The Come Up (Book II) : PRODIGY

Chapter 20 - This isn't Brownsville

"Are you serious?" Trisha's voice echoed off the mansion walls. She held her sparkly silver clutch and walked over to Chanel, still in her heels. She helped take off Chanel's right shoe. 

"Yea, I know it was Bizzy and his bitchass niggas." I said, as I pulled off Chanel's left shoe. 

Flex locked the door behind him after letting Emil storm pass. 

"This nigga is bold as fuck, and pussy. He couldn't fight you himself?" Emil spat.

"That nigga know I'll fuck him up." I retorted. 

Chanel groaned and placed her head on the back of the couch. Trisha moved the hair out of her face and rubbed her arm. I looked back at Emil who was so heated, someone could probably scramble some eggs on his face. 

The thought of the pain reminds me of my own stinging wounds. I wiped my nose and winced at the discomfort then gradually got nauseated looking at the blood on my wrist. I would say the blood is from my nose but I'm not even sure what's bleeding exactly. 

"You been talking to those boys? Cause I know how you get and the last thing you need is hood niggas after you for a situation that's already settled." Flex spoke authoritative, like he was for sure our Father. 

" I haven't said shit to the nigga. He tight Chanel mine and was looking at her like I wasn't sitting right next to her." I answered. 

"But who is up in Chanel house taking care of her drunk ass?" Flex questioned. "YOU." He answered his own question. 

"So it doesn't matter how he was lookin at her-" I cut Flex off. 

"First of all, it does matter and don't act like you wouldn't get tight if some nigga who already disrespected you was staring at Ms. Sasha. Either way I'm tryna tell you I ain't say nothin to Bizzy or his boys." I stated firmly. 

"Look we got you lawyers for a reason, the record label has lawyers for a reason. It's not about to be too pretty for Bizzy. We gotta amp up security at the rest of the events and shows you have the next few months, at least until we have a story on whats happening. Chanel's security needs to be amped up to. Do you want to press charges?" Flex questioned staring down at me on the couch. 

"Nah, I'm bout to press that nigga myself." I finished. 

"Just say when." Emil assured. 

"If either one of you touch him, you gon have to answer to me. This ain't Brownsville." Flex didn't waste time calling out the hoodrats in us. But it didn't matter what Flex said, if I see Bizzy it's onsight. 

Chanel groaned and wrapped her arm around her stomach. 

"Let me take her up to bed." I cleared my throat and pushed myself off the couch. A sharp pain ran up my side and I winced. Trisha caught the reaction and was by my side quickly. 

"I can take her." She shrugged, not trying to make a big deal of it and knowing that my pride would reject her offer. 

"I'm good. I'm good." I motioned for Trisha to get away from me. 

Careful and effortlessly, I took the drunken beauty into my arms and continued up the stairs, her head and her feet dangled. I placed Chanel on her large soft bed and closed the door, locking us into the room. I could hear the mumbling and the bickering still going on downstairs. But hasn't it been a long enough night? I didn't even want anyone else in this house anymore. Not right now. Not while so much anger and tiredness was built up in me.