CHAPTER NINETEEN #2
Sosa tilted his head, a cold smile spreading across his face. "I am. And I hear you over here running yo' mouth like a bitch,"
"I wasn't—"
"Nah, nah, don't do that." Sosa stepped closer, and Rylo took a small step back. "You was just talking real greasy, right? You just said she a fuck doll, right?" His voice was calm, but there was a edge to it that made my skin prickle. "Say that shit again."
Rylo opened his mouth but nothing came out.
"That's what I thought." Sosa laughed, but it wasn't friendly. "You a real tough guy when it's just you and a female, huh? But now you quiet as a mouse."
"Man, I ain't got no beef with you—"
"But you acting like you got beef with her, and she mine. So that mean you got beef with me." Sosa stepped even closer, now directly in Rylo face. Rylo was maybe 5'9, skinny. Sosa was 6'2, solid, and the way he was looking at Rylo made it clear he wasn't playing with his bitch ass.
"What you drive here, lil nigga?"
"What?" Rylo looked confused.
"What. You. Drive." Sosa repeated slowly, like he was talking to a child. "That white Charger outside? The one with the Enterprise sticker on the back?"
My eyes went wide, and I looked out the window. Sure enough, there was a white Dodge Charger with an Enterprise rental sticker barely peeled off the bumper.
"Yo, you ain't even driving your own car!" I burst out laughing.
"You fucking bum, out here in a rental talking shit?!"
Morgan looked embarrassed as hell, looking down at her feet.
Sosa shook his head. "This nigga in a rental.
A fucking Dodge Charger rental." He pointed toward his Lamborghini.
"You see that, That's a two-hundred-fifty thousand dollar truck.
I own that. You don't own shit. You out here playing dress up in fake designer clothes, renting cars, scamming credit cards like a fucking loser. "
"Man, you don't know shit about me—"
"I know everything about you. Mufucka," Sosa cut him off, his voice dropping lower, more menacing. "I know you don’t own shit, don’t got shit, and I know you owe Pee-Wee and them from the low end, six bands that you ain't got. You want me to keep going?" Rylo face went pale.
"You a nobody. A fucking nobody playing gangster with other people money. You ain't got no motion, no real paper, no nothing. You a leech."
"Sosa, baby, c’mon, he ain't worth it," I said, loving every second of this but also not wanting my man to catch a case over this bum.
"Nah, I want him to understand something.
" Sosa grabbed Rylo by the front of his shirt, yanking him close.
Rylo let out a little gasp, his hands coming up but not actually trying to fight back.
"If I ever and I mean EVER, hear you say or said some shit about my girl again, I'ma find you. And when I find you, I’m gon give yo’ mama a reason to where black and fry fish. You feel me?"
"Y-yeah, man, I understand—"
"I didn't hear you." Sosa shook him a little.
"I understand! I understand!"
Sosa let him go, and Rylo stumbled back, almost falling over. He looked scared as shit, and his tough guy role completely evaporated. Morgan grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away.
"Come on, baby, let's just go—"
"Yeah, take yo' broke ass nigga and get the fuck on," I said, laughing.
Sosa pulled out a thick ass stack of hundreds, all bound together with a rubber band. He peeled off ten of them, a thousand dollars and held it out to Rylo.
"Here," Sosa said.
Rylo looked confused. "What?"
"Take it. You clearly need it more than I do." Sosa shoved the money toward him. "Go pay Pee-Wee and them before they come looking for you." Rylo face turned red with humiliation but he didn't take the money.
"Nah? You too proud?" Sosa laughed and threw the cash on the ground at Rylo feet.
"There you go. Pick that shit up, broke ass nigga. I know you want too,"
"Sosa, can you just stop," Morgan said, her voice shaky. "We leaving."
"Yeah, y'all should leave before I really get disrespectful," Sosa said. Then he looked at Morgan. "And you a hoe ass bitch for fucking over your friend like that. Y'all deserve each other. Two garbage ass mufuckas."
Morgan looked like she wanted to cry. She grabbed Rylo arm and pulled him toward the exit. Rylo was walking fast, his head down, not saying shit. The money Sosa threw on the ground stayed there, neither of them picked it up.
As soon as they was out the door, I jumped on Sosa, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him hard, my tongue in his mouth, not giving a fuck who was watching.
"Oh my God, baby, you just fucking treated the shit outta him!" I was damn near screaming with excitement. "You made his clown ass look so fucking stupid!"
Sosa grinned against my lips. "You thought I was gon' let him talk to you like that?"
"I love you so much right now."
"You better." He slapped my ass, and I squealed. "Now come on, let's finish getting you your car so we can get the fuck up outta here."
Marqueez walked over, smiling nervously. "Uh, Mr. Maddox, we ready whenever y'all are."
"Yeah, let's wrap this up," Sosa said, keeping his arm around my waist.
I looked back one more time and saw the money still on the floor.
One of the employees was picking it up, looking around confused.
I couldn't stop smiling. Sosa ain't just check Rylo, he fucking bodied him. He made him look weak, broke, and stupid in front of everybody. And I got to watch the whole thing. And I’m not gon lie, seeing my nigga flex on him, was one of the best moments of my life.
* * *
We got back to the crib around 3 PM, and I was still on cloud nine.
Sosa had signed all the paperwork for my new car.
I chose a white Mercedes G-Wagon with red leather interior.
It was sitting in the garage right now, and I swear I kept looking at it every five minutes just to make sure it was real.
But Sosa had other plans as soon as we walked through the door.
He grabbed me by my waist, pulling me into him, his lips on my neck. "You know you gotta thank me properly, right?"
I giggled, feeling his hands sliding down to my ass. "Oh, I gotta thank you?"
"Yeah, you do." He picked me up, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me upstairs to our bedroom.
We ain't even make it fully on the bed before he was pulling my clothes off, his mouth on my skin, his hands everywhere. I was still riding that high from earlier, from him punking Rylo, from the new car, from feeling like I had a nigga who really loved me and would do anything for me.
The sex was intense. He had me face down, ass up, gripping the sheets, damn near screaming his name. He was talking his shit too, telling me how much he loved me, how I was his, how he'd do anything for me. And I believed every word.
After we finished, we laid there for a minute, both of us catching our breath. He kissed my shoulder, then got up and headed to the bathroom. I heard the shower turn on a few minutes later.
I stayed in bed, scrolling through my phone, texting Mya about the car and what happened with Rylo. She was hyping me up in the messages, telling me how lucky I was to have a nigga like Sosa.
About fifteen minutes later, Sosa came out the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, water still dripping from his dreads. He walked over to the closet and started getting dressed.
"Where you going?" I asked, sitting up.
"I gotta handle something real quick. I'll be back in a few hours."
"What you gotta handle?"
"Business, baby. Don't worry about it." He leaned down and kissed me.
"You good?"
"Yeah, I'm good."
"A'ight. I love you."
"I love you too."
He grabbed his keys off the dresser, his wallet, and one of his phones, he always had two, one for personal shit and one for business. Then he left.
I heard the front door close a few minutes later, then the sound of his car starting up and pulling out the driveway.
I laid back down, staring at the ceiling, smiling to myself. Today had been damn near perfect.
But then I heard a phone ringing. I frowned, sitting up. It wasn't my phone, mine was right next to me, and it wasn't ringing. I looked around the room and saw Sosa other phone on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a call.
The name on the screen said Sheree. Why the fuck was she calling again?
The call went to voicemail, and I just stared at the phone, my heart starting to race. I knew I shouldn't look. I knew I should just leave it alone and ask Sosa about it later. But something in my gut was telling me to pick it up.
The phone buzzed again, this time with a text message. I reached over and grabbed it, my hands shaking a little bit. The text was from Sheree.
"I’ve been calling you and calling you. Let me find out you acting funny after I just sucked yo' dick. Fuck you Sosa."
I felt like I couldn't breathe.
I read the message again, and again, hoping I was seeing it wrong, hoping it said something else. But it didn't. It said exactly what I thought it said.
After I just sucked yo' dick.
My vision started to blur, tears filling my eyes. My chest felt tight, like somebody was standing on it. I couldn't move. I just sat there, staring at the phone, the words burning into my brain. He cheated on me, I mean he really fucking cheated on me.
The nigga who just bought me a car, who just defended me in front of my ex, who just fucked me and told me he loved me, he was out here getting his dick sucked by this bitch Sheree.
I felt my hands start to shake, anger bubbling up inside me, mixing with the hurt. Before I even realized what I was doing, I pressed the call button next to Sheree name.
It rang twice before she picked up.
"Took you long enough to call me back," she said, her voice sassy as fuck. "You really gon' ignore me after I—"
"This ain't Sosa," I said, my voice cold.
There was a pause.
"Who the fuck is this?" Sheree asked.
"This is Yah-Yah. His woman. And I just read yo' little text message."
Another pause, then she laughed.
"Oh, so you his woman now?" she said, her tone dripping with disrespect. "That's cute."
"Bitch, did you just say cute?"