz didn’t respond. Just sat there, chest rising slow like each breath hurt more than the last.
The waitress came back, dropped off the basket of wings, but nobody touched them. Juelz leaned forward, elbows on the sticky table, stroking his goatee. “I hate myself for lookin’ this damn good, fuck.”
Kane finally grabbed a wing, taking a bite before pointing the bone at Juelz. “Better hope your looks can stop Tasha's bullet, nigga. ‘Cause the way you movin’? It damn sho headed your way.”
The crew sat back in silence. Eating the wings and taking shots that the waitress kept bringing to the table, until it was time to leave.
An hour later, the car barely hit park before Juelz stumbled out, one sneaker untied, Henny still warm on his breath. Kane and Sintonio got out slower, laughing as they helped him get up the stairs. Juelz had taken more shots than he intended to, and they had to drive him home.
“Damn, Jue, nigga,” Mar said from the backseat, phone already recording. “How many shots did yo ass take tonight?”
“Ion know, but I’m floatin’, nigga,” Juelz slurred, spinning halfway on the sidewalk before gripping the railing as if it were a lifeline. “Gah damn, Kane. Don’t let me fall, nigga. I might put this fit back on tomorrow.”
Kane shook his head, catching him by the arm. “Come on, we got you. Pick yo fuckin’ feet up.”
Juelz focused hard, watching his own feet like they had a mind of their own. “Right foot… left foot…right… I’m doin’ it,” he shouted, wobbling like a loose toddler on a mission.
Kane shook his head. “This nigga so drunk.”
They finally made it to the top step. Juelz was fumbling for the door key, but no luck.
“Nigga! Where the key at?” Sintonio asked, still holding him up.
“I…I musta lost it or somthin’. I dunno. Fuck!”
Juelz leaned into the Ring camera, staring at it as if it were a mirror.
“Tashaaaaa,” he sang off-key, pushing his face up close to the lens. “You… are not alone… I am here with youuuu—”
Kane joined in. “Though you’re farrr…away...”
Sintonio smacked him upside the head. “Really nigga? It’s bad enough with his drunk ass.”
Kane rubbed the back of his head. “What, man? I love Michael.”
Just then, the Ring camera chirped to life with Tasha’s voice, clear and agitated. “I know you fuckin’ lyin’. Larry, Curly, and Moe, do y’all have any idea what damn time it is?”
Mar damn near dropped his phone out the window from leaning over laughing at them.
“Tashaaa!” Juelz yelled again, dramatic as hell. “Put on yo red dresssss… and slip on your high heelsss…”
Kane shouted into the speaker, “And some of that.”
Sintonio slapped a hand over his mouth. “Tasha, please. Just open the door. I know it’s late.”
Tasha’s voice stayed cold. “So why the hell y’all wakin’ me up? Where his key at?”
“I…I…I…lost it,” Juelz stuttered. “The key gone. Vanished. Poof.”
“Poof is whatcha ass need to do, Juelz. I mean, really, if it worked like ‘I Dream of Jeannie,’ I’d blink yo’ ass away from me.” Tasha echoed. “I don’t believe this shit.”
They heard a loud click, then the door flung open hard as hell. Tasha stood there in a bonnet and robe, face blank but eyes dangerous. “Getcha ass in here.”
Sintonio and Kane stumbled inside, still holding Juelz up. “Where you want us to put him?” they asked.
Tasha pointed to the sofa. “Drop his drunk ass over there. And if he vomits on my sofa? Ooh, I’m killin’ all y’all ass.”
Juelz lit up like Christmas morning. “Damn, girl, you so fine when you mad.”
“Ugh!” Tasha rolled her eyes, snatching his car keys from the guys. “Bye, and next time? Leave his drunk ass out there in the car and let him sleep it off.”
Tasha slammed the door.
As they walked back to the car, still cracking up, Kane looked at Sintonio. “He gon’ wake up with a knot upside his head…and no idea why.”