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Authors: Jennifer Luckett

BOOK: So Gone
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"Stop
it!" I cried out hysterically. This was far too chaotic for me.

The sight of the
gun caused Akeela to freeze, but it didn't frighten me. At that moment, I saw
Blunt for the street thug that he was. A man who was willing to murder a child
would do anything but I had no fear that he would shoot
me
.

I stalked back up
to him and shoved him in the chest with both hands. "Get the fuck
out!" My voice shook the walls.

"I'ma go, but
you bet' not leave this mothafuckin’ house," he warned.

As
Blunt backed out of the door, I broke down crying. "I'm sorry you all had
to go through that," I tearfully apologized to Leesha and the girls.

My cell
phone rang in the middle of my tears. I ignored it because I thought that it
might be Blunt calling, and I had nothing else to say to his deranged ass.
Then, I remembered that I was supposed to be meeting Fabian out for drinks
before all of this craziness jumped off. I took my phone out of my purse and
saw that, sure enough, I had a missed call from Fabian. I dried my tears and
called him back to cancel our date.

"No,
don't let Blunt spoil your plans. You go on out and have a nice time,"
Leesha encouraged when she heard me asking Fabian if we could go out some other
time.

"Will
you hold on a minute, please?" I asked him.

"Sure,"
he replied.

I put
the phone on mute and discussed it with Leesha further. She assured me that she
and the girls were fine. "Girl, go on out. If you stay home, that's
letting Blunt dictate what you do."

I
wasn't sure if I would make good company, but I decided not to allow Blunt to
rain on my parade. Besides, I wanted to hear Fabian try to explain why he
hadn't told me that he was going to the concert last night. That would surely
be worth a laugh or two.

I
unmuted the phone and informed Fabian that I was running a little late.
"But I will be there," I promised. "While you're waiting for me
to arrive, try to come up with a plausible explanation for last night . . . I'm
sure you know what I mean."

"Uh.
. . ."

"I'll
see you soon, Sir." I laughed, enjoying making him stutter. It really
didn't matter, I was not hoping to rekindle the past.

After
hanging up, I went back upstairs to redo my makeup. Fifteen minutes later, I
was on my way to the Olive Garden where Fabian and I agreed to meet for casual
drinks and a light meal. I didn't have much of an appetite, but a couple of
drinks sure sounded nice.

In the
car, I turned on my Bluetooth and talked to Fabian as I drove to the
restaurant. He told me that he was already down the street from the Olive
Garden off of Peachtree Street.

"Sorry,
I'm still twenty minutes away," I informed him.

“It's
cool. I'll be parked on the right side of the restaurant in a white Lexus.”

"Okay,
I'm in a red Mercedes."

"Ooh,
you're big ballin

," he teased.

"You're
too funny," I cackled. "You're the baller."

We
kidded back and forth until I arrived at the restaurant and parked next to him.
He hurried out of his car to open my door for me. "Thank you. You're so
sweet," I remarked. It felt so nice to be treated like a lady.

As I
slid out of the car and rose up, my eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
Blunt stood behind Fabian with a look of murder on his face.

Still Running Shit
Blunt

"Get back in
the car, Mo, or else I'ma splatter this nigga's brains all over your
outfit," I said with my 9mm German Luger pressed to the back of her date's
head. To him, I said menacingly, "One stupid move and it's gon' be lights
out for you, homie. Test my gangsta and you'll never get to tell about
it." I cracked him across the head with the steel.

He yelped like a
bitch ass nigga.

"Blunt, please
don't hurt him. He has nothing to do with what's going on between us. He's just
an old friend. Let him leave, and we'll talk," pleaded Mo'. She was
shaking like a leaf.

I grinned
mockingkly. "Oh, now you wanna talk? You ain't have no talk for me an hour
ago. What, you tryin' to save this pussy nigga? He must be more than a
friend."

"Nawl, man
---" the nigga moaned. He reached up to rub his head.

"Did I ask you
anything? And put your mothafuckin hands down before I get trigger happy on
that ass." I glanced around the lot to see if anyone was coming. The cover
of the night protected me from any Good Samaritan types.

"Mo', pop your
trunk," I barked.

"For
what?"

I slapped her date
across the back of the head with my banger a second time. Blood ran down the
back of his neck. "Pop the mothafuckin trunk!" I repeated more
forcefully.

I heard the trunk
unlatch. I made Mo' up her car keys so that she couldn't pull off. "You
know what the move is," I gritted to ol' boy, then marched him to the rear
of the car and forced him to climb into the trunk.

"Man, I'm
bleeding," he said, as if I gave a fuck.

"Next time, do
your homework," I spat before slamming the trunk lid.

I hurried around to
the passenger side and hopped in the car. I handed Mo' her keys back and
instructed her to pull off. "This is crazy, Blunt,” she cried.

"And it's
gonna get even crazier if you don't tell me what I wanna hear. Now put this
bitch in gear and drive down to The Bluff."

“No, Blunt, this is
crazy. I am not doing that. Let him go, and we’ll talk. I promise.”

I thought about it
for a minute, and then decided not to force her hand. “Aight, I’ma let the
pussy nigga out the trunk. But you better make him understand that if he comes
back around, I’ma make him sleep wit’ Jesus. You understand?”

“Yes.” Her reply
came out through clenched teeth.

“Mo’ don’t try me.
Fa real, a nigga is on edge. I’ll kill all three of us,” I threatened. I
pointed the gun at her, and then put it to my own head.

Mo’ covered her
eyes and cried, “No, Blunt!”

“Well, you better
come with me and tell that nigga what time it is.”

When I got out of
the car, Mo’ followed me back to the trunk.

“I ought to murk
this clown,” I gritted as I snatched the keys from her.

 “No, Blunt, that
is ridiculous. He’s no one but an old friend from high school,” she swore.

“I don’t give a
fuck. I want the nigga to kno’ that he can’t get at mine.” I opened the trunk
and pointed my banger down at the frightened square.

 “Mo, tell this
weak ass nigga what time it is,” I said as he climbed out of the trunk
cautiously.

She huffed, and
then told dude, “This is my boyfriend. I was mad at him when I called you and I
apologize for putting you in this situation. Under no circumstances will I call
you again.”

“Okay,” he replied.
Then he turned to go back to his car.

I put my banger to
the back of his head. Very menacingly I whispered, “Even if she calls you again
you bet not answer. You hear me, Pussy?”

He turned to face
me and my heat met the tip of his nose. "Do you hear me!" I barked.

“Yeah, bruh, I hear
you,” he replied.

I raised my foot
and kicked him dead in the ass.

“Argh, shit,” he
yelped. He grabbed his left ass cheek, fell inside the Lexus, and hauled ass.

“Why did you make
me do that,” asked Mo’ through tears when I slid back in her passenger seat.

“You had no
business callin’ that pussy in the first place. Switch seats wit’ me. I’ma
drive us to a place where we can talk.”

“Blunt, you’re
scaring me,” Mo’ remarked, trembling.

“Girl, hush. You
know I would never hurt you. I just want to talk things out. I’ll come back and
get my car.”

“Gosh!” She sighed
and reluctantly switched seats with me.

My Way Or The Highway
Molaysia

Blunt had to be
plum dumb and crazy to think that we could talk things out after the stunt he
had just pulled. I was steaming hot, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. I only wanted
to get the talk over with. After that, we could go our separate ways. I didn’t
utter one word as he drove on Interstate 285.

Blunt poured his
heart out the entire time until he pulled into the parking lot of The
Ritz-Carlton off Peachtree Street downtown. He removed the keys from the
ignition, opened the car door, and treaded to the front entrance of the hotel.
I shook my head in dismay because I really didn’t want to go up in a room with
him.

A few minutes
later, he came to the car and told me to get out. He grabbed a hold of my hand
once I stepped out of the car. An older Caucasian in his mid fifties came out
and valet parked my Benz.

We strutted inside
the building of the elegant hotel and took the elevator up to the second floor.
Once inside the Presidential Suite, I strolled over to the bed. I put one foot
under me and let the other foot dangle from the bed.

My eyes began to
inspect the entire room and its beauty. The living room area was nice with a
high definition flat panel television that I estimated to be at least 70
inches. There was a formal dining area with seating for six. French doors
opened to the executive study and the bedroom suite had a luxury walk in
shower.

Blunt came over and
pulled me up, and I silently followed him into the bathroom. I turned the
temperature knob on the Jacuzzi and ran him some bath water. He undressed in
front of me, stepped over into the Jacuzzi, and submerged his body under water.
I picked up a small towel and lathered it with soap. I dropped to my knees and
gently bathe him.

“Damn, baby, I
missed you. Happy Birthday.” He let out a long sigh and relaxed.

“Thanks and I
missed you too. You didn’t have to make me ashamed by going to the restaurant
confronting my classmate. All of that was unnecessary,” I griped while washing
his back and shoulders.

“I ain’t tryna hear
nothin’  ‘bout that nigga,” he said with an attitude and sank his body deeper
under the tiny bubbles.

“Well, I can
certainly change subjects.

I soaped up the
towel and continued to rub his back. “It seems to me that you want your cake
and ice cream too. You have some explaining to do. I want to know about
Luscious and Mika. And you need to tell me about the two babies that you have
had since we’ve been together. When were you going to tell me about this whole
other life you’ve been living?” I smacked him across the face with the towel.


Ow, Mo! That shit
hurt.


The shit that you
do hurts too,

I said, choking up.

“I know
it does, baby girl, and I'm sorry. Fa real, none of it was supposed to happen
that way. I know I fucked up, but I w
as gon’ tell you ‘bout my kids when the
time was right.”

I stood to my feet
and pressed my finger against the side of his face. “Oh, really? When was the
time going to be right for you to tell me that you’ve been sticking your dick
in other bitches?”

“I’m sorry, baby.”

“That’s all you
have to say? Sorry didn’t do it, you did. Blunt, you don’t want a good woman,
you want a street skeezer. Now, either you’re going to call both of those hoes
and tell them that it’s over between y’all, or it’s going to be over between us
for good,

I demanded.


Baby, it ain't even
that serious. I’m done dealing wit’ both of ‘em,

he claimed.


Yeah, right."
Sarcasm coated my reply.


Fa real, Mo."
He sat up and reached for my hand, but I snatched it away and stood up to my
feet.

I frowned down and
gave him a look like, Boy please! If I believed Blunt, I believed that cows
could fly.


Call both of them
and put the phone on speaker so I can hear you tell them it's over, or you can
forget about us ever getting back together.”

“Shawdy,
you trippin'. That's some high school shit. And while you're checkin' my dirty
clothes, I need to be checkin' yours.
You got all sexy to go and meet up wit’
another nigga. How I kno’ that y’all ain’t fuckin’?”

I knew that he was
only trying to flip the script. I wasn’t as stupid as he thought I was. I bent
over, gripped his balls, and squeezed.

“Fuck! Okay, I’ll
call ‘em up,” he bellowed and tried to pry my hands from his testicles.

“You better before
I snatch ‘em off!” I was done putting up with his bullcrap and lies. Leesha was
right, with niggas like mine you had to get
‘ignit’.

 
Boss Game
Blunt

With Mo’s hand
wrapped around my family jewels squeezing like my shit was a lemon and she was
intent on making lemonade, I would have agreed to anything.

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