She Got It Bad for a Heartless Gangsta 2

by Shvonne Latrice

  When I looked up at him, he shook his head at me out of disappointment and slight disgust, then left the room.

  Chapter Five: Isla

  I pressed my ass against MG’s crotch, waiting for him to spring up down there and take this pussy. He hadn’t touched me in a minute and I was starting to get worried. His mother’s words constantly circled my damn mind, because I was wondering if she was right.

  I loved MG’s money at the end of the day, and didn’t want him going anywhere, especially not to another bitch. But these days, it seemed like we barely talked to one another unless Michael was in the room. Things just weren’t going good for me right now on the home front.

  I was tired as hell from sneaking out of bed to brush my teeth and apply a little bit of highlighter to look and smell better this morning, so I drifted back off to sleep. MG had turned his back to me, and I wasn’t tripping since his dick was softer than a damn worm at the moment anyway…

  I woke up about an hour and a half later, and when I patted the area of the bed next to me, I realized MG was gone. Groaning, I sat up and went to the bathroom so I could take a shower and brush my teeth again. Once out, I put on some little ass shorts and a tube top, because for one, I wanted MG to be turned on by the sight of me, and two, I wanted him to scold me for wearing this. At this point, I wanted any type of communication that I could get.

  “Noooo!” I heard Michael yell before laughing.

  “What? You said put the chocolate chips in there?” MG quizzed playfully, as I hit the corner to enter the large spacious kitchen. The two of them appeared to be making chocolate chip pancakes.

  “No, we have to measure!” Michael laughed heartily and smiled up at his father.

  “Aww, why you ain’t say that?” MG scooped him up. “Huh? Why you sabotage me?” He began to tickle our son as I watched with a smile.

  MG was such a good father when he wasn’t spending countless hours in the damn studio, or traveling a lot. He used to always offer for me and Michael to come, but I declined every time. I didn’t like being out on the road with him, because every damn thing was about him during that time. I was simply his baby mama there for the ride, and I didn’t like that. I enjoyed being the center of attention, especially if it was male attention.

  “Alright, I’m heading to the mall!” I announced, switching through the kitchen and opening the stainless-steel fridge.

  Looking me up and down, MG asked, “That’s what you’re wearing to the mall? Them shorts and that top?”

  “Yeah, why?” I turned to face him after retrieving the orange juice from the fridge.

  “No reason.” He shook his head and then he and Michael resumed making their pancakes.

  Was he fucking serious right now? Hell no. There had to be something wrong with this nigga. The MG I’d been dealing with for the past few years would have been damn near trying to rip the shorts off of me, and demanding I change clothes.

  I poured myself a glass of juice, and then stood there at the edge of the counter like a third wheel as I drank it down. MG looked up and we made eye contact, but then he took his attention right back down to the pancakes.

  “Who is the bitch?” I inquired. When MG said nothing, I yelled, “Hello, muthafucka! What bitch got you paying no damn attention to me!”

  “Why you cursing in front of him like that?” MG frowned, gesturing towards our son.

  “Because I can, nigga.” Looking down at Michael, I said, “Honey, can you give Mommy and Daddy a few minutes?”

  “But, Mommyyyy!”

  “Michael Gaines, go, right now!” I pointed towards the exiting archway of the kitchen, as MG groaned out of frustration.

  “You do too damn much.”

  “I don’t care. Now answer my question, who is the bitch?”

  “Ain’t no bitch. I do pay attention to yo’ ass, but right now, other shit needs my attention too, like my album, my damn son, and paying all these damn bills you rack up.”

  “Well sometimes your woman’s attention is more important than the bills you pay and the money you throw.”

  “Since when? Ever since I got put on, it seems like giving you shit is the way to keep yo’ ass happy.”

  “Yeah, it does help, but I need attention too. Everything else has been a damn priority lately, except me.” I pointed into my chest.

  Usually, I honestly wouldn’t give a rat’s ass as to why he wasn’t paying me any never mind. Shit, I probably wouldn’t have even noticed, but since I felt like his mother’s claims were starting to ring true, I had to put a halt on them.

  “Well, I’ll try to do better once my album is finished. I’m at the finish line and that needs to stay at the top of the list for now. Ain’t nobody trying to get on Greezy’s bad side.”

  “Whatever.” I turned around and almost ran into my baby boy who was rushing back into the kitchen.

  Getting up into the bedroom, I looked around until I spotted MG’s iPhone on the top of his dresser. Picking it up, I entered the code and went straight to his text messages. I didn’t see anything, which made me grumble because usually that’s where you found the most evidence. The colorful Instagram icon caught my attention, so I went inside and straight to the DM’s.

  The first conversation I saw was with a girl, and I clicked that shit so fast that the iPhone didn’t register it. Hitting it again, I went into the conversation and just scrolled up. They talked so got damn much that I just decided to stop trying to get to the top, and just started reading in the middle.

  They were definitely flirting, and seeing MG tell her she was the prettiest woman he’d ever laid eyes on made me feel some type of way. I never thought I would even care, but I was feeling so incredibly hurt right now.

  I went to her actual page, hoping to see that I looked better than her because that would surely make me feel better, but MG was definitely right about her being beautiful. She had a deep cinnamon complexion with long, dark hair and innocent eyes. Her body was ridiculous, and you could tell she was one of them hoes who just looked that way naturally. I was thrown off by her bio and picture captions being in Spanish, because she looked Black. Feeling sick to my stomach, I dialed Diana up, because I needed her to make me feel better.

  “Hey,” she answered, sounding like she’d just woken up.

  “Bitch.” I went into the bathroom and closed the door. “Micah is fucking around on me.”

  “Yeah right! That man wouldn’t fuck another bitch if she put her pussy right on his dick.”

  “Well he is! At least I think he is. I found some direct messages between him and some girl.” I scrolled through the conversation as I spoke. “And, girl, they talk so damn much. Micah and I didn’t talk this much, even in the beginning stages.”

  “So, what’s the problem? I remember not even a month ago, you told me if you caught him cheating, you wouldn’t care, as long as he kept paying your way.”

  “That was what I thought! But actually seeing this shit bothers me!”

  “So whoop that bitch’s ass, Isla! Find out where she be at, and knock her ass out. What does she look like?”

  “Pretty as fuck, bitch. I think she’s Hispanic though. But the ones that look Black, you know?” I chuckled and so did Diana.

  “Send me a picture.”

  I took my phone from my ear, and went to this Kattlyn chick’s profile on my phone. I screenshot one of her photos and then sent it to Diana through text, before placing the phone back to my face.

  “Oh, okay. … Hmmm, yeah, she’s pretty as hell. She’s too pretty, which means she’s probably dainty as hell and can’t fight.”

  “I know, right!” I laughed.

  I was definitely gonna find her and beat her ass. She wouldn’t know what hit her when I was finished, and she’d definitely leave MG alone. Or even better, her injuries would force MG to leave her alone.

  I talked with Diana for a little bit longer, and then I went downstairs to find MG and Michael. They were in the den eating and watching TV, so I
just decided to leave. I didn’t even wanna say bye because I was angry as hell with MG. However, I didn’t want his ass to know that I had peeped game and figured out what his ass had been doing behind my back.

  Getting into my Range Rover, I just admired how beautiful it was, before pulling out my phone.

  Me: Hey, can I see you?

  Bree: Yeah, come on babe. I’m at my condo.

  I had Butch stored as Bree, because MG snooped too damn much. He didn’t trust anything I said. I could tell him I got shot, and he would want witnesses, the nigga who did it, the gun, the bullet that pierced me, and a professional to tell him the bullet even matched the gun. By saying that, I wasn’t taking any chances by saying Butch was just a friend or anything. I’d already mentioned a girl named Bree that I knew, just so it wouldn’t sound like Bree came out of nowhere.

  I got to Butch’s condo, and when I stepped in, the weed smoke almost made me choke. It was so damn thick that I could barely see.

  “Butch, really?” I frowned, trying to fan some of the smoke out by using his front door.

  “My bad.” He turned the fan on so that it’d blow a little.

  Finally, I was able to walk to the couch and sit next to him. He looked so good sitting there shirtless and in his boxers. I missed him so much. I assumed being around him would make me care less about the situation with MG and that Hispanic bitch, but it didn’t. The thought of them loving on one another in combination with this baby, made me feel beyond nauseous.

  “Can you put that out? I need to talk.”

  “About what?” Butch frowned, ashing it.

  “What do you think about maybe making this official. Micah is messing with somebody right now and—”

  “What? How the fuck you let that shit happen? You supposed to be staying in good with that nigga, so how the fuck he end up straying?” Butch barked, turning a little to stare at me in anger and confusion.

  I was so surprised by his reaction. I mean, I knew he enjoyed the money of MG’s that I gave him, but damn. I’d think he’d be happy about me saying I was gonna leave him.

  “I know, Brandon, but … I …” I could barely speak because I was still so flabbergasted. “I just think it’s time. We have this baby coming and it’s just gonna be weird. Don’t you want to see your child every day, instead of letting another man play daddy to it.”

  “Nah, I’m perfectly fine with that shit! MG got the bread to take care of you, of us, and I don’t. Fuck! You can’t do shit right!” Butch leaned forward and shook his head with a scowl on his face. “Get back in good with him until I can get on. Matter fact, put that pussy on him so good that he agrees to let me get on one of his tracks, per your request.” He turned a little to make eye contact with me.

  “He’s cheating though!” I cried. It was due to a combination of these hormones, finding out MG was fucking around, and then Butch’s reaction right now. How much did Butch really care for me if he was basically telling me to sleep with another man?

  “Well pull his ass back from that. I don’t give a fuck if we gotta kill that bitch, or you have to share his dick. Keep that nigga happy so my pockets can stay fat and so I can get on his album. You got it?”

  I simply nodded.

  “What if he finds out about the baby being yours though, Brandon?”

  “He won’t, right?”

  “No.”

  Chapter Five: Ricky AK

  “Tell me what you gotta tell me and stop pacing, bruh,” I spat at Qamar. This nigga called me frantic as fuck about some shit. Claimed he couldn’t tell me over the fucking phone, and even though I had to be somewhere that was part of my job, I came through for this nigga.

  “Aight, so … Lacie, she … fuck! Man, she’s pregnant.”

  “Fuck do her ass being pregnant got to do with yo’ muthafuckin’ ass?” I frowned, irritated by his constant movement. “Nigga, sit yo’ ass down!”

  “I can’t, man … I umm … I can’t. Aight, so look … I been fucking her for a little minute now, and we went to get a DNA done together and I’m the father.”

  I paused for a minute, staring at this nigga. Since I’d known Qamar, he’d always done dumb shit, and stayed fucking up. Back then, it was whatever, because I was doing dumb shit too, like getting arrested constantly then getting out just to go right fucking back. As we got older though, I tried to slow up on the bullshit because I wasn’t trying to be that old head in jail, reminiscing on the days when he was that nigga.

  I’d always be a gangsta for life, it was embedded in my DNA, but the way I moved was different now; I made sure to cover my tracks if I had just had to be ruthless. I had shit to think about and had to make decisions and moves in a calculated manner. Especially these days since I was gon’ be somebody’s father.

  Qamar, on the other hand, was still making his way through life the same way we did back when we were teenagers. Him fucking another nigga’s wife was nothing, because shit, if the bitch was fine, I’d fuck her too. The problem was whose wife it was.

  Greezy held the reigns over Qamar’s career in the financial department. Not to mention, Greezy was a shady ass nigga. He wasn’t the type to drag yo’ ass on social media or beat you up. Nah, when Greezy came for you, he ruined yo’ life. He was the type of muthafucka that would ruin yo’ credit behind yo’ back and make you lose yo’ job, house, wife, and kids. If you wanted to go against Greezy, ya shit had to be planned out or you’d have to kill him, and I knew Qamar didn’t have a plan, nor was he about to murk Greezy.

  “Wait, nigga, you’ve been fucking Lacie?” I frowned, still in disbelief. Qamar had been on a road of destruction for a little minute now, but I was still surprised as fuck. “Nigga, are you stupid?”

  “I didn’t expect the shit to get this far!” he hollered, finally pausing in his pacing.

  “So uh, what should I do? You think we can get some more of those abortion pills or some shit? Like the ones you gave old girl?”

  “Aight, first off, I told you that shit in confidence, and I know yo’ muthafuckin’ ass ain’t stupid enough to go around repeating the shit, right?” I glared at him, and he exhaled while shaking his head. “Secondly, I did that shit because I knew that bitch was a bop, she wouldn’t back the fuck off, and the shit for sure wasn’t mine. You, on the other hand, know for a fact this kid is yours, bruh.”

  “I don’t want it though, so I don’t give a fuck! Give me ya doctor’s number, bruh.”

  “Qamar, when is the last time you took yo’ damn medicine?” I rose to my feet.

  “I got better, and I don’t need the shit no more. I told yo’ ass that. Aye, but look, shit is gon’ be good once I give her those fucking pills, right?” He damn near jumped up and down, and gripped my shoulders with excitement. Whenever Qamar got like this, I knew he was off his meds. He either got super fucking depressed, or way too damn overjoyed about some shit to the point where it was weird as fuck.

  “Qamar, where is ya medicine, man?” I spoke calmly.

  “I don’ fucking told you that I’m done with that shit! My fucking lyrics be off and my flow be weak as fuck when I’m on it!”

  “You need to work through that shit! You’ve done it before! Nigga, you doing too damn much! You talking about killing a baby inside of crazy ass Greezy’s wife, you put an eighteen-year-old girl in a coma because she wouldn’t fuck you, like you ain’t never had a piece of pussy in ya life, and Bia—”

  “Bia? When the fuck you talk to my bitch?” His face knotted as his palms balled up at his sides like he was about to hit me.

  “Don’t worry about all that. She just told me you was on some bullshit, and she’s right.”

  “Man, fuck her nosey ass.” He waved it off.

  “Be happy she gives a fuck, nigga. When she stops complaining and going in on yo’ ass, is when it’s a wrap. Realize that. You need to be making life easier for her before she finds a nigga who will.”

  “Oh, you think because you been in one damn relationship that didn’t even la
st, you got all the fucking answers, huh?” He snickered, sniffling a little bit. “Talk to Bia again, nigga, and I’ll whoop yo’ ass.” He neared me.

  Now if this was any other nigga, I would have put his ass to sleep a long time ago. But since this was my nigga, and he was just off his rocker right now, I was gon’ let that shit slide, but only for so long. Qamar was off his meds, but he was well aware of what he was doing.

  “Aight, I’m gone.” I moved around him. “Nigga, move!”

  WHAM!

  He shoved me and then swung on me, but he missed, so I socked the shit out of his ass. He stumbled back up against his bar and to the ground, before quickly hopping back up and pulling his gun out on me.

  “Make another move, nigga,” he gritted, gun pointed right in my face and pressing up against the bridge of my nose.

  “Oh, so since you can’t win in a fight, you gotta pull ya gun out, huh?” I grinned.

  “Quit acting like you ain’t scared right now, bitch!” he roared, but I remained calm.

  “You right, Q, I’m scared,” I lied for his sake.

  “That’s what the fuck I thought.” He put the gun up. “So now, where you about—”

  “Make that the last muthafuckin’ time you pull a gun on me and don’t use it, nigga. Next time, I’m murking yo’ ass, and that’s on my dead grandpa’s grave, Qamar. We cool, and I love yo’ stupid ass, but I’ll kill you before I let you disrespect me. We clear?”

  He was frowning, but his face changed immediately.

  “Yeah. … Aye, let me come with you.”

  “Nah, this is a work event and you ain’t in ya right mind.” Before he could say anything else, I was out the door.

  I called Qamar’s mother when I was in the car to tell her about her son, and then after that, I was on my way.

  I had to be at this day club party, another way to promote the album. I was doing the heaviest promotion out here in L.A. because, even though I was a household name, most of my fans were from my hometown. They’d been riding with me since I was releasing mixtapes on SoundCloud and other sites.