𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐆

95

On the entire ride there, Chyna never took off her glasses. Even when it got dark, she switched for some thick framed glasses but when I caught a quick glimpse of her eye when she was pumping gas at some random gas station on the way up from Georgia, I saw the scratch across her cheek from where that dude slapped her.

I felt pity for her. As much of a bad bitch persona that she put on when we first met in the beginning, it was all starting to crack at the seams. From arguing to Rich on the phone to doing sideways deals with Blu, to the murder of Ramirez. It was starting to look like Chyna was neck deep in the shit for her nigga and she was beginning to drown.

I tried to make small talk with her, break the ice and all that shit, but she just wasn't having any of that. It must have been something else that came up between everything else because not only was she super shut -off, she was constantly checking her phone for some kind of notification. Some kind of text or call but she wasn't getting anything from anyone it seemed.

Blu wasn't fucking with her neither was Rich. I think the only person that was really fucking with her was Cut and, surprisingly, as soon as we hit the road, all the phone calls stopped per usual. At this specific point in time, I didn't even care if he felt me pull away because, after sitting with Blu and just seeing the effort and the time spent, even if it wasn't Blu, it made me see a nigga is capable. And the fact that a nigga is capable made me realize how people can choose to be incapable. And with that being said, I'm about to move the fuck on. Money or not, this shit is a done deal.

There was something on my mind about Blu that I couldn't shake too much. That nagging feeling in the back of my head that just... continued to talk to me. Although Blu and I kept our word to keep shit real and to be open about whatever, it still sat in the back of my head his whole... initial move towards me. To me, watching him with an eagle eye, the shit doesn't even match up. And the more I tried to look in between the lines of his entire speech.

Blu, I feel like you're lying about when you did that shit back at the hotel.

Why would I lie? The shit was already fucked up and I eat that shit every day. what's making you feel that way now?

Because it's like this shit not no movie or no book. This my whole life and you wanted to be romantic? By slicing an eight ball so I can get drugged out? The only way I feel like even in your mind that this was okay is if someone told you "Okay, this how you pull a bitch." Did someone tell you this was a plan that works?

...

Blu can you answer me?

It's not that.

Then what is it? I could have died. Do you realize that? If someone got in your ear and told you that this was some kind of fucking fantasy then tell me right now so I can blast their ass...

Nah... it wasn't nobody... it was me.

I don't believe you that's my thing.

I need you to believe me... it was all me. And I'll accept the fact there's gonna be a part of you that will always hate me for that shit. It was all me. Aiight?

... Whatever you say Blu.

Something in my spirit told me that it wasn't just him but my question was who are you protecting Blu? Who's worth it like that? Was it cut? Was it Chyna? Shit, was it rich? Why are you keeping this shit a secret from me?

I wonder...

the music was low and playing an old Faith Evans song that relaxed me. Had me reminiscing and shit. I didn't bother to keep talking to Chyna since she didn't seem to be much up on conversation anyway nor was Blu texting me back which, well I had to kind of take for the moment due to things being so tightly wound around the other, I couldn't throw anyone off track that I was sneaking around with Blu. Then another wave of suspicion ran over me: what fi Chyna already know and nobody is telling me anything? I'll say this, that's some fucked up shit if people think I'm just some dummy who can't piece shit together. I'd rather appreciate a muhfucka keeping it real with me than leave me to put all the puzzle pieces together just to be missing a piece at the very end.

But then again, at this point, just watching everything unfold and switch and turn at the drop of a dime with these people, the best thing for me to do is to just keep my ducks in a row and not be a sitting one.

I got this sudden urge in me that I was about to throw up and pee that made me finally speak up.

"Chyna, can we stop somewhere? I gotta pee."

Chyna took a pause, looked at her phone for a split second and then pressed some buttons on the touchpad.

"We're actually almost to the club we supposed to be going to. Luckily its right next to a Walgreens. Is that cool with you?"

"Yeah, that's fine, I'll stop in and meet you at the club."

"Cool with me."

-

I walked out of Walgreens with snacks, an antacid, sparkling water, and a pregnancy test. I figured it would be better safe than sorry and just fish out the money for an abortion if it is the case that I'm pregnant. Chyna decided to park over at Walgreens and told me to come inside when I got settled but I could spot from the outside that the shit probably never saw a slow night since it's been open.

The line was wrapped around the corner and at the entrance were two big ass samurai that crossed knives at the front door of the club. All type of women walked in and out of the club, nothing short of bad. Chyna had on a tight body suit and Chanel sneakers but me on the other hand rocked some sweats and a baby tee. I wasn't about to embarrass myself when you got all these ballers and shit posted up in the parking lot.

I hopped back into the truck, stuffed the pregnancy test in my suitcase next to my letter to Skooby, and called Blu on Facetime.

It was just two short rings and he answered.

"Hey, ma. Y'all made it?"

"Yeah, we actually just pulled up to the club..."