“You gotta promise me you not gonna start snappin’. That you’ll hear me out, first.”
I frown. “Nigga I ain’t promisin’ shit. So speak or get da fuck out; for real, nigga. ’Cause on some real shit, you ain’t one’a my favorites right now.”
“I fucked up, Kat.”
“Yeah, nigga you did. You still wanna be out there fuckin’ otha bitches and shit.”
“No lie. That’s not what I’ve been doin’?”
“Well, was ya ass locked up?”
He shakes his head. “Nah.”
“Okay, what, you fuckin’ niggas?”
“Fuck outta here. That ain’t my steelo. I don’t get down like that, yo.”
“Aiight, so then what da fuck is it? Damn.”
“That crazy bitch been stressin’ me da fuck out, word up.”
“What crazy bitch?”
“Ramona.”
I blink, blink again. “I thought there was a restrainin’ order.”
“There is.”
“Okay, so then how da fuck is the bitch stressin’ you?” He tells me that since that night at the party she had been tryna get at ’im on his Facebook and Blackplanet pages. That she made up fake accounts. Tells me that they were sendin’ notes back and forth a few times, then he stopped the shit. The nigga tells me the bitch been talkin’ reckless since I rocked her nozzle up in that salon. He tells me the bitch was the one who gutted his tires in my driveway.
My nose flares. “Waaaait one gaawtdamn minute. You tellin’ me that bitch knows where da fuck I live. Is that what I hear you sayin’?”
He nods, lookin’ all pitiful ’n shit. “Yeah. She’s been followin’ me.”
“Wait a minute, so what you tell
in’ me is da bitch been stalkin’ you.”
“Yeah, this ho is a fuckin’ nut, yo. She’s done threw a brick through my pop’s window. And I ain’t even stayin’ there.” I ask ’im if anyone saw her do it. “Nah, but I know she did it. The bitch told me she was gonna keep fuckin’ wit’ me until I talked to ’er.”
I jump up from my seat, slammin’ my hand on my hip. “So you mean to tell me, all this time you been talkin’ to that bitch and you gotta restrainin’ order against ’er?” He nods. “Why?”
“I was tryna keep peace wit’ this broad.” I tilt my head, lookin’ at his ass like he’s a real Fruit Loop. “She’s been talkin’ real reckless, Kat.”
“Then why da fuck didn’t you call da police on ’er ass?”
“I did, yo. And them dumb muhfuckas thought da shit was funny, askin’ me dumb shit like was I really afraid of ’er, did I really think a lil’ chick like ’er could hurt a big nigga like me and shit like that.” He pulls out his cell. “But when she started leavin’ me all kinda crazy-ass messages, I went down to the station again and played ’em for them muhfuckas.” He retrieved his voice messages, then put the phone on speaker.
“Hi, baby. Call me. I miss you. Our baby misses you.”
I cringe, pacin’ the floor, listenin’ to this kook-bitch.
“Alex, call me, big daddy. I need to see you. Why won’t you return any of my calls?”
“Alley Cat, you pussy-ass nigga. You scared of this pussy. Stop fucking avoiding my calls, nigga.”
“Motherfucker, until you come back where you belong, until you fuck me wit’ that big-ass dick, I’m going to keep fuckin’ with you.”