Boiling Point #3
Her silver floss covered her nipples and her pussy, but everything else was out, including a blue rose and Royce on her asscheek–the compromise they reached when she said she wanted her rose since she earned her stripes.
As niggas and bitches alike threw money on the stage while she went through her routine, one would think she’d healed from her ordeal. She flipped the script, owning her sex appeal and profiting off it, with muthafuckas looking all they want, but never being able to touch.
I knew better.
A bandaid on a gunshot wound.
Like Fredo fucking the same bitches who would call him gay behind his back.
Like Turk pouring all his money into a strip club he somehow bought off the First Nations after he found out Haze was dancing here.
Like me shipping off to the Marines.
Haze was still in that boiler room in Tower Four, trying to keep Kilo from taking some shit he had no business taking.
Fredo was still in that top floor, holding a gun to the first man he ever loved, because he plotted against his family.
Turk was still holding his mangled arm, trying to keep Kilo’s gun aimed at him and not Haze.
I was still in Remy’s van, bleeding out as I drove us all to a hospital out of town, where no one knew who we were and what we did to make it out alive.
Haze ended her routine dropping down the pole, flipping into a split. Fredo had to hold Turk back when a nigga pulled her floss back to put a big ass knot in between, but it helped that she just winked and flounced off to the back as the other girls collected all her money in bags.
The one thing that did work in here were the cameras, but Turk still went and got all her money so Haze wouldn’t go upside anyone’s head. Another habit she picked up was fighting at the drop of a hat, and she was undefeated in that category.
If Ty-Ty wasn’t still salty about her not defending him, I’m sure he would have had her in his underground fighting rings.
The song switched to Meek Mill late as hell, with Sean telling Turk sorry on the mic, but the lull was long enough to hear an obnoxious laugh behind me.
I turned my head, and cursed under my breath.
Two years, I managed to avoid Wynter. This was the second time that day I was seeing her ass.
It had to have been a sign.
I got out my phone and responded to a girl who been wanting to swallow me whole. I wasn’t about to sit side by side all night hearing that fuck ass laugh.
She responded immediately with a picture of her pussy, so I hopped up, dapping up the bros as Autumn slid into our section, wearing something that kinda covered her up more.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and brought her lips to my ear.
“Where yo punk ass going?”
I smiled and pinched her side, making her squeal.
“I gotta go see a squirrel about a nut. Yo new routine fire. You straight?”
I leaned back to gauge her reaction. With her heels, she was eye level with me.
“Yeah. Turkey’s staying over. He wanna run some new business venture by me tomorrow, like our hands not already full with this shit.”
“Stall my bro out. You know he tryna build a nest egg for y’all.”
She rolled her eyes and playfully pushed me toward the exit. “I wanna see you before the party, Rico.”
I nodded, and gestured that I would text her before making my way out the club.
Eyes forward until I passed the section, then scanning the room for anyone who could be on that bullshit, though after we took over the Birch Babies, muthafuckas were downright terrified of Foe Dub.
If we could go through our own gang like we did and snuff them out, then no one in the city was off limits.
Last year, Peanut held another Tryout. G, Slime, Pookie, and Fade were among those standing, and them niggas were downright bloodthirsty, too.
I was leaving the streets in my prime, but I knew the streets would be there when I got back. Still, I’d miss it.
The air was crisp when I made it out the building. I drove, just in case, but Fredo was with family, so they’d make sure he would get home if he didn’t go home with a stripper.
“Heyyy Luney.”
I shifted my gaze to the woman licking her lips suggestively at me. I’d never hit before, but I wasn’t surprised she knew me. She was cute, slim thick, with a long ass weave.
The girl next to her though. Of course I fucked up by looking at her.
Her black corset looked painted on, pushing up titties she ain’t even have. The high waisted distressed shorts did the same thing to her ass. She had the same boots she had on earlier, and her freckles were covered still, by makeup and these big ass sunglasses.
I nodded, though only her friend grinned at me. Once they passed me, and I could look into Wynter’s eyes, she was looking straight ahead.
Her expression never changed.
She just kept walking away.
I didn’t realize I stopped walking until she was inside.
After years of ignoring her, it didn’t occur to me that she was ignoring me back.
I didn’t know how to feel about it, but once my dick couldn’t stay hard, and I had to go home unsatisfied, I decided to be pissed off.
I decided she’d have to see me before I left.