Retribution (15 page)

I turn to walk toward the door, but he snatches me by the arm.

“You
let
me? Fuck outta here. Yo real shit, Pasha, don't let that crazy bitch out there put a battery pack up on ya back ‘n' get you fucked up, yo. ”

I yank my arm back. “Oh really? Why, because she put you and Felecia's asses on blast? Or is it because she called you out when she caught you making googly eyes with that Chanel bitch while her ass was sitting in my chair? You come up in my shop and disrespect me, flirting with some other bitch.”

“Yo, you still on that shit? Fuck outta here, yo. Wasn't nobody makin' googly eyes or flirtin' wit' that stuck-up bitch. And ain't nobody ever fuck Felecia's dirty ass. But you wanna listen to some hoodrat bitch. I'm tellin' you, yo. Go 'head ‘n' keep listenin' to that hood roach if you want. That bitch gonna get your jaw dropped.”

“You know what. I'm doing this with you. Get the fuck out of my shop. I'm sick of you—”

Before I can get the rest of my words out, this nigga smacks the shit out of me. I stumble back, grabbing the side of my face. Stunned.

“I'm sick of ya muthafuckin' mouth, yo. You stay poppin' that dumb shit, Pasha.” He hits me again. And I swear it feels like he's knocked me three feet backward. “I don't know why you make me have'ta put my fuckin' hands on you, yo. You must really like it when I fuck you up. Is that it, yo?”

I'm literally in shock. Jasper has put his hands on me six times too many. And he's always done it behind closed doors—at home! This is the first time that this nigga's put his fucking hands on me
here
…in my goddamn salon. I touch my lip, then look at the blood on my fingers.

I charge him, punching and slapping him all upside his head. My nails dig into his face, his neck, slicing open his dark skin. He tries to restrain me. I elbow him in his ribs. I use every technique I've learned in my self-defense training over the last year. And give it to him.

“Yo, what the fuck, yo? Don't have me fuck you up, Pasha. Chill.”

“Chill,
hell, motherfucker! I'm sick of you putting your goddamn hands on me.” I dig my nails into his neck, clawing him up. Bite him in his chest. He swings me around. Wraps his thick arms around me in a bear hug, trying to squeeze the air out of me. I dig my nails into his arm, bite into his flesh. Clamp down so tight until I break skin, until this nigga starts to howl. He lets go, then wrestles me down to the floor.

“Fuck, yo!” He slaps the shit out of me. His hand feels like lead. And I swear I hear my jaw shatter. A part of me is relieved that my office is all the way in the back of my salon and door is shut so no one can hear us in here tossing shit up. But another part of me wishes someone would barge in and catch this nigga on top of me, my arms pinned up over my head. Screaming would be a moot point since I had my office soundproofed over the summer.

I clench my teeth. “Get the fuck off of me, Jasper.”

“Hell, naw. Not until you calm the fuck down, yo. You outta pocket, yo.”

I spit at him, a mixture of my blood and his. “No, nigga.
You're
the one who's outta pocket for thinking you can keep putting your goddamn, motherfucking hands on
me
. Get. The. Fuck. Off. Me!” I try to wriggle myself from under him, but he has all of his weight on me.

“What the fuck's wrong wit' you, yo, huh? You want ya ass beat,
is that it, Pash?” Something comes over me and I stop wriggling around. I lie there on the floor, staring him down. My nose flares. This is
finally
it for me. I'm fucking
done
with this crazy nigga always talking shit. I'm done with his goddamn threats. I'm done with him
thinking
I'm his personal punching bag. I'm done with dragging out what I should have already done. Handled this nigga, once and for all.

This motherfucker has the nerve to start grinding his dick into me. “You stay on ya bullshit, Pasha. I want some pussy, yo. You got my shit hard as fuck. I wanna fuck you, right here. Let me get up in them muthafuckin' drawz. You gonna have a muhfucka kill yo' ass if you don't chill the fuck out.”

I hear Booty's voice in my head saying,
“Do him right, goddammit!”

A sly grin eases over my face. I flip the script on his ass. “I know, Jasper. You make me so fucking crazy; that's all. You know you the only nigga for me.” He eases his grip off my hand. “You keep my pussy wet, Jasper.”

He groans. “Then act like it, yo. And stop playin' all these muthafuckin' games, yo.” He lets my wrists go, moving one hand along the side of my body; his other hand grabs at my breasts. “Let me get up in this pussy, yo.”

My arms and wrists are bruised from where he's grabbed them. My jaw aches. I can feel the side of my face swelling. My bottom lip is swollen and throbbing. I take a deep breath.

“I wanna suck your dick, first. Can I have daddy's big thick dick, huh, baby?”

He hops the fuck up off of me real quick at the thought of getting some of this neck-pussy. Nigga acts like nothing ever happened. That he didn't just have me pinned down on the floor, or slapped me up.

I eye him as he hastily unfastens his belt, unzips the fly of his True
Religions, then fishes his semi-hard dick out of his underwear. I ease up on my knees, licking my lips. I kiss the head of his dick. “Oooh, look at that big dick…”

I yank his jeans and boxers down to his knees.

“I'ma give it to you real good, Jasper,” I say all low and sweet. “All this big, beautiful, black dick,” I whisper, taking it in my hands, looking up at him. I kiss over and under and along the shaft. “All this good dick.”

“Yeah, that's right. 'Bout time you handle ya man right. Put ya mouth up on that dick, yo.”

I slowly lick around the head. Then wrap my lips around it, suckling it. His dick thickens and stretches as I suck it into my mouth, inch by inch, until it hits the back of my throat. I throat it nice and slow, long neck it, short neck it. Bring it back up to the head, then gulp it right back down to the base. The deeper his dick goes down into my neck, the wetter my mouth gets. I suck this nigga's dick like it's the last supper. My tongue, my lips, my throat all working in sync, giving it to him in a way he'll never forget.

“Aaah, shit, yeah, yo. Fuck, Pasha! You gonna have me kill a muhfucka over you, yo. Fuck! Aaah, shiiit, yeah…”

I cup his heavy balls. Lightly tug at them. Graze them with my fingernails. I pull his spit-coated dick from out of my neck, glide my hand over its slippery head, then slowly jack him off, while licking around his balls.

“Aaah, shit, yeah…lick them balls…Yeah, jack that dick, yo…”

I glance up at him, his balls deep in my mouth, the back of my throat humming, grinning. His head is tossed back. His bottom lip is pulled in. He has both hands up on his hips, rocking at the knees. I wet his balls up real good, rapidly stroking his dick. He grunts and groans. Tells me he's about to nut.

And, then…

I lock my jaws around his ball sac and bite into his balls with everything in me. I chew and grind. I use all thirty-two of my teeth to tear into his flesh. Jasper lets out a bloodcurdling scream. He tries to punch me off of his shit, but the pain is too intense. The more he tries to fight me off of him, the harder I bite. I gnaw into his balls until the nigga's knees buckle and he hits the floor. And I don't let go until my mouth fills with blood. Until tears spring from this nigga's eyes, until he breaks out in a sweat, and he nearly passes out.

“Arrrrrrrrrgh, fuuuuuuck!!” He cups his balls, rolling back and forth, legs balled up to his chest. “Aarrrrrrgh…! I'ma…ugggggggh! Fuuuuck…!”

I calmly pull myself up off the floor. Walk over to my desk, pull out the key to my top drawer, then unlock it as he's groaning and rolling around in pain, making all kinds of threats toward me for chewing his balls up. I yank open the drawer.

“I'ma…fuckin'…arrrrgh…kill…arrrrgh…!”

The metallic taste of his blood is coated on my tongue. I clench my teeth, snatching out my Clock then calmly walking back over to him as he attempts to get up, bringing the butt of my gun across his face.

“Aaaaaah! Fuck! Aarrrrrgh…!”

“Motherfucker! This is the last time you'll
ever
put your hands on me, threaten me, or get your dick wet by me.” I hit him across the face again, causing a deep gash over his eye. “I'm fucking done with you! Now get the fuck up!”

I can tell I got the nigga dazed. But he isn't going down. He struggles to get up. There's blood trickling down his leg. He leans over, cupping his groan. When he glances at the blood on his fingertips, looks as if he's about to pass out.

”Ugh shit! What the fuck…?!” Blood streaks down his face. He keeps his eyes on me as he tries to pull up his pants, groaning. He drops back down on his knees. “Uggh! You fucked…my balls up…shiiiit…uhhhh…!”

“I want you the fuck out of my life, nigga!” I screw on the silencer. His eyes pop open. “You should have killed me when you had the chance, nigga.” I aim the gun at his head. His eyes pop open.

For the first time in a long time, holding this gun in my hand, it pointed at Jasper's goddamn head, seeing his eyes pop open, makes me feel powerful. Like I'm the bitch in charge—
finally.
I could really kill his ass, right here, right now. And feel nothing.

He throws one hand up, his other still holding his bleeding ball sac. “Whoa, whoa…Uggggh, fuck…Pasha, what the fuck is…shit, yo you doin'…”

I cock the gun back, and shoot over his head. I purposefully miss, hitting the wall in back of him with a heavy
thud
. But it gets his ass shook. The nigga didn't think I had it in me. Didn't think I'd ever pull a gun out on his ass.

“I'm goddamn done. You come
any
where near me, Jasper, and I
will
put a fucking bullet in your motherfucking face, nigga. I want you the
fuck
outta my salon, nigga. And I want you outta
my
mother
fucking
house by the time I get home tonight.”

He frowns, wiping the blood from his face with the end of his shirt. “That's my shit, too, yo…ugggh, fuck…” he hunches over, clutching his balls again. “Uhhh, fuuuuck…! I think you fucked up my balls! Aaaah fuck, yo…!”

“Nigga, count your blessings. The next time you step to me for any of this neck or pussy, I'm going to finish the job.”

“Fuck, yo! You got my muthafuckin' balls bleedin', bitch!”

“Jasper…hurry up…and get. The. Fuck. Out. Or I will blow your
fucking skull in.” He keeps his eyes on me as he slowly backs up toward the door. The nigga can barely stand. I swing open the office door, call for Stax to come get this nigga.

A look of shock covers Stax's face the minute he steps through the door and sees Jasper on his knees bent over, his jeans and underwear hanging off his ass—showing his whole ass, groaning. “Oh, shit! What the fuck?” Stacks snaps, taking Jasper's bloody appearance in, then glancing at me. “What the fuck happen, yo?” Stax looks from him to me. He stares at Jasper's clawed-up neck, the gash over his eye, the bleeding teeth marks in his arm, the blood on his hands.

“The nigga put his goddamn hands on me and I clawed his ass up.”

“Uuuh, fuck. Uhh, this bitch bit my balls, yo…uhhhh…”

“Get him the fuck up outta my motherfucking salon. And make sure you take his black ass to the house to get his shit.
All
of it! I want him out of
my
house by the time I get there, or I promise both of you he won't be the only motherfucker miss…” I catch myself before it all slips out.

Jasper pulls himself up, his pants drop around his hips, he quickly grabs them, trying to pull them up. He tries to walk but the nigga almost falls. Stax catches him, helping him limp his way to the door. His pants are falling off his ass. “Fuck! Uggggh! Bitch tried to bite my muthafuckin' shit off…get me the fuck up outta here, yo…I'ma fuckin' kill her…uggh, shiiit! Fuckin' bitch…ugggh!”

Stax helps walk him out of my office, groaning his way through the salon and out the fucking door with me following behind. Talking shit.

The whole shop is quiet. All eyes are on me. I have literally turned the place out, airing my personal business for all to see. And every jaw is dropped. Even Cassandra is deadpan.

It isn't until I look down that I finally realize what everyone is staring at.

I am still holding the gun in my hand.

And there's blood all around my mouth.

Sometimes you need to know how to fall back, in order to plan an attack…

“O
oooooh, yes, goddammit, Miss Pasha, girl. You bent over ‘n' showed yo'
assssss
, sugah-boo. You put the hood in classy ‘n' turnt it all the way up to goddamn gutter. Yes,
FahverGawd!
You clawed that nigga-coon's neck up real good ‘n' goddamn gooey, sweetness. Then you chomped into his balls! Came out with your mouth all bloody. Yessss,
FahverGawd!
Miss Pasha, girl, I ain't think you was gonna ever crank up the ghetto-switch, goddamn you! But you did me right, goddammit! I ain't even gonna lie, sweetness. My cootie-coo got a lil juicy when I looked down ‘n' saw you had a gun in ya hand. And then to hear you done tried to eat his balls off. Oooh, yes,
FahverGawd,
you gave them messy bitches down at the salon some shit to gag on. And it wasn't no dingaling. Yessss, sugah-boo…”

With a blank expression and an icepack up to my face, I stare at Booty as she flaps her mouth a mile a minute, trying to figure out how in the hell I
ever
let her ass talk me into leaving the salon with her. But she did. And somehow I let her.