“Living”
After begging Mr. Richardson for another chance, Tiffany was allowed her job back, as long she could promise that her crazy boyfriend Blake wouldn't pop up at her job anymore, starting no shit.
Tiffany worked the day stress-free, and did it with a smile on her face. This smile was a natural one, not the usual forced one to cover the pain that she hid inside.
At the end of the night, she counted up her tips, grabbed her coat, then clocked out after saying her good-byes. She exited the restaurant. “Damn!” she huffed as the cold air slapped her in her face as soon as she stepped outside.
While walking, she heard someone yell out, “Yooooo.”
She turned around and saw Quick sitting on the hood of the Charger. She'd only recognized him by the car, because the hoodie he wore covered half of his face.
“What you doing out here?” she said, sliding in Quick's arm and gave him a quick hug.
“Waiting for you to get off,” Quick said. “Thought you could use a ride.”
“Thanks.”
Tiffany hopped in the passenger seat of the car and out of the cold, and Quick sped out the parking lot and out into the street. They cruised as the sound of Ne-Yo hummed softly through the speakers.
As Quick drove, he peeked over at Tiffany every now and then just to make sure she was all right.
“What's wrong?” Tiffany asked, catching him peeking at her.
“You was so quiet over there, I just wanted to make sure you was still alive.” He laughed.
“I'm good,” Tiffany said. “I was just thinking.”
“About?” Quick asked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at her.
“I mean, why are you being so nice to me? Is it something that you want from me?”
Quick laughed for a second. “Why is it that I must want something from you? 'Cause I'm being nice to you?”
“I'm just saying,” she said, turning to face him, “you letting me stay at your house and everything, you ain't charging me no rent or nothing, I just wanna know what's up.”
“You look like you needed a little help, that's all. I don't want nothing from you.”
Quick parked in front of his apartment and shut the engine off, and him and Tiffany entered the apartment. Tiffany disappeared in the bathroom, so she could take a shower.
Quick walked over to the kitchen and helped himself to a drink as he read a text message from Major Pain that read: “Be at your crib in 30 min, be ready to roll out”
Quick slid his phone back in its case and downed the liquid fire in one gulp. Seconds later, Tiffany stepped out of the shower covered in a towel.
“My bad,” Quick apologized as he headed back toward the bedroom and waited for Major Pain to arrive.
The bedroom, where Quick kept all of his money, was off-limits to Tiffany. He pulled a stack out of his pocket, quickly counted it, then tossed it in the bag with the rest of his money. Seconds later, Quick heard somebody outside beeping the horn like a madman. He shook his head, knowing it could only be Major Pain.
“Yo, I'll be back in a few,” he said as he flew out the door.
He stepped out his apartment and saw the black Escalade waiting curbside. He opened the passenger door, and the loud sound of Dipset new mixtape came blasting out.
“What's good, my
G
?” Quick said, and the two men slapped hands.
“Glad to see you still alive,” Major Pain said, pulling away from the curb. “Gotta go pick Turf and Goliath up from jail.”
“Jail?” Quick repeated. “What they doing in jail?”
“Heard they got it on wit' some
D
s,” Major Pain told him, weaving his way through traffic with his gun resting on his lap. He always seemed to be ready for action.
“Fucked up what happened to that nigga Wolf.”
“Yeah,” Major Pain said. “That was my nigga. I put in a lot of work with that man and saw him put in a lot of work. God rest his soul.”
Major Pain pulled up in front of the jail and patiently waited. “I heard Sosa and his team bum-rushed your girl's crib and smoked her,” he said, looking over at Quick, waiting for him to confirm the story.
“Yeah, it's true,” Quick said, thinking back on Ivy. He couldn't express what he felt for her, how real she was, her natural beauty. Ivy was definitely irreplaceable, but like it or not, he had to move on with his life. Even though she was gone, he would still hold a special place in his heart for her, no matter what.
“Tomorrow we gotta go take care of some high-class Italian club owner,” Major Pain said, his eyes glued to the front of the police station.
“Not a problem,” Quick said, as if snatching a human life was no big deal.
Quick heard his cell phone ringing. He glanced down at the caller ID and saw Kat's name flashing across the screen. He immediately sent her straight to voice mail, as he continued his conversation.
“What time we gotta do that tomorrow?”
“Not sure, but early though.” Major Pain saw Turf and Goliath strolling out the police station. He tapped the horn twice, catching the attention of the two men.
Turf and Goliath slid in the backseat.
“Get me away from this fuckin' place!” Turf couldn't stand the sight of the station any longer.
“What happened with you and Sosa back there?” Goliath asked.
“What?” Major Pain looked at Turf through the rearview mirror. “That nigga Sosa was up in there with y'all?”
“Yeah,” Turf said, leaning back in his seat. “That nigga walked up in there like he was the man. When he saw me, he almost shit himself.” He decided to embellish the story a little.
As Quick listened to the story, he heard his cell phone ringing again. Again he saw Kat's name flashing across the screen, and once again he sent her straight to voice mail.
“As soon as that nigga touch down, he's dead,” Turf said, meaning every word he spoke. As bad as he wanted Sosa dead right now, he had to put that issue on pause for a second and get back to the money. “In three days we got a meeting with the connect, so I need y'all to be on standby.”
Quick was trying to pay attention to what Turf was saying, but his phone kept interrupting him. Kat sent him a text message that read: “Pls call me it's an emergency!!!” But he ignored it and placed his phone back in its case.
“I also got the heads-up on this stash house I'ma need you two to take care of,” Turf said, looking at Major Pain and Quick.
Again Quick's phone interrupted.
Turf looked over at Quick. “Is everything all right?”
“My bad. Let me take this call real quick,” he said, and he answered his ringing phone. “Yo, what's up? Why the fuck you keep on calling me?” he barked into the phone.
“I told you I had an emergency,” Kat replied with an attitude.
“What's the emergency?” Quick asked her, as if she was lying.
“I can't talk right now. Just please come over to my house please,” she begged.
“A'ight, I'll be there in about a hour,” Quick said, ending the call. He slipped his phone back in its case. “My bad,” he apologized.
“It's all good. Just make sure you ready to put in this work in the next few days,” Turf said.
Just then Major Pain pulled up in front of a big, expensive-looking house.
“Y'all niggas hold it down,” Turf said, and him and Goliath hopped out the back of the truck and headed in the house.
“What's good? Wanna hit up a strip club or something?” Major Pain looked over at Quick for a response.
“Nah.” Quick looked at his watch. “I need you to drop me off this chick crib,” he said. “We can hit up the strip club tomorrow, if you want.”
“Nah. I'm hitting that bitch up tonight,” Major Pain said as he pulled off. “It's too early for me to go home.”
Major Pain hated going home. He didn't have a family or a girlfriend at home waiting for him, so when he went home, it was just him. He didn't trust a woman enough to let her move in his house. He had seen some the best hustlers lose everything because of a woman. If he was going to lose everything he had worked so hard for, it wasn't going to be because of a woman. He'd rather blow all his money first before he let a woman destroy him.
“You better be careful fuckin' with them bitches,” Major Pain said. “I never let a bitch know where I live.”
“So you plan on living the rest of life like that?”
“If I have to,” Major Pain said seriously. “Trust me, bitches will fuck your whole shit up,” he said, pulling over at the address that Quick had given him.
“You a crazy muthafucka.” Quick laughed as he gave Major Pain dap and slid out the truck. “Don't get too drunk at the strip club and take one of them strippers home with you.” He laughed out loud.
“I'll never get that drunk.” Major Pain pulled off once he knew Quick was at his destination.
Quick walked up the three steps slowly. He let out a frustrated breath as he knocked on the door. Seconds later he heard feet shuffling from behind the door then the sound of locks being unlocked.
“Hey, baby. What's up?” Kat said, standing behind the door as she opened it.
Quick stepped inside the apartment and saw that all the lights were out, and Kat had candles lit up all over the place. “Fuck going on up in here?” He turned the lights on and saw Kat in a purple bra and matching thong, purple pumps to match. And her face was covered in makeup, making her look very sexy. Quick had never seen her done up like this before.
“I missed you,” Kat whined, walking up on Quick. “And I need my dick,” she added in an almost begging tone as her and Quick stood face to face.
Immediately Quick felt his dick began to stiffen. “What's the big emergency?” he asked, trying to play it cool.
“This is the emergency.” Kat pulled the front of her thong to the side, so Quick could see her freshly waxed pussy.
Quick looked down and pretended not to be impressed. “You called me down here for that?”
“And for this,” Kat said seductively. She melted down into a squat and unzipped Quick's pants.
“Yo, chill,” Quick said in weak protest.
Kat ignored Quick's words as she placed his already hard dick in her mouth and began sucking on it. She twirled her head and sucked on Quick's dick like she was in a competition to see who could make a dick come first.
As bad as Quick wanted to tell Kat to stop, his mouth just wouldn't cooperate with his brain, so he just stood there and allowed her to suck all over his dick, until he finally exploded in her mouth.
After Quick cleaned off his dick, he headed for the door.
“Where the fuck you think you going?” Kat asked, her hands on her hips.
“I'm out. I came over here 'cause I thought you were in trouble or something.”
“Fuck you mean, you out?” Kat said, her face frowned. “Nigga, you ain't going nowhere until you give me my dick.” She kicked off her heels and slipped out of her bra and thong. “You must got me fucked up,” she added, and she turned the lights back off.
“Yo, I'm out,” Quick said as he grabbed the doorknob.
Kat quickly pushed the door close, just as Quick was opening it. “Stop playing,” she said, rubbing on Quick's muscular chest. “You can't just leave me like this. I have needs too, you know.”
“Fuck that got to do with me?” Quick was tired of playing games with Kat.
“Oh, so what? You gon' go home and dream about that dead bitch you was fuckin'?” Kat said, trying to get under Quick's skin. “You must like that cold pussy.” She laughed loudly. “You a bitch-ass nigga anyway,” she said, looking at him in disgust. “I don't even know why I called you in the first place. You rather go beat off to a dead bitch memories than get some good pussy sitting right here in your face.”
“Watch your mouth!”
“Fuck you and that dead bitch! Both of y'all can kiss my ass!” Kat yelled all up in Quick's face. “And I heard your own boy Lucky killed your bitch.” She laughed loudly again. “And your bitch ass ain't even do shit. And you call yourself a man? Fuck outta here! If a bitch killed my man, I wouldâ”
Quick smacked the shit out of Kat before she could even finish the sentence. He grabbed her by her throat and applied pressure. “Bitch, shut the fuck up! You just don't know! You just don't know!” he growled. He released his grip, shoving her backwards.
Kat stumbled backwards, grabbing her throat. “How dare you put your muthafuckin' hands on me!” She rushed to the phone and dialed 9-1-1.