“I know them lil’ hot-ass hoes weren’t. I’m tryna be nice today. Does this beauty you want me to meet have a name?”
“Yeah, Kat.”
“Kat? What kinda damn name is that?”
He looks ova at me. I raise my brow, twistin’ my lips up. “Yo, ma, chill. That’s her nickname. It’s Katrina.”
“Mmmph. That’s more like it. Does Katrina know ’bout all them nasty-ass hoes you…” I grin, startin’ to like’ ’er already. He takes ’er off’a speaker.
“Yo, ma, chill, aiight. I gotta bounce. I’ma be thru Sunday… yes, I’m bringin’ ’er wit’ me…Aiight, aiight, I got you…See you Sunday…love you, too.” He turns his phone off, walkin’ back ova to the bed, holdin’ his dick ’n grinnin’. “Now what?”
I smirk, spreadin’ my legs ’n pullin’ open my pussy. “You tell me, muhfucka.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Family is overrated…hoes been hatin’…dislikin’ da facts a bitch been statin’…bringin’ it raw…gotta bitch wantin’ ta throw up da hands…fuck bein’ related…step outta pocket…a bitch knockin’ sockets…breakin’ jaws…ain’t shit to understand…
“Ohmiiiiiiifuckin’gaawd, Kat, you are really outta fuckin’ control cursin’ ya grandmoms out like that. That shit is straight disrespectful ’n nasty.”
Me and Chanel are chillin’ at my spot, doin’ what we do best. Blazin’ ’n poppin’ mad shit ’n cursin’ each otha out. I finally decided to fill ’er in on the rest of the hospital drama wit’ my nutty-ass family. As you already know, Chanel’s my only true friend. And I got mad love for the ho ’cause, on e’ery thing, she ain’t gonna tell me what the fuck she thinks I wanna hear; she’s gonna serve it to me just how I dish it to ’er—raw. Still, a bitch ain’t always tryna hear the shit. And today happens to be one’a those days.
I roll my eyes, flickin’ my hand. “Oh, well. Life’s a bitch, boo. She had no business comin’ at me da way she did.”
“It doesn’t make a difference how she came at you, bitch. That’s still ya grandmother.”
“Bitch, be clear. I’ma grown-ass woman; I don’t give a fuck who it is. You bring it to me wrong, you gonna get handled. You act like I come at these hoes tryna bring da noise. No, sweetie. A bitch stays mindin’ ’er own business. But these bitches stay tryna serve me. Sorry, boo-boo, I ain’t da fuckin’ one.” I take another puff of the blunt, then pass it back to ’er.
“Kat, c’mon, ya grandmoms? It’s one thing you dissin’ ya moms and ya aunts, but ya grandmoms. That’s some foul shit. No matter what, she’s da one person you ’posed to always respect.”
“Says who?” I get up from table to check on the lasagna I have in the oven. Yeah, believe it or not, a bitch cooked. I remove the foil so it can brown on top, then start choppin’ up da lettuce, then slicin’ cucumbers for our salad. “Tell me what handbook that shit’s written in so I can smack da shit outta da bitch who wrote it.”
She huffs. “Bitch, there ain’t no damn handbook. You ’posed to respect ya elders; period, point-blank.”
I tilt my head. “Again, says who?” When she can’t give me an answer that makes sense to me, I add, “News flash, Sugah: It’s kinda hard ta respect a bitch who ain’t neva did shit for you. When a bitch ran away from home ’cause I couldn’t take all da bullshit Juanita was into anymore, that old-ass ho told me I couldn’t stay wit’ ’er. Da bitch told me she didn’t have any room for me. But she had room for all’a Elise’s kids when ’er ass was in prison. I came to that bitch cryin’ ’n she flat out told me ta take my ass back home. Didn’t say I could stay for da night, then go home; nuthin’. She straight out told me I couldn’t stay there; that a bitch wasn’t welcomed there. And you expect me to respect ’er. Fuck outta here. Grandmother or not, she can lick da inside’a my asshole. And I’ll leave it filled wit’ a buncha shit for ’er.”
Chanel coughs, chokin’ on weed smoke. “Ugh, that’s some nasty shit right there.”
“Oh well.”
“Bitch, I still think ya ass is crazy as fuck. I’m glad ya ass at least came to ya senses where da baby’s concerned.”
“Mmmph. That lil’ muhfucka is lucky. ’Cause trust, had I not walked in on them bitches doin’ that sonogram, it woulda been scraped out ’n tossed in da toilet.” Chanel stares at me, then blinks ’er eyes. I shrug. “Whaaat? I’m keepin’ shit real.”
“Whateva. All that matters is that you didn’t. We gotta lotta shit to get done before da baby comes home. I’m kinda excited ’bout bein’ an auntie.”
I stop choppin’, snappin’ my head in ’er direction. “Whoa, whoa…pump ya brakes, boo. What da fuck is you talkin’ ’bout?”
“I’m talkin’ ’bout da baby. After it’s born, aren’t you takin’ it?”
I buck my eyes, shakin’ my head. “Bitch, I said I changed my mind ’bout pullin’ da damn plug. I ain’t say nuthin’ ’bout bringin’ no baby up in here. Where da fuck you get me takin’ a baby outta that?”
She tilts ’er head, frownin’. “Ummm, it’s ya lil’ brotha or sista, so why da fuck wouldn’t you?”
I look at ’er ass like she’s one’a the dizziest hoes alive. “Ho, I gotta life, that’s why.”
“So you mean to tell me you’re gonna abandon ya own blood; is that what da fuck you tellin’ me?”
“Abandon? Ho, I ain’ abandonin’ shit. It doesn’t know me. And I don’t know it. So how is that me abandonin’ it?”