Ain't shit open after eleven but legs so what the fuck you been doing?"
"First of all, who are you talkin' to? And second of all, you do it. Why can't I?"
"What the fuck you mean you do it, why can't I? I ain't riding no muthafuckin' pole!"
"I did not mean that and you know it," she laughed.
"A'ight, enough of the jokes, smart ass. For real, where you been?"
"At the Loft."
"I better not find out you was in the club all up in some other man's face." He grabbed her and placed her head in a head lock.
"Boy, please! I know you ain't! Every time I go to the club wit you it's a new chick in yo' face! They don't even care that I'm standing right there!" she giggled, trying to break loose.
"You heard what I said!" he warned, tightening his grip.
"And why you got this short-ass dress on?" He tickled her stomach.
"Stop!" she screamed while laughing hysterically. Mo hated being tickled. "Quan, let me go! You gon' mess up my hair!"
"That shit was fucked up anyway," he said, finally letting her go.
"You get on my nerves! You play too much! Try that shit now, nigga!" She hit him in the head. "Go ahead, put them hands up, pussy!"
"Oh, you wanna fight?" Quan grinned, pretending to jump at her.
"Okay, okay, I quit!" Mo hid her face with her hands.
"That's what I thought, punk."
"I know you messed up my hair," she pouted, trying her best to salvage what was left of her hairdo.
"And anyway while you talkin', what you doing home so early anyway? You usually don't get in until the crack of dawn.
And why you got my living room lookin' like this? You got beer bottles everywhere! That plate sittin' on the end table! All you had to do was get up, empty your plate and put it in the sink! But I guess that was too hard for you. Plus, you got fuckin' weed seeds all in my carpet! Now the living room gon' be smellin' like weed even when you ain't smokin'!"
"I came home to be wit a certain somebody but she wasn't here. And quit nagging a nigga. I'ma clean this shit up."
"Yeah right. If yo' ass would listen sometime, you would've heard me when I told you earlier that I was going out."
"Oh, you did tell me that. My bad, I forgot. I thought that was one of my other chicks."
"Quan ... don't get smacked," Mo warned, not finding him funny.
"You know I'm just playin'." He kissed her lips. "But it was fucked up that I had to come home and fix my own food. I ain't have nobody to talk to or nothing," he whined, trying to make Mo feel bad.
"Negro please! You ordered a pizza. And anyway, I come home every night to an empty house. You don't see me complaining. You come home early one time and want to pitch a fit? I don't think so."
"Look, if I didn't stay gone all the time, we wouldn't have a house to come home to. But when I am home I do expect for my woman, or should I say fiancee, to be home when I get here and not out wearing little bitty-ass skirts in the club."
"You're right. I'm sorry. You forgive me?" She poked out her bottom lip giving him her best puppy dog face.
"Yeah, I'll forgive you if you do me favor," he assured, running his fingers through her hair.
"What kind of favor?"
"Let me put a meat pop in yo' mouth," Quan half-joked.
"What?!" Mo exclaimed, shocked.
"For real ... show ya man some love."
"No, suckin' dick causes gingivitis." She laughed.
"Let's see." He laughed, too.
"No, stupid-ass, and anyway, what's going on wit you and Diggy? I thought you was tryin' to leave that street shit alone?"
"I am."
"Okay, so what kind of business was so important that he wanted you come out this late at night? You know I was talkin' to Mina today. She told me she ran into your friend Tony's girl Tori. Now you know how caked-up that nigga was. Well check it, since he's been locked up, her ass has been working at Bakers in the Galleria."
"Okay, your point is?" Quan shrugged his shoulders, confused.
"My point is ... what if something happens to you? I mean, God forbid you get locked up."
"I'm not."
"But if you do what's gonna happen to me?"
"Don't I take care of you?"
"Yeah you do, but who's going to provide for me if something happens to you? Cam? Stacy? Just the thought makes my stomach hurt."
"You'll be taken care of." Quan took a pull off the blunt.
"How?"
"Man, trust me. You gon' be straight. I got money for you set up in some overseas account."
"But I don't have the serial number," she stressed.
"You'll get it when the time comes, Mo. It's for your own good, so you're not an accomplice."
"Okay, well, since you won't tell me anything, at least let me get a job. That way I can be saving up my own money."
"You have money in the bank and no, I told you I don't want you to work. A woman's job is in the home, taking care of her man."
"Quan, I didn't work my butt off for sixteen years getting straight A's for nothing and I most certainly didn't get a bachelor's degree just to look at the certificate."
"Man, please let it go. Let it go. The conversation is done," Quan replied, aggravated.
"But Quan--"
"But Quan nothing. I told you to let it go!" Deciding to go with the flow, Mo changed the subject and asked, "What you watching?"
"This '
Flavor of Love
' bullshit. How you watch this mess?" "Boy, you trippin', this my show. Goldie and Miss New York are my girls!" Mo exclaimed as her cell phone began to ring. She could've kicked herself. She knew not to keep her phone on when she was around Quan. Too many dudes had her number.
"Who the fuck is that callin' you at damn near four o'clock in the morning?" he questioned, heated.
"Calm down, it's probably Mina's ole worrisome ass making sure I got home okay. I did have a couple of drinks, you know. Hello?"
"Speak to Mo?" the lil' tender from the club said.
"Didn't I tell you not to call me after nine o'clock, girl?"
"Oh, that must be code for your man sittin' right there," he laughed.
"Yeah, but I made it home alright. I'ma talk to you tomorrow," she replied, cutting the conversation short.
"A'ight, lil' mama," he chuckled, hanging up.
"So that was Mina?" Quan asked, eying her suspiciously.
"Yeah, what, you think I'm lying?"
"Let me find out that was some other nigga, Mo."
"Boy shut up! I told you it was Mina. You want me to call her back?"
"Nah, you ain't gotta do that," Quan replied, still looking at her funny. "Did you have fun tonight?"
"Yeah, it was cool. It would've been funner if you were there," she cooed, kissing his neck.
"I'm here now, that's all that matters," he whispered, pulling her close and kissing her on the forehead.
"I know, I know."
6
Selfish (I Want U 2 Myself)
A week later, Quan sat patiently on the edge of the bed
dressed in a white tee, LRG baggy shorts, and white on white
Air Force 1's
. He was waiting for Mo to come out of the bathroom. With each minute that passed, he became more and more impatient. They were supposed to be out of the house over an hour ago. It was the Fourth of July and they both had some major shopping to do. Quan had to go pick up his new custom-made Nikes and Mo needed to go to Neiman Marcus to pick out an outfit.
While rolling up a blunt and bobbing his head to the sounds of T.I., he noticed that her Sidekick was on the nightstand vibrating. Curious as to whom it could be, Quan picked it up. Mo had a text message waiting from some dude named Tez. Instantly, Quan's upper lip began to curl.
Who the fuck is Tez?
he thought. Scrolling through the message it read:
From Tez (1-314-555-7459)
Date 7/04/2006 1:10 pm
U play 2 much, I have feelnz an they r not 2 b playd with, I didn't do anything 2 b treatd like this...u kno I love U Mo
Ignore Reply
Pissed, Quan shot up from the bed and stormed into the bathroom. It was as if a time bomb had gone off inside his head. At that moment, he didn't care about all the things he'd done in the past. Quan was selfish when it came to Mo. He wanted her all to himself. Plus, he had already warned her about niggas calling her phone. Furious, he snatched the glass shower door back, reached out his hand and grabbed Mo by the neck.
"Ahh!" she screamed, caught off guard. Mo was so shocked she almost slipped and fell, but Quan held her up.
"Oh, don't worry. I got you. I ain't gon' let you fall 'cause you got some explaining to do," he quipped, still holding her up by the neck as he dragged her out the shower. "So you playin' games?! Some nigga love you?"
"What?" Mo asked, shocked and confused.
"You heard me! Some nigga love you?"
"Baby, what are you talkin' about?!"
"Don't talk that baby shit to me! Is that the way you talk to that nigga? That's why he love you so much?"
"What the fuck are you talkin' about?!"
"Quit actin' stupid, Mo!" Quan warned with an even tighter grip on her neck. "Just be real about the shit! If you whoring around, let a nigga know!"
"Will you let me go?
I don't know what you're talking
about
!" she screamed. Mo was scared out of her mind. The way Quan was staring at her sent chills up her spine. For a minute he almost looked demonic, his face was filled with such disdain.
"You love to play games don't you?! Now I see what that nigga talkin' about!"
"Games? What the fuck are you talkin' about? Will you say what you got to say?"
"So now you wanna play dumb? You know exactly what kind of games I'm talkin' about! Who the fuck is Tez?" Surprised to hear her old flame's name come out of Quan's mouth, Mo stood silent.
"What, cat got ya tongue? Don't get quiet now, nigga! Any other time you runnin' off at the goddamn mouth! Don't stop now! Who the fuck is Tez?"
"This guy I went to school wit! Now will you let me go?!"
"Nah, you good! I wanna know who the fuck this nigga is that love you so much! You fuckin' him?" Quan asked calmly as a lump as big as his fist rose in his throat.
"You know what ... I ain't got time for this bullshit!" Mo replied as she pulled his hand from around her neck. Pissed, she stomped into their bedroom.
"Nah, don't walk away! Answer the fuckin' question, Mo!
Are you fuckin' him?!"
"Hell naw!"
"So what the fuck that nigga doing text messaging you?" he barked, trying his best not to spaz out and choke the shit out of her.
"I don't know!"
"You don't know? So you gon' sit up here and lie to my face? Do I look like a fuckin' fool to you?!" He got up into her face again.
"Dude ... if you don't get the fuck out my face with this bullshit..." Mo warned as she placed on her clothes.
"Mo, don't fuck wit me. Like for real, please, don't fuck wit me right now," Quan stressed, sick to his stomach he was so disgusted by the situation. "I'm so sick of yo' lying muthafuckin' ass I don't know what to do!"
"Ain't nobody lyin' to you."
"Yeah, right! I can't believe this shit!"
"Give me my goddamn phone! You shouldn't have been going through it anyway!"
Instead of handing it to her, Quan decided to throw it at her. Not wanting her phone to break, Mo hurried and caught it.
"Oh you ain't gon' let that muthafucka fall, is you?" Quan stated sarcastically. "I ain't gon' break yo' phone. You gon' be able to call that nigga back later." Mo ignored his smart comment and scrolled through the message to see what it said.
"Is this what you're so mad about?! Since you want to be in my business so goddamn bad, learn how to read! The nigga just said I ain't fuckin' wit him like that, dumb ass!" she countered, trying to use reverse psychology.
"Whateva, Mo, you can switch this shit up if you want to.
But I tell you what, if I find out you fuckin' wit him, I swear to God I'm leaving you!"
"I can't believe you screaming on me over a fuckin' text message that some nigga sent. And then on top of that you gon' threaten to leave me! Is that all it takes for you?"
"You damn right! You ain't gon' play me for a fuckin' fool!"
"Alright, Quan, whateva. Do what you gotta do then." Not knowing how to react, Quan just stood there. His clothes were wet but he didn't care. The only thing he cared about was finding out the truth, and at that moment he knew that Mo wasn't giving it to him. Everything in him was telling him to whoop her ass because he knew that she wasn't telling the truth. But what could he do?