by Quan Millz
“It was just a mistake, sir! And you know that! But I think you just messin’ with me ‘cuz I know the truth!”
“Truth about what?” he asked with a raised brow. Now I could see I had piqued this fuck nigga’s interest!
"You 'memba how you said you did your homework onhomeworkon me?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, I been did my homework on you.” I pulled out my cell phone from my purse. I already had the video loaded, ready to play. “You been fuckin’ my girl, Jessica.”
“Excuse me?” he said with a gulp then pursed his long lips. “What are you talking about?” he asked as he emerged from his seat and strolled up to me. His eyes turned to slits.
I played the video…
Chapter Thirteen
“Yeah, keep suckin’ that shit, you nasty, lil bitch you. Yeah, wrap that tongue around that head. Ughh huh. Now work on them balls. Oooh! Ooh! Ooh! Careful though…Damn you can suck a dick, guhl.”
“ENOUGH!” Pastor Wilson growled as he suddenly yanked me by my shirt collar and pulled me into him. “Where the fuck did you get that video from, bitch?” His grip got tighter and now I could feel his hot breath blazing on my face and neck.
“LET ME GO!” I yelled and suddenly tried to fight him off me. “Get your fuckin’ hands off me, nigga!” I tried to get away from his ass!
“Don’t run! Get back here!” he yelled and yanked back into him, but this harder. Felt like the nigga was ready to beat my ass. But I was NOT about to let this senior citizen put his fuckin’ hands on me! Oh no! This nigga got me fucked up! He got the right one today!
“Now keep yo goddamn mouth shut!” he said quickly looking around. “Now don’t fuck with me! Where you get this video?!?”
“Oh, why you want me to be quiet?!? ‘Cuz you don’t want nobody to know yo dirt, you lyin’ ass muhfucka! Fake ass Christian! I knew you was a fake from the day my eyes laid on yo pimp daddy preacher ass!”
Pastor Wilson froze and didn’t say anything for a moment. “So, she sent you this video?!? How you even get this? Don’t mess with me!” he asked in a heavy, threatening growl.
“Uh huh! Now it’s all coming out, huh!” I exclaimed with a big smile on my face. I just knew I had this nigga now! CLOWN ASS!
“Please! Just ANSWER the question.”
“You sent it to her through SnapChat and yo old ass thought the video would just disappear after a certain amount of time! You didn’t think you could actually use another app to download the video, huh?!?”
“God-fuckin’-damn it!” he roared. Suddenly, he let me go and ran toward his office door. He locked it and then ran back up to me.
“So, what do you want?” He threw his hands up in the air and said, “FINE! You can have your lil raggedy ass volunteer position back! You want a raise, too?!?” Fuck nigga shivered with fear. His hands were on his waist as he kept a menacing gawk locked onto me.
I laughed out loud! “No, no, no…No, fuck that job. Nigga, you gon pay me big fuckin’ time! Nigga, I want three-hunned THOU!”
Pastor’s face scrunched into disgust as he looked me up and down. “Bitch! You CRAY-ZAY as HELL if you think I’m finne pay yo nasty hoe ass $300,000! Are you high?!? Where in the hell you think I’m gonna get that kind of money from?!?”
“Your campaign, nigga! I know you got it! White people stay givin’ you they money!”
Pastor lowered and shook his head. “You nasty lil devilish bitch you…I oughta…”
“OUGHTA WHAT?!?”
He froze and kept staring at me. His eyes by now were bloodshot red. I stared right back at his ass. But the more I looked into his eyes, the more I realized they were yellowish-looking. Damn, this nigga looked like an alcoholic.
“So what do you plan on doing with the video?” he asked in a low, deep voice. “I assume you gon try to expose me now, huh. Try to ruin my life? You young bitches, I swear…Should’ve never messed with that guttersnipe!”
“Yup! I’m finne put yo ass on blast, fuck nigga! But you can avoid ALL’DAT if you just run me my shit! Then I’ll be out ya life. Oh, and also, you can make sure I get ALL of my community serice hours, too.”
“$300,000, huh?” “Where’d you get that number from?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “A good lawyer gon be expensive, right? And I can’t dance no more…Can’t sell pussy either…”
“I’ll handle that…” Pastor snickered. “That is the lawyer part.”
Hrrrm. Yeah, yo ass can’t handle this lil pussy , old nigga. That was what I should’ve said. I thought for a second…“Okay, but I still want $300,000…DASSIT!”
“No!” he protested. “See, yo young ass is too unrealistic. $300,000 is a lot. How about $150,000 and I’ll give you a condo. You won’t have to pay anything on it.”
“Nah!”
“BITCH! LOOK! I’m trying to work wit yo ass! $150,000 in cash! You not even thinkin’. If I just give you such a large sum of money up front, I’m gon have to explain it to the IRS. I’ll get in trouble – and so will you, sillaz hoe! Remember…You don’t have shit. I do. I’m an attorney. I know the law. I am the law. And I got people in high places. Just take my offer. Trust me, lil girl…”
My mouth dropped. I didn’t know what else to say. Honestly, I was kind of bullshitting about the $300,000. Shit, just $20,000 and maybe that Rolex on his wrist would be fine. But this nigga was still talking mad bread. I ain’t stupid. I’m ‘bout to take his offer!
“Okay, FINE DEN! $150,000. Can I get that in writing?”
“How will I know you don’t have other versions of this video?”
“Oh, trust me, my word is my bond. I ain’t no fuckin’ snitch if you ridin’ with me. Is you ridin’?”
The Pastor’s face twisted into confusion for a second. “Sure? I guess…” The Pastor’s eyes grew redder in terror. This nigga looked mortified!
“Okay, cool, so when can I get my funds? I need my shit ASAP! PRONTO, PASTOR!” I stuck my right hand out and rolled my neck.
“Let’s get this over with ASAP. I’m gonna text you a place to meet up at.”
“Okay…”
“What’s your number?” he asked as he pulled out his cell phone from his pocket.
“773-985-7854,” I quickly replied. “I want this shit in writing, too,” I said.
“Oh, trust me…It will be in writing…”
“Bet!” Just before I was about to run out the door, I lunged up on him and pecked a kiss on his cheek. “You smell good by the way.” His eyes widened in surprise. “Toodles! See ya later!” I said as I took off out of his office.
Chapter 14
See, this how you hoes out there supposed to come up. Get it how you live, bitch! Learn how to finesse a nigga – especially if a nigga was on some fuck shit.
Pastor Wilson’s stupid ass didn’t see any of this shit coming at all. I had his ass running scared. Now, granted, I could’ve handled things a different way, but I’d be damned if I was just gonna let that nigga cut me off and not even give me a second chance. I mean, that was just so vicious and uncalled for! What I did wasn’t even foul at all.
So what I thought he was asking for sex?!? It was a crazy assumption – yeah! But ya’ll already know how men be! Niggas love pussy! ALL MEN DO. White! Black. Ayrab! Indian! Even Chinese. Even with they lil dick selves – regardless of race, men love pussy. Unless, of course, if they gay – then they love dick. But then they gay asses be likin’ boy pussy, too! Look, all I’m saying is, a bitch had to do what a bitch had to do. Everything was on the line.
Granted, Losing out on $400 a week wasn’t shit to be doing all this extraness. And truth be told, if I learn how to move a lil bit better, I could’ve gone back to dancing and linking up wit niggas. And shit, one of my other girls, Quita, told me I should look into do Premium snaps. Even webcam modeling. Oh, then there was the possibility of getting into porn. But, bitch, fuck alldat. Hoe, I just got $150,000 in CASH coming my way from a Pastor caught lackin’!
&nbs
p; Truth be told, this entire last month and a half was moving very fast for me. I guess this was a blessing in a disguise. But that was how it was in the streets. Shit don’t slow down for nobody. You got to be ready to make moves and be ready to kill to survive. In my case, finesse to survive!
After I left the church I quickly ran back to my crib. I was expecting a text from Pastor Wilson sooner or later.
By now it was almost eight pm. I was stretched out in my bed watching TV, just waiting for a text. Even a phone call. Damn, what was taking dude so long?!?
My phone suddenly started vibrating. Hopefully, it was him. I grabbed my phone lying next to the side of me and glanced down. I rolled my eyes. It was my mama.
“What do you want?” I answered.
“Hey, daughter…”
I rolled my eyes again. “Yes??? How can I help you this evening…Mother?”
She exhaled. “You know…I was just thinkin’…” She paused. “Look…I think we just let all this get too damn far. I know said some things. Did some things. And I apologize for not paying you back. I decided I’m not gonna try to get full custody over Quay. That ain’t right.”
I froze. Was this a mind game she was trying to play on me. “Ma…For real?”
“I’m serious, NuNu…”
I fell silent and slowly shook my head. I didn’t believe her.
“You know…I know…” Her voice got light and began to crack. This was weird for me to admit to, but for the first time ever, I swear to God, it sounded as if I was about to hear my mother cry… “Look, now, I know I ain’t been the best mother to you. I know I made you go through some things. I’m sorry for all that. I’m just still tryin’ to make it. I just wasn’t prepared, you know, as a woman to raise you.”
I closed my eyes and tried hard to fight tears. Wow. I didn’t even know what to feel hearing her express herself to me this way. I started to feel bad. My chest tightened. I could feel a tear almost escape my left eye.
“You still there?” she asked.
“Yeah…I’m here…,” I said. I couldn’t help it now. The tears were flowing down my face.
She began to sniffle. I tightened my face again, trying so hard to fight back the want to just let go. Why was she doing this to me right now? Why?!? Deep down, as much as I hated my mama, I knew that I loved her. How couldn’t I? She was just tryin’ to make it like everyone else. She made her mistakes. I made mines. That was life.
“I just thought doin’ all this will show you that I really love you and I don’t want you out there doin’ the stuff I used to do. I pray for you every night. I really do…”
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. I felt my phone vibrate. I glanced down at my phone with my teary gaze and saw I got a text from a 312 number. “Hold on, mama,” I said. I heard her say, “Okay…”
I read the text…
312-858-9969: Meet me at the Woodrow Inn on 79th ST. Room is already book. 357 is the room number. Be there promptly at 10:30 PM. No one else can come. Wear something nice.
“Mama, I gotta go,” I muttered.
“Give me a call later, okay?”
“Okay, mama…”
She paused for a moment and then said, “Love you.”
“Love you, too,” I responded and wiped my face free of tears.
“Hopefully, we’ll talk later…,” mama uttered.
“We will. I’ll call. I promise.”
“Okay. Stay safe, girl…”
“I will…”
I hung up the phone.
Chapter 15
Once I hung up the phone, I quickly had to get that weak shit out of my system. Fuck whatever the fuck that bitch was talkin’ ‘bout anyways.
I rolled my eyes then wiped my face, shaking off whatever little emotion or love I had for that woman. Fuck her! She was probably just trying to figure out a way how to get over on me. Cry all you want to, hoe. Whatever! Yeah, I’ll call her ass back later aiight.
I quickly got up from my bed and took a shower. I found me a bomb ass, sexy ass outfit to wear. Pastor said he wanted me to wear something ‘nice’ – whatever the fuck that meant. I didn’t know why! I hope this nigga didn’t think he was gonna take me out to eat or some shit – let alone try to fuck me!
I wasn’t just gonna leave the house lookin’ any ole way though. Shit, I gotta be on bad bitch mode twenty-four seven. So, I threw on a black leather Gucci bodysuit and some matching some stilettos. Then, I threw on this blonde lacefront bob I just bought not too long ago. Bitch, within fifteen, I had did the fuck out my makeup! Once I had my lashes loaded and poppin’, I was ready to go get my shit from that old, lyin’ ass nigga.
Oh, before I forget – ‘cuz a bitch nor a nigga will never catch me lackin’ in the streets – I ran back to my bedroom closet, rummaged a shoebox and got my glock. In case that nigga was gonna be on some other shit, I was ready to pop his ass!
Once I checked myself in the mirror for one last time, I got downstairs and hopped in my ride. I chucked up the engine. Nothing.
“FUCK! Really?” UGHH! I drove a 2012 Altima. It only had like 100,000 miles on it but this shit was acting like my old Malibu I had some years back. And I drove that bitch down to 300,000! So what the fuck?!? I tried to start the car engine up again. NOTHING! The engine sounded as if it was trying to throw up after eating some bad crab legs. Speaking of which, I could eat me about three pounds of some king crab right now. Especially with some B-Love sauce! Yass bitch! But that bitch be doin’ the most.
ANYWAYS.
“START THE FUCK UP! COME ON, NAH!” I screamed as I tried to start the car up again for one last time. “UGHHH!” I screamed. I quickly pulled out my phone and pulled up the Lyft app. By now it was 9:45. I could make it down to 79th street in no time. Maybe like a good fifteen minutes once a Lyft got here. I ordered a ride and within five minutes, some fat, old ass, Hispanic-looking man in a Honda Accord came and got me.
***
Pastor Wilson sent me another text while I was on my way. He told me that he was already at the hotel waiting for me. I shot him back a text saying I would be there within ten. It was now 10:20 PM. It was dark as fuck outside. Even windy. Although it was early October, you could tell winter was right around the corner.
We pulled up to the Motel. Following his instructions, I shot right up to the third floor. The motel was similar to the nasty shit I was in when I got popped not too long ago. This one looked a bit more decent though.
I walked down the hallway looking for room 357. There were a few people out and about, lingering around their doors. The entrances to peoples’ rooms were on the outside, so there were a few niggas here and there smoking blunts and cigs.
“Hey, you sellin?” some old ass man asked me as I sauntered by. “Eww! Fuck no!” I quickly said and shot him a nasty ass stare.
“Fuck you then, bitch!”
“No! Fuck you!” I replied and kept walking on. I got to room 357, looked around and knocked.
“Hold on…” Pastor Wilson’s loud, deep growl boomed through the door. Then the door opened. “Come in. You not with anyone, right?”
“No,” I said as I looked him up and down. He yanked me inside the room and then looked outside for a moment, checking that no one else was with me. Then he slammed the door. He quickly threw on the locks, closed the curtains and then walked over to me.
“Sit down,” he demanded. He was still dressed in the same shit from earlier.
“No.” I rolled my neck. “I’m ready to get this shit over with. Where is the contract and the fucking money?”
“Girl, if you don’t sit down…”
I scrunched my face and asked, “Where?”
“On the damn bed! Shit!”
“FINE!” I sat down. I glanced at him as he walked over to a small black fridge next to the TV. “You know…for someone who calls himself a Pastor, you sure do a lot of shady ass shit. You curse. Fuck hoes on the side. Cheat on your wife. You probably stealin’ the church’s money. What other type of shady shit you i
nto? Shit, you probably gay…”
“Bitch, shut the fuck up,” he replied and smacked his teeth. “You want something to drink? I got some Vanilla Hennessey and Peach Crown Royal.”
I froze. Damn. This nigga was showing a different side. Shit was aggressive as hell. Bossy. That shit was kind of savage. But this nigga must’ve thought I was stupid. Why the fuck would I want to drink anything from his ass?!?
“No. I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“You want weed? I got a bag…”
My mouth dropped. “PASTOR! You smoke weed?”
“Who the hell doesn’t?!? I got a bad back. And insomnia. It helps me sleep. Shit, you don’t smoke?”
“Here and there…”
“Well, I got a lil somethin’ if you wanna smoke.”
I thought about it for a moment. Hell, why not. “Sure. I’ll have a drink, too. You not trying to poison me though, is you?”
“Look…Just relax. You’ll get your money.” He looked over at a round table in the corner of the room. There were three briefcases sitting on top of it. “There’s your shit, okay?”
“Okay…”
“So, just chill, have a drink and let’s smoke. Besides, I got something else for you.”
I gulped and grabbed my purse. I rubbed my gun. “What’s that?”
Chapter 16
“I have another proposition. I’ll up your payment. To $200,000…If—”
“IF WHAT?!?” I interrupted him.
“If…you let me taste you. I wanna lick yo lil pussy,” Pastor Wilson smiled. “Shit…Why lie? From the moment I saw you, I was gonna get my hands on you anyways. You made my dick harder than a slave’s life from the moment my eyes laid on yo sexy, thick ass. You much better looking than Jessica’s stank ass.”
