ARE YOU DOWN
Chapter 5 : The Morning After
Riqo Point Of View
Three weeks.
Three whole weeks since I seen her.
Three whole weeks of my calls gettin' ignored, my messages sittin' on read.
I ain't the type of nigga to chase, but Juicy? She was different. She had me twisted, had me mad as hell, had me missing her. And I wasn't used to that.
So when I walked into the club that night, my mind was on business—handle my meeting, get in, get out. That was the plan.
But then I saw her.
Laughin'. Smilin'. Lookin' too damn good.
And sittin' across from some nigga who ain't know what the fuck he was doin'.
My whole body went hot, my hands already twitchin'. The dude leaned in close, whisperin' in her ear, and she ain't push him away fast enough.
Nah. Fuck that.
I ain't think twice. I pulled the Glock from my waistband and aimed it right at his head.
The club damn near stopped.
Gasps, screams, chairs scrappin'. But I ain't hear none of that. My eyes were locked on Juicy.
"Get yo' ass up," I growled, my voice deadly calm.
Her eyes went wide, flickin' from me to the gun. "Riqo, chill—"
I cocked the pistol. "Ain't no chill. Either you get yo' ass in my car, or I'ma put a hole in this nigga."
The dude threw his hands up, stutterin' somethin' about how he ain't want no problems. But I ain't give a fuck about him.
Juicy stood up fast, her chest heaving. "You doin' too much right now."
I jerked my chin toward the door. "Move."
She let out a frustrated sigh, but she started walkin'. I followed right behind her, my grip still tight on the piece. I wasn't lettin' up.
By the time we got to the car, she spun on me, her face twisted in anger. "You lost yo' damn mind!"
I yanked the door open. "Get in the car, Juicy."
She hesitated, her jaw clenching. But she knew better than to push me right now. She got in, slammin' the door, and I walked around, gettin' in on my side.
Silence sat heavy between us.
Then—
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!"
I gripped the wheel, my jaw tight. "You got me fucked up, that's what's wrong with me."
"Oh, I got you fucked up? Nigga, you just pulled a GUN in the middle of a club over some dumb shit!"
I turned to her, my eyes burnin' into hers. "Ain't shit dumb about it. You sittin' up all cozy with some nigga like you ain't mine."
She let out a bitter laugh, foldin' her arms. "I ain't yours, Riqo."
I reached over quick, my hand goin' straight to her throat, grippin' it just enough to make her gasp.
"The fuck you just say?" I growled, my face inches from hers.
Her breathing picked up, but she ain't back down. "I said I ain't yours."
I squeezed just a little, makin' her lips part. "You really think that?"
