Chapter 20 #6
I giggled as I closed my car door. I stuck my arm into my jacket and faced my friend.
Bella was so damn pretty. She didn’t have an ounce of melanin in her, but one wouldn’t know that with her mannerisms and lingo.
She was my favorite white sista, but calling her white did nothing but rile her up.
She identified as Italrish: Italian and Irish. I didn’t even know that was a thing.
“He fine as hell, friend, I will give him that. I don’t even do light-skinned. He could get it, though.”
We both stood in the yard watching P jog across the street.
The sun was beaming down on us, but where we were going, I’d need the jacket.
P hit the locks on a black Jeep Wrangler sitting on huge tires.
When he pulled in and reversed, the red brake lights were not as vibrant as the shiny paint job.
I gave a silent nod of approval for his choice of car.
“You sure you doing this?” Bella turned my shoulders so that we would be forehead to forehead. Her greenish, brown eyes stared through mine, and I nodded with knowing.
“I’m sure. P’s cute.”
“P’s fine. But so is Grind.”
“Grind has too much going on, Bella.”
She sighed. “He does.”
“Yeap.”
“If my cousin deals with P, you know what that means, right? He’s in the streets. Plus, look at him. Jewelry, swag, Jeep… He ain’t no broke nigga, and he don’t have the mannerisms of a spoiled one. He’s a street nigga, Pearla. You ready for that again?”
“Everyone around us is in the streets, Bella. It’s probably better that way. I don’t think it would make sense to not deal with boys in the streets. How can we bring a regular dude around all this?” My arms waved in the air before flopping to my side.
Bella let my shoulders go. “You know I’m with you with whatever. Mahzeyah, too, and from the looks of it, Blayke and Glee, too, now.” She rolled her eyes.
Bella liked the girls but had put out some stank energy when they first came around. She was territorial as heck. We learned quickly, though, that so was Blayke. Again, those two were so alike that it was scary. Mahzeyah said that Glee and I were alike, too, so the group was even more balanced now.
Bella gave me a once-over before conceding. P was parked on the curb, waiting. He hopped out of the truck, opened the passenger door, and then the back seat.
“Ohhh… The liquor man is a gentleman.” Bella climbed in the back. “And it don’t smell like roaches or nothiiiiing in here.”
Her door closed, leaving me standing on the curb.
“You still got time to take them shots.” P rubbed his beard before pulling at his pants near his crotch.
I knew it wasn’t a sexual thing but more so something men just did.
My brother and Don had done it several times when talking to their wives.
Nel had done it with Pia, too, and Italian when he was running after Mahzeyah.
Walking past P, I grabbed onto the door and hoisted myself up. “Let’s go.”
He closed the door behind me and walked around the back.
Looking through the rearview mirror, I could see Bella staring at me, still apprehensive.
Blinking, I looked off. P climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled his phone and some money from his pockets.
He threw both in the cup holders and shifted the gear, pulling out of the townhouse driveway.
His truck smelled like the black cherry scent that most guys had in their cars.
His seats were smooth leather, and the interior was clean.
He took good care of his truck, if it was his.
“This yours?” Bella asked the question before I could.
“Yeah.”
“How much the note on this running you every month?”
Ole lord, Bella.
He chuckled sexily. “Nothin’.”
“Hmm…” was Bella’s reply.
“It’s nice,” I complimented.
“’Preciate it. Where we headed?”
Turning in my seat, I eyed P. “So just like that, you ready to pull down?”
“Shit, why not? I want you, Pearla. So if we gotta pull up on that nigga and tell him it’s a wrap, I’m for it.”
“What if I’m bringing you to a setup?”
A chortle escaped P’s slightly discolored lips. “I ain’t worried ’bout it. Where we going?”
“Period. Mr. P said he ain’t never scared.”
“Here.” P grabbed his phone and handed it to me. “Plug in the address.”
Looking down at his hand, I noticed in addition to the phone that he threw in the cup holder, there were two more phones resting in the dashboard tray.
“Three phones?” I pointed out.
His eyes never left the road, nor did he blink. “Yeah. It’s a work thing.”
“What type of work you do to where you need three phones?” Bella called from the back seat.
“I do bodywork.”
“Like… who did the body? You work at a funeral home?” I asked.
He chuckled. “Sum’n like that. Here.” He was still holding the phone in my direction, but his eyes were on me now.
Instead of taking it, I pulled the seat belt across my body and turned away from him. “You know how to get to Jagoda One?”
“The hospital?” He drew his head back.
“Yeap.” I clicked my seat belt. “That’s where we going.”
“Why we at the hospital?”
P, Bella, and I stood in the parking lot of Jagoda One.
The ride was a quiet one with only the bass from the music P was blasting, which ironically had been Reaper, Grind’s deceased rap friend.
It wasn’t a shock, though, because Jagoda Bay loved Reaper’s music.
Had he not been killed, he would have had the city on lock by now.
The day I went down the Reaper rabbit hole, thinking Grind had been his killer after discovering the contents in his backpack, I was put onto his music, turning me into somewhat of a fan.
P was rapping every song word for word, causing the tension in the car to thicken.
I sighed, not answering him. “Come on.”
We all began to walk ahead, and before we got through the doors, Bella grabbed my hand.
“Not yo’ new nigga rapping to yo’ coma nigga’s lyrics.”
“Bella, please…” I scoffed.
I hated that I told Bella and Mahzeyah about Grind writing lyrics for Reaper.
Mahzeyah already knew that Grind could write because on the day in the studio, he had written a few songs for Flexer.
Rappers weren’t ashamed to use writers these days.
If I had been an artist, my ghostwriter would stay a ghost. Flexer could rap, though.
I’d seen plenty of his old freestyles. I guess he just wanted something fresh, and according to Mahzeyah, during her and Flexer’s pillow talk, Grind was the best writer for rap, but he didn’t like to take on clients.
Flexer was the first to get him to break since Reaper’s death, and he told Mahzeyah to thank me.
I didn’t understand why—Grind working with him had nothing to do with me.
Swallowing hard, I caught up to P’s long-legged ass and fell in stride.
Bella kept a few paces behind us, I guess to give the situation some space.
We entered the lobby, bypassing the receptionist. I didn’t have to check-in.
My brother and cousin had the entire wing upstairs bought out.
P was looking around, curious as fuck as to why I brought him here, but I appreciated him not asking questions.
He’d see since we were here now, and it was no turning back.
We rounded the corner, and I stopped on my heels. A hard body crashed into me, and before I could fall forward, P’s arm wrapped around my waist to hold me upright.
“My bad. You good?” he said.
I nodded, although I was mad that I couldn’t relish how good it felt to be this close to a boy because I was stuck on the scene in front of me.
Grind’s mama had her arms folded while six girls stood on the opposite side of her.
One person, the ringleader, in pants so tight I could see the thread stretching, talked a mile a minute.
Kaylee noticed me immediately. She looked from me to P, who still had his arm around my waist, to Bella.
She smirked and went back to looking at the person talking.
I knew that hourglass shape from anywhere.
Her long, black weave damn near went to her knees.
“I don’t know what to tell you, Kaylee. But I gotta go. You take care,” Shus told her.
She walked around Kaylee, leaving her standing with her friends, and came toward me.
“Heyyyy, baby boo!” Gracious stopped in front of us.
Like the first time I’d met her, she looked like she was around our age in a black Lululemon athletic set, which featured a tank top with a sweatshirt tied around her waist and Jordans on her feet.
Her eyes went from me to P’s arms that were wrapped around my waist. He let me go, and the hardness that was pressed against my back disappeared.
She swallowed me in a hug, one that I needed as I closed my eyes and inhaled.
Shus had become something like a friend to me these last few months.
We talked weekly, and I appreciated her not bringing up Grind during those conversations.
She was a mess that I loved so much. I’d missed a few of her calls because, some days, I just wanted to be left alone, but it was all love, and I knew that she knew that.
“I wasn’t expecting you today. Hey, Bella,” she spoke to Bella quickly and was back on me.
I’d told her all about my friends, and she had met them on FaceTime. When Shus and I did talk, we usually gossiped about the music industry and trendy things on TikTok. She was my girl when I was in the headspace to talk to her.
“Hey, boo. You look cute,” Bella complimented.
“Thanks, y’all do too—”
“Really! You dismiss me for this fat bitch!” Kaylee stood at the head of her crew, who all looked busted up in comparison to her, yelling.
While she was looking like a slut, her jean shorts were cute, swallowing her thighs, hips, and ass. Her crop top, that her breasts were spilling out of, worked for her because she had the body. With her long nails, she tossed her black tresses behind her shoulder.