Retribution (34 page)

“Hey,” she says, stepping inside. “It's good to see you.” I pull the door tight behind her, willing myself from yanking her by her long blonde weave and swinging her face right through this motherfucking glass window.

I glare at her. “Bitch, this
isn't
a social call.” I slam both hands up on my hips. “All I wanna know is, did you
fuck
Jasper?”

The day of reckoning comes when a two-faced bitch finally gets knocked on her back!

“What?” Felecia scowls.

“Bitch,
I didn't stutter. Did
you
let Jasper run his dick up in you?”

She shuffles her weight from one heel-clad foot to the other; shifting her Michael Kors bag over to her right hand as she glances around the salon. Doing everything possible to avert my glare. But the bitch can't hide. And there's no running. Not this time. She needs to own her shit; admit the fuck what she's done. So we can move on.

I eye her as she pulls in a breath. She looks at me. Calmly states, “No, Pasha. I didn't
sleep
with Jasper, if that's what you're so worried about.” She doesn't bat an eye when she says this. Doesn't even flinch. Still, after all the lies I've told, after all the things I've tried to cover up, I
know
when a bitch is lying.

“Bitch,” I sneer, shooting her an icy-glare, “be clear.
That's
not what the fuck I'm so worried about.”

She frowns. “Then why are you even asking me about it then? And why the hell would you listen to shit some low-budget ghetto bitch would tell you? You let that bitch get all up in your ear and got
you
turning your back on
me.”

I
tsk
. “No, hun. Get it right.
You
let Jasper's dick get all up in
your guts and got
you
standing here lying to me. So save it. You're a lying,
sneaky,
conniving bitch.”

She huffs. “Look, Pasha, I didn't come here to fight with you. But it's obvious that's what you have in mind.”

“Well, I
know
you didn't come here expecting me to roll out the red carpet for your snake-ass and offer up a tea party. So why the fuck are you here?”

“Because you called
me.
And I was
hoping
we could talk this out like two mature, civilized adults. That we could work things out and not let all the bullshit going on right now come between us. But I see all you wanna do is hurl insults and point fingers.”

I hear Booty's instigating voice in my head saying,
“Oooh, Miss FeFe is so full of hot skunk shit. Greasy-ass nigga-bitch! Fish this messy bitch, Miss Pasha, girl. Then gut her ass real good.”

“Bitch, you let Jasper's dick come between us the day you spread open…” I take a deep breath. Bite down on my bottom lip. Remember my real purpose. Remind myself to stay on track. I rewind. Switch gears to reel this ho in. I stare at her. “You know what, Felecia, you're right. I did call you. We're family. And we've been through too much together to not be able to at least clear the air. I'm fucking pissed at you. I still love you. But I'm hurt that after
everything
we've been through, you can't even be honest with me.”

Her eyes quickly dart around the room again. “And,
I'm
hurt that you'd believe some ghetto-trash
bitch
like Cassandra over
me
—your flesh and blood.”

Blah, blah, blah…bitch, please!

I feign a pained smile, placing my left hand in back of me, feeling along the small of my back. “Then I guess we
both
have shit to get off our chests. C'mon, let's go into my office.” I drop my hands to my side, walking toward my office, smirking as she follows behind
me.
This dizzy bitch must really think I'm retarded.
I wait until she walks all the way inside my office, then shut the door and lock it.

“Have a seat.” I point to the two leather chairs that are normally positioned in front of my desk, but are now placed in the center of the room, facing each other.

Her eyes open wide, noticing the nearly empty space. “What happened to all your furniture?” The only furniture still in my large office is my mahogany desk, which I have pushed up against a wall. And matching bookshelf that is pressed up against one of the sidewalls, where it's always been. Everything else has been temporarily shifted over into the staff lounge.

I toss her a dismissive wave. “Oh, I had it all moved out. I'm having my office redone.”

“Oh,” is all she says as she pulls a chair back, and eases her ass onto the seat. She sets her bag on the carpeted floor beside her. I plant my chair directly in front of her, then sit.

I cross my legs, and tell her my reason for having us sit like this, face-to-face. “It's a face-off.” She blinks her eyes, giving me a confused look. “I have shit to say to you. And obviously you have some shit you want to say to me as well. All I want is the truth. So in order for me to trust that that's what I'm going to get, I want to be dead in your face, looking you in the eyes as we talk.” I widen my eyes for effect, then blink them twice, tilting my head. “So why don't you go, first, Felecia. Whatever you have to say to me, get it off your chest, now. And you can
start
by giving it to me raw and uncut. Tell the fucking truth.”

She shifts in her seat. “Okay. I don't appreciate how
you
fucking humiliated me in front of everyone. You had
no
fucking right to slap me in front of clients like that. You had
no
fucking right to fire me! And you had
no
fucking right to tell other salon owners
to not fucking hire me! Then you still block my unemployment claim! Who the fuck are
you
to fuck with my money, Pasha, huh?”

It takes everything in me to not leap up and knock her head back. I give her an incredulous look, gripping the sides of my chair to keep my ass planted in my seat.

“Bitch!” I snap. “And
you
had no fucking
right
to be talking shit about
me
behind
my
back. But you did, didn't you? Fucking dirty bitch! You wanna know who I fucking am? I'm the
bitch
who trusted you!
I'm
the bitch who loved you like a goddamn sister! I'm the bitch who gave
you
a motherfucking job! And paid
you
seventy-thousand-a-goddamn-year. That's
who
the fuck I am. I did that shit for you, Felecia.
For what?
So you can turn around and stab me in the motherfucking back?! Bitch, please!”

She blinks. Opens her mouth to speak, but I put a hand up in her face, shutting her ass down.

“So yeah, bitch, I blackballed your ass. I shut your shit all the waaaaay
fucking
down. You wanna work in another hair salon, sweetie, then you had better take your ass up to Bergen or Hudson county where bitches don't know you. Or drive your two-faced ass way down to the shore to work. Because—
unless
you plan on working in some white-owned salon or up in some home-based makeshift salon—you will
not
be working
any
where in this area. Not in a black-owned shop, that's for sure. You
think
you can talk about me, fuck my man, then turn around and smile all up in my goddamn face and
think
I'm gonna be good with it? You got me the fuck confused.”

Her chest starts heaving. Her nose spreads. Her eyes narrow to slits. I can tell she's ready to go off. And that's exactly what I want. “Yeah, go 'head and blow your stack,
bitch
. Let's see your true colors.”

“Look,
bitch!”
she screeches, leaning up in her chair, slamming a hand on her hip, snaking her neck and pointing her finger at me.
“I've been trying to keep my cool with you, trying to not bring it to you. But you keep testing me. You got shit you wanna say to me, then say it. You got shit you wanna ask me, then ask. But what you not gonna do is think I'm gonna keep sitting here and let you keep calling me all kinds of bitches and shit. For the last time,
bitch
, Jasper and I've never fucked! End of discussion! And if we did, so the fuck what! You have a lot of fucking nerve to sit there and call me out on shit, like you're so fucking perfect. Bitch, ain't shit perfect about you!

“But you always somewhere tryna act like you so much fucking better than me when
you're
the one who was out there sucking all kinds of different niggas' dicks in dark alleys and fucking abandoned buildings and wherever else you could go to drop down on your slutty-ass knees. So don't toss shit on me
unless
you're ready to toss it on yourself as well.”

I almost laugh. Almost.
There you go, bitch. All I have to do is keep pressing the right buttons. Tell me how you really feel!
I narrow my eyes.

I imagine Booty saying some shit like,
“Oooh, Miss Pasha, that messy bitch is really tryna do you, goddammit. Don't take it to her face, yet. Keep fishin' this bitch, sugah-boo. Gut that bitch when she least expects it.”

I uncross my legs, shifting back in my seat and crossing them at the ankle, folding my arms across my chest. “Bitch,” I calmly state. “I
never
said I was perfect, nor have I ever
thought
I was. Obviously, that's some of your shit, that's what
you
think.” I smirk. “You wanna talk about
my
dick sucking, then let's. Yeah, I
sucked
a whole lot of dick, sweetie…lots of it. And many of 'em I swallowed, okay. But I've
never
sucked a nigga's dick in an alley, abandoned building or any other shit. So get it right.”

She blinks, shifting in her seat. Her eyes flicker a hint of surprise by my candor.

“I
sucked
niggas outside in their cars.
Sucked
them in parks.
Sucked
them in parking garages.
Sucked
them in hotels and motels. I'm a slutty, dick-sucking whore, okay, who
sucked
every last one of them niggas to sleep. And
sucked
a few other niggas right out of their minds until they
stalked
me.

“And, yeah, bitch. I did it
all
behind Jasper's back. And why did I do it? I did it because that's what the fuck I wanted to do. I did it because I thought I could get away with it. Did I know there might be consequences? Yeah, I knew it. Did I care…
obviously
not because I kept on doing the shit. I made those choices. And I suffered the consequences for them. Now riddle me this, since we confessing our sins: “How many times did
you
suck Jasper's dick?”

She blinks, frowning. “W-w-what?”

“Mmmph. Here you go again stuttering again.” I stare into her, letting a silent pause eat through her skin. She starts to look slightly uncomfortable.
Good, bitch!
“Answer the question. How many times did you have your fucking greasy-ass lips wrapped around Jasper's dick? Speak now or forever hold your piece,
bitch,
because I promise you.
This
will be your
only
chance to make amends with me before I beat the fuck out of you. So you had better confess what the fuck you did.”

She jumps up from her seat, starts talking shit with her hands. “What?
Bitch,
are you fucking serious?! You're fucking going to sit there and threaten
me?
I'm not tryna fight you, bitch, but don't think I'm going to let you jump on me, either.”

“Felecia, admit it. You sucked Jasper's dick.
Why?
Because you're a jealous, hating-ass, miserable bitch who wishes she could be me.”

She huffs. “Oh, give me a fucking break, Pasha! You're fucking delusional, bitch, to think some shit like that. I don't wanna be you, or anything like
you!”

“Bitch, lies. You've been jealous of me ever since we were kids.
Why? Because I was everything you wanted to be then. And I'm
everything
you wish you could ever be now. You
wish
you could have half of what I have. And that includes having Jasper. But, newsflash,
bitch:
You could
never
be me. And you will
never
have what I have. You wanna know why? Because bitches like you are only good for a wet fuck. You ain't nothing but a bottom-feeder, bitch. Jasper would never be with your dumb ass. Yeah, he might let you eat the nut out his dick. And he
might
even drop a few dollars on you. But you'd
never
have my spot. The only spot you'd ever have is down on your knees either sucking his dick or getting fucked in your ass, bitch!”

She shoots me a dirty look, walking a hole in the carpet. “Pasha,
think
what the fuck you want, okay. Since you seem to have all the answers, why the fuck you sitting there asking me, huh?”

I let out a disgusted grunt. “You're fucking pathetic. You're pacing back and forth, like some caged animal, trapped and scared, tryna figure out a way to escape the truth. Bitch, there's no way out. And here's the truth: you wanted a piece of me. And all that nigga tossed you were a bunch of scraps.

“You
thought
you were gonna get the mansion, and the Benz, and the long dollars that come with fucking with a nigga like Jasper. But it didn't happen that way for you, did it? No. It never does, especially for a backstabbing bitch like you. At the end of the day, you
still
wasn't good enough. You'll
never
be good enough. Even after you sucked that nigga's nut out and snitched on me, you still end up right where the fuck you started. With nothing! Stupid bitch!