Dire Lust 2 [Book 2]

Three

Atika

By five o'clock the next morning, I definitely paid for ignoring Dee's attempts to get my attention.

She yelled and banged her hands against the steering wheel as she drove at eighty miles an hour down the street.

"You treat me like shit, and I don't like it! Respect me, man! That's all I want."

We were in a heated discussion as we rode home in her 2013 blacked out Tahoe.

"What the fuck do you want me to do, Dee?! I'm a stripper! It's my job to talk to people and get money. Not talk to yo'ass all night!"

"But you can talk to that nigga all night?!"

"What nigga?!"

I was playing dumb, but I knew who she was talking about. She was talking about Jared.

Without even thinking, I'd spent nearly two hours at his table. We drank and talked shit. It wasn't on purpose. Somehow, I was just drawn into him.

He had such an interesting story. I'm sure the Don Julio was to blame for his openness, but he was so up front with how broke he was and that he was currently homeless and living out of a motel.

He said that he'd just moved to New Orleans from Philly. He'd bought two bricks to flip and his roommate robbed him.

He grew up as a ward of the state. Therefore, he didn't have any family to run to when he was forced to leave Philly for the same reasons.

That's a story you don't hear every day. In a strip club, men give you the same story; crazy baby mama, nagging wife, rich dope boy, or rap star dreams.

I was so drawn into the difference in this young cutie that I regretfully forgot that my "security" was watching me.

"You know what nigga I'm talking about! Don't play with me!" Dee was so angry that she was gritting her teeth while giving me her full attention, not the road.

The truck began to swerve out of our lane.

"Pay attention to the road!" She ignored me, continuing to glare at me with fire in her eyes. She was so upset that her pale skin was turning red.

"Who is he?!"

"I don't know him!"

"WHO THE FUCK IS HE?!"

The driver of the car passing us on our left blew the horn because Dee damn near collided with him.

She finally took control of the steering wheel and gave the road her full attention.

"Are you seriously arguing with me over a nigga at the club?! You've got to be kidding me!"

Tears were in my eyes. "I can't do this shit no more!"

Officially, I was done. There was no use in staying in this relationship any longer.

I was unhappy, and she did nothing to make it any better. She was too fucking delusional.

No matter what, we would consistently end up in arguments like this because there was something wrong in her that I could not fix, nor was I willing to.

She had some serious mental issues that needed professional help. She saw my tears, and she knew. She saw my surrender towards this relationship.

At five in the morning, with the feeling of dollar bills still against my skin, with the stench of smoke still in my hair, I was so done with this relationship.

Jared showed me that. I didn't even know him. But as he sat there and told me that he was broke and homeless, I envied him. I was willing to give anything to be in his position, rather than feeling Dee's burning brown eyes glaring at me from the corner like a pedophile.