5. Warren ‘Wolf’ Bennett #2
“Bitch ass nigga, that’s my mama! That is my business, and I’ll stay in it.
I been in ya’ll business since I was old enough to understand why she was crying in the first place.
You’re sorry man. The day she’s ready to walk away from you, Ima be the first motha fucka over there to help her pack her bags.
Do yourself a favor you clown and call your wife that you always claim to love so much and wish her a happy anniversary!
” I had nothing left to say to him, so I hung up the phone on him.
I was angry. The kind of angry where as I was driving, a few times I had to catch myself because I was on this highway, damn near flying.
You would think that after all these years, the nigga would finally get it, and start appreciating his wife, and respecting her a little more. That wasn’t the case though.
With age, I felt like he was only getting worse.
That’s why I truly believed that a woman was supposed to leave a man the first time that his ass cheats on her.
Fuck all that going to therapy bullshit, working through it, and all the other performative shit that comes after a man cheats.
The second you forgive a nigga for cheating on you, you showed your hand, showing that nigga that you’re willing to tolerate a lot of shit.
My mama allowed him to get away with years’ worth of cheating, and that’s why he wasn’t going to ever slow down.
She’s already proven to him that she was comfortable with him disrespecting her, so he was going to keep doing it.
I didn’t bother calling my mom back. It was useless.
She wasn’t going to feel where I was coming from.
I’m sure whatever pussy he was laid up in right now, he was going to quickly crawl out of it, and make his way to the stores, so that he could pick up some pricy gifts for my mom.
He was going to come to the crib, bearing a bunch of gifts, walk in with her favorite flowers and shit, while telling her a bunch of lies about where he’s been, and saying whatever sounded good to overpower the fact that he had forgotten that it was their anniversary.
I knew how that shit went with them, and that’s why I didn’t call back. I continued in my drive, and before I knew it, I was pulling up to the service area at Range Rover.
The area that I pulled into was covered, sitting right outside the service department.
There were a couple of workers standing out here, directing me where to pull the loaner.
I parked where they told me, stepped out of the car, and one of the advisors approached me, holding a tablet in her hands.
I quickly let her know that I was returning the loaner and picking up my car.
She told me to go ahead inside, and that’s what I did.
Because it was late in the evening, there weren’t many people inside.
I only saw one older man waiting. I headed for the cashier area, so that I could let them know that I was here.
The second I turned the corner, someone was rounding the corner as well, walking with her head down, eyes clued to her phone, causing us to crash right into each other.
The crash made her phone fall out of her hands and hit the ground.
She sucked her teeth, and you could tell that she was getting ready to talk shit, but when she saw that it was me standing here, her face softened a little bit.
All that tough girl, shit talking that she was about to do came to a halt.
It was the dancer from the club. Poison. The one that put all that ass in my lap, grinded on my dick, and walked away twenty bands richer. I blessed her ass that night and made that money back over a hundred times already.
Because I was a gentlemen, I bent down, picking her phone up, and handed it back to her.
She looked different. Not in a bad way though.
Last time I saw her, she barely had any clothes on.
Tonight, she was fully covered, and that’s why she looked different.
Behind all that sexy shit that she brought to the table, I still was able to see something so innocent about her when I looked at her. I think it was those big ass eyes.
She was so beautiful to me, and everyone else.
“Thank you,” she said, once the phone was in her hand, and she stuffed it into the back pocket of the jeans that she was wearing.
“You good,” I was casual about it.
I could sense that something was off about her.
When I saw her back at the club, she exuded that bad bitch energy, and you could tell that she was happy that day.
I didn’t know her well enough to make any kind of speculations, but I could tell that something was bothering her.
I wasn’t going to speak on it though. Didn’t want her to feel like a nigga was trying to get all in her business.
She was looking at me in a way like she was trying to read me and see if I was going to say anything else to her.
I didn’t though. I cut by her and made my way over to the cashiers.
I let them know that I was here to pick up my car.
I signed some of the paperwork, and they told me to go ahead, and sit in the drop-off/ pick up area, telling me that my car would be out shortly.
I made my way over, and when I did, I could see Poison from behind.
She was standing up, with that phone still in her hand.
Her head was down, looking at something in it.
Even with her fully clothed, that view of her from behind was the best view.
I don’t think I’ve ever seen an ass sit up that perfect in a pair of jeans.
She had a lot of ass, but I could tell it was natural.
That shit was in my lap. I felt it. It felt like straight Jell-O.
Plus, she had those thick ass thighs, and legs to match the ass.
She wore a navy-blue crop top to go with the jeans.
Her look was simple, but I liked it. I liked the way she had her hair styled.
The top was in a ponytail, but the back was hanging down.
As I was walking in her direction, it’s as if she could feel me making my way over to her because she turned around. She looked me up and down and sighed.
“It’s looking like you’re following me,” she said to me.
Her voice was neutral. She didn’t sound like she was playing, but she also didn’t sound like she was being serious with me, either.
“I ain’t one of your crazy ass fans. We can start with that,” I let her know, looking her in her eyes, as I stood a few feet away from her.
“I said you were a fan?” she asked me.
“You implied it by saying that I was following you. We only bumped into each other a few minutes ago because you were giving your phone too much attention and not paying attention to your surroundings. Now, here we are again in the same space by coincidence. I’m just here to pick my car up and go on about my business.
I’m going to assume that you’re here to do the same thing,” I shot.
“Mmm,” was all she said, taking her eyes off me, so that she could look at her phone again, and then she looked out, seeing a Tesla that was pulling up into the car pick up area.
When I saw her look back at her phone, and then her eyes went for the license plate, reading it, and then comparing it to what was on her screen, I knew then that she’d ordered an Uber. She was standing out here, waiting for an Uber to pick her up.
The driver had the window down. She was too busy trying to make sure that his license plate matched the one on the app, that she didn’t peep the way this nigga was lustfully staring back at her.
He was staring at her in a lustful manner like how them niggas had been doing it at the club.
Licking his lips, and his eyes looked to have been in a trance, as he glared at her.
I didn’t like that shit. I think it was the protector in me that didn’t like that she was about to get in the car with him.
You could tell that the license plate matched because she was about to head in the direction of his car, but I cleared my throat.
“You know that nigga?” I asked, just to make sure that my suspicions were right about her getting in an Uber with him.
“I don’t. That’s my Uber driver,” she confirmed what I already knew was taking place here.
“Cancel that shit, and order another one,” I was bold in my statement.
She looked at me like I was crazy, while cocking her head to the side.
“Nigga what? Cancel it for what? I’m trying to go home. I’ve been at this dealership for the past two hours, going at it with these people about my car, and it’s still not ready,” she went on to say.
“Man, I ain’t trying to hear all that. Cancel this ride, and order another one,” I demanded.
“Why the fuck would I cancel the ride and it’s already here?” she screamed at me.
She was annoyed. It was obvious. I picked up on her energy when we bumped into each other. The fact that I was standing here, telling her to cancel her ride, I’m sure that I wasn’t making it any better. I wasn’t doing anything but annoying her even more.
“I don’t like the way that nigga looking at you. It’s on my conscious now. I already saw it. Something happen to you, now I gotta live with the fact of knowing that I saw the way he was looking at you, and I didn’t do anything about it,” I told her.