Chapter 2 #2
Instead of meeting him half way, I looked at his hand like it had shit on it for two reasons.
That nigga’s hands looked like they hadn’t been washed since his mama washed his ass.
I ain’t never seen a nigga with so much dirt under his nails in my life.
Then, that nigga knew I hated to be called fucking Baby Frank.
My name was mutha fucking Faheem Banks, not Franklin Banks.
I loved my dad and looked up to him to a degree.
However, I was my own nigga, lived by my own rules, and moved how I wanted.
I was far from a fucking baby, and I slick felt like this nigga was tryna be funny.
If Clive wanted to fuck around and find out, he could.
I had some shit on me that would make him think twice about using the word baby in the same sentence.
“Nigga, don’t play with me,” I barked at his bitch ass. I had all intentions of cutting the nigga some slack, but he was finna fuck all that up.
“Aww, youngin’, I’m just fucking with you. Don’t kill a nigga over a joke.” Clive was clearly drunk as fuck. He smelled like a pile of shit. The frown on my face should have told that nigga my fuse was running short.
“Do I look like a fucking joke to you?” I asked with my brows furred together, squaring my shoulders.
I saw myself knocking the nigga out just for GP.
I was disgusted by this nigga in front of me right now.
Anytime I’d ever seen Clive he looked put together.
He wasn’t in Gucci or no shit like that, but he looked like he was maintaining.
I never expected the nigga to be a bum playing dress up.
“Nn-no,no, man. I’m just going through a lot. My old lady done left. She ain’t answering my calls. I’m-”
“What yo bitch got to do with you not handling yo’ business with us? “
“I'm… I-I’m not… My head ain’t been in the game. My wife been on some bullshhh-”
“Bitch ass nigga, I ain’t been on shit but Juni’s fucking couch ‘cause you put a fourty-eight-hour restraining order on me, so I couldn’t come home!
” a woman yelled as a car door slammed shut.
I turned around seeing an older woman you could tell had her good days, but time was whooping her ass.
Standing with rollers in her hair, a house coat, and slippers storming up the walkway with fire in her eyes, she looked like she was ready to kill both of us.
“You probably had that nasty bitch you be fucking on in my got damn house.”
“Maaa!” Someone from behind the older broad called out. “You said you weren't coming over here tryna fight with Daddy.” I saw the little broad from the doctor’s office the other day. She was coming up the stairs a few feet behind her mama.
“Girl, shut the hell up. You know damn well this nigga ain’t right, and I’m not gon’ let that shit slide either.”
“See what I mean? This bitch got my head fucked up. Nancy, you the reason my life fucked up. My bitch don’t want to talk to me ‘cause that shit you pulled!” Clive yelled, spit flying from his mouth as he stepped from his spot in the doorway onto the porch.
“Nigga, watch where the fuck you spittin’ at. Nasty mutha fucka.” I glared at that nigga in disgust. All I knew was if that nigga got spit on me, I was laying that nigga out. I ain’t give a fuck who was around.
“My bad, Faheem. Nancy ass always gets under my damn skin.”
“Nigga, I don’t give a fuck about shit you talking about.
” Nancy shoved her way past Clive and I.
“Better not be no bitch in here, or it’s gon’ take The National Guard to keep me off ya trifling ass,” Nancy aggressively said, almost tearing the door all the way off the hinges as she made her way into their house.
“Yeah, bitch, take yo’ ass in that house and clean up that dirty mutha fuckin’ house, ho!” Clive yelled behind Nancy’s disappearing figure.
“Daddy, I don’t have time to keep coming over here ‘cause y’all fightin’,” the broad said with annoyance on her pretty face.
The other day at the doctor’s, my hand was hurting too damn bad for me to really give a fuck what shorty looked like, and I had Mixie with me.
I wasn’t tryna hear her fucking mouth all day.
The meds my doctor gave me after he put this cast on my hand made me feel good, and Mixie’s ass not being here naggin’ in my ear gave me the clear mind to really take her pretty ass in.
Shorty was average height like 5’5 or 5’6 with flawless brown sugar colored skin, her oval shaped head was kind of big, but the shit was sexy.
She had dark brown cat-shaped eyes, a dainty, pointed nose, with full heartshaped lips.
I wasn’t sure if her hair was real or what, but the shit looked real hanging down the middle of her back.
Shorty was curvy, her breasts were a c-cup, maybe a small d-cup with sharp hips, thick thighs.
She was definitely the type of broad I would duck off with.
I wasn’t gon’ leave my bitch, but I didn’t mind fucking off when my interest was piqued.
“Juniper, nobody told you to bring ya ass over here. Stay out me and ya mama’s business. We grown. We yo’ parents, not the other way around," Clive drunkenly snapped, and Juniper frowned her pretty lips up, shooting Clive a deadly glare.
“Act like it then. The fuck.” Juniper snapped right back at Clive. “And why is he here?” she asked, cutting her eyes at me then quickly looking back at Clive.
“He just here to catch up with me.” The expression on Clive’s face told me he didn’t want his daughter knowing what was going on. “Me and his daddy go way back, but he finna leave in a few seconds, baby girl.” Clive thought he was outsmarting a nigga by saying I was leaving to his daughter.
In real life, that shit didn’t mean shit to me. If I wanted to, I would kill him, his wife, and their fine ass daughter without a second thought. But Clive had shown me a weakness that would be more beneficial to us.
“I’ll see you, big dog,” I mockingly said to Clive as I made my way off the porch, catching a glimpse of Juniper's fat ass on my way down. Yup, Clive fucked up, and he was gon’ pay us back one way or another.