14. Dominique ‘Dolo’ Shaw #3
“I said I’m not telling you. Figure it out Dominique,” she was cold with that shit.
No lie, hearing her call me Dominique made my dick jump. Girls really didn’t call me that shit. Family did. When I was seconds away from pissing any of the women off in the family, they would be quick to call me by my government name, but that was it. She did that shit so smoothly too.
“Yeah, okay. Don’t leave out tonight with Mitch. I got some more moves to make, and then I’ll come back and get you, so I can take you home, aight?” I asked.
“I don’t like that idea. I feel like I’m going to look like the girl that’s fuckin the boss, and that’s the only reason why I’m moving up in the company,” she said, and that shit made me laugh.
“You going to get moved up in the company because your sharp. I like your mind. I like the way you think. You didn’t give me vibes that you give a fuck what other people gotta say about you. Why you care if they think that we fuckin? What’s wrong with that?” I asked, genuinely wanting to know.
Like her ass didn’t hear me, she waved me off, moving away from me, so that she could get back to work. I stood back smiling, watching her, and when I started feeling like she was making my ass look goofy, I picked up my feet, so that I could move.
I let her know again that I would be back for her, and that she didn’t have to ride with Mitch. She said okay, so hopefully her hardheaded ass listened.
I left her right there, and I walked out.
I handled a few things upstairs in my office, and then I completely left the warehouse altogether.
Riot had me paranoid now, feeling like I might have had someone working up under me that was getting high off the supply, or I had someone that was stealing from me.
With that in mind, as I drove around, combing the streets, keeping the volume turned down low in the car, I wanted to check all my stash houses, and my corners.
I just wanted to randomly pop up on niggas just to see what they were up to.
I could handle someone on the outside crossing me because a nigga that’s on the outside didn’t owe you any kind of loyalty.
If I had someone inside my camp that was stealing from me, that was going to be a slow, painful death on their end.
I kept thinking about the shit, and none of my workers would be able to shortcut the bag up like that.
It was impossible, especially with Kendrick, Bray, or Mook standing over them, watching them niggas every move.
I never felt the need to keep cameras in the product room.
I didn’t do that because if shit ever hit the fan, and the feds came knocking, the footage in the product room would be enough to have me, and everyone inside my organization buried under the prison.
Knowing that, I never added cameras inside that specific room.
Because I didn’t want to point the finger at anyone, and I didn’t want to start making wild accusations, accusing niggas of shit that they weren’t doing, I had to play that shit cool, set up a camera in that bitch, where I was the only one that was going to have some kind of access to it, so that I could get down to the bottom of things, and see what the fuck was going on.
I didn’t come back for Riot until about two in the morning.
That was the time that shit wrapped up at the warehouse.
I thought she was going to talk shit about getting in the car with me, but she didn’t.
She got inside with me, laid the seat back a little bit, and during the ride to her crib, she kept attempting to dose off, but she never did.
I asked her little shit during the ride, wanting to know how the workday went, and she told me.
Before I knew it, we were pulling up to the townhouse.
I had to piss, but I didn’t want to ask her if I could come inside because I didn’t want her thinking that I was trying to be slick, and come up, so that I could fuck.
The way this piss was itching to get out, I was about to fuck around, open the door, and just handle my business out here.
“I gotta piss. Hold on,” I said, opening the door.
“You going to do it out here? Just come inside with me. My cousin isn’t home. She’s at work. Come on,” she let out, shocking me because I just knew that she was going to tell me to kick rocks, and that I couldn’t come inside with her.
I grabbed everything that I needed, and I stepped out of the car, following her over to the door.
She used the key that she had, granting us entry inside, and she turned the knob to open it.
I pushed the door at the top, so that I could still open it for her, even though she was in front of me.
She handled the alarm that was posted on the wall, and I watched her kick off her sneakers, pick them up, and I followed behind her, doing the same thing.
“You can use mine. It’s upstairs,” she said, leading the way.
I followed behind her as she took the stairs up, and once we reached the top, she rounded a corner, and we were walking into her bedroom. It was nice and clean, with a queen-sized bed sitting in the middle of the room.
She pointed with her finger, showing me where her bathroom was, and I sat my shoes down on the carpeted floor, and I went into the bathroom.
Just like her bedroom, her bathroom was squeaky clean.
I removed my gun from my waist, sat it down on the bathroom counter, and I handled my business at the toilet.
I flushed, put her toilet seat back down, and I went over to the sink, so that I could wash my hands.
I carried my gun with me out of the bathroom, and I sat it down on her dresser, watching her as she moved around the room, pulling clothes out of her dresser.
“I feel dirty. I’ve been in that warehouse for hours. You don’t have to leave, but I want to take a shower,” she let me know.
“Go ahead. Handle your business,” I said, and she walked out of the room, so that she could do that.
Knowing that I was getting ready to stay for a while, I walked over to her bedroom door, and I closed it. I locked that shit too. I didn’t want to sit on her bed in my outside clothes, so I chose to take a seat on the ottoman, that was in front of the bed.
From where I sat, I could look over at her chest, and there were pictures in frames.
I studied the picture with her, and her pops.
Riot looked to have been no older than two years old on that picture.
Her pops was sitting down, flashing a mouth full of gold teeth, and Riot had her head tucked up under his arm, and she was mugging.
She was such a pretty baby. She would still sport that mug too.
After that, I looked at the picture of her and her brother.
I’ve never seen Riot smile that big before.
She obviously loved that nigga. They looked so much alike too.
Knowing that she lost her pops, and her brother, I swear it made you understand her just a little bit more, and it made sense why she didn’t always walk around with a smile on her face.
My pops and I had our moments when we clashed, and at one point, we went awhile without speaking to each other, but I would lose my mind if something happened to him.
Man, if something were to ever happen to my brother too, I promise I would bleed the whole Miami red behind that.
I looked around her room, and it wasn’t girly, but it was clean.
Too clean. Almost like her ass had OCD or some shit.
I was used to being inside a woman’s bedroom, and she would have that sparkly headboard and dresser set, but Riot didn’t have that.
She had a plain white headboard and dresser.
Her bed was freshly made, and there wasn’t anything too spectacular about her room.
I noticed that she had a remote for the TV sitting on the dresser, so I grabbed it, turned the TV on, and I put on sports.
Riot didn’t come out of the bathroom until another thirty minutes.
Seeing how wet, and curly her hair was, I knew that she washed it in the shower, and that explained why she’d taken so long.
This girl was straight pressure, and she wasn’t trying to be.
She didn’t even come out of the bathroom in anything sexy.
Just a tank top, and I could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra, and a pair of black cotton material shorts. She smelled good as fuck.
There was a good distance between us, and from where I was sitting, I could smell whatever she used to shower with and wash her hair.
“You and your brother look like twins,” I told her, as she walked over, and she took a seat on the bed.
She was more so on the side of me, pulling her legs up, so that she could sit Indian style.
The sound of her brother caused just a small smile to form on her face.
“Yeah. That was my baby. I loved him so much. I don’t think I’ve ever loved someone the way that I loved my brother,” she said some real shit to me, sounding like how I would whenever I would speak on Diego.
“I can tell by the way you smiling in that picture that you loved him. I ain’t ever see you smile that big,” I told her, and that got a little smile out of her, but I’m sure she only smiled because she was thinking about her brother.
Before I could say anything else to her, my phone started vibrating.
It fucked me up because I never willingly leave my phone sitting face upwards whenever I’m around a woman.
Not because I felt like I owed her something, but mainly because I didn’t need them jumping down my throat, trying to check me about a bitch that was calling me.