CHAPTER THREE
"I may seem like the model, perfect, trophy wife, but there's a lot more to me than that. A whole lot more."
-- Charlotte
I blow out a hard frustrated sigh, a way of letting Quadir know to wrap his conversation up with Dre. I hate coming to Bond Richmond Park. The only reason I'm here now is because Quadir heard through word of mouth that Dre's fake-ass was here. I can't stand him!
He was scared as shit when Qua pulled the fire out on his ass. That was the most funniest shit I've seen in a couple days.
I hold my fingers up, examining my fresh manicure. I really wish he'll hurry up. I'll hate to be seen in this dirty ass park. I loudly sigh before putting my head out of the window.
"Quadir!" I holler. His back is turned to me as he continues to talk about bullshit. I know he heard me.
"Quadir!" I yell out again.
He turn around with a annoyed look on his face. "What!"
"Nigga, you know what! I'm ready to go!" I shout, giving him as much attitude I can throw.
He give me a hard stare before turning back around to finish his boring ass conversation. I roll my eyes at Dre who's grinning at me.
Whatever. Like I said, he better hurry that shit up.
I reach in my Fendi bag and pull out my cell phone. I have three missed text messages from Gena, my sister; Bria, my best friend since high school; and Jordan, my manager.
I ignore Bria's and Gena's texts 'cause they usually don't want anything and went straight to Jordan's text.
Got you a shoot with King Magazine. THAT'S RIGHT, KING MAGAZINE, BABY! We've come a long way from camera phones and disposable cameras. LOL! I'll call you later with more info.
I scream to the top of my lungs at the news, making everybody around the car look at me like I've lost my damn mind, but I don't give a damn. This is what I've been waiting for.
But I'm snatched out of my happy world when I spot Quadir talking to some girl with weave past her butt and shorts all up in her ass. I was so busy reading the text, I didn't even notice this bitch walk up. I open my door, stepping my Chanel's on Richmond's filthy ground.
"What the fuck, Quadir?" I say, walking up to them.
The girl smirks while tossing her horse hair over her shoulder. Dre shakes his head before giving Qua dap.
"Aye, get 'dat shit straight, cuz. I'm out," Dre said. He jumps in the Chevrolet that he loves more than his own momma and drive away, the bass of his music following him. The dudes that was around him walks away.
Quadir grab my hand, guiding me back to the car. "Get back in the car, Letta," he says calmly, using the nickname only he calls me.
I shook his hand from mine. "No! I'm not about to sit in the car while you disrespect me in front of all these people."
He reach around me and open the door. "Get back in the fuckin' car, Letta."
I roll my eyes before doing what he says. He walk around the car and get in.
"I'll be sure to use that number you gave me, Quadir," the bitch say, her eyes on me while she's talking.
Quadir shakes his head before pulling off, not bothering to respond. I pull out my phone and text Jordan back. I can't help but smile from ear to ear as I'm typing:
OMG! I can't explain how excited I am! Yes, you're right. We've come a VERY long way. Haha! How did you pull this off?
I send the text and lock my phone. I'm really shocked at the news and can't wait to tell Bria about this.
"Who the fuck was that?"
I look over at Quadir, almost forgetting he was over there.
I suck my teeth before talking to him with my finger pointing in his face. "Who the fuck was that bitch you was talkin' to?"
He let out a sigh. "Man, Letta don't start."
"Man, Lettta don't start, my ass," I mock him under my breath.
He look from the road to me quickly. "What?"
I suck my teeth again. "Nothing."
My phone chimes, letting me know I have a text. I open it.
Message from Jordan:
Never question my managing ability's, Charlotte.
I giggle while turning my phone to the side to reply on the touch screen keyboard. Before I could touch a letter, Quadir snatch my phone from my hand and throw it behind him. The phone flies into the back window, making a crack appear instantly.
I push him. "What the fuck is wrong with you! You just cracked my fuckin' window!"
"You think I'ma just let you text another nigga in my face?"
He mush my head to the window beside me while keeping one hand on the wheel.
I reach out, grabbing a hold to his face with my acrylic nails. I squeeze hard until he yells out in pain.
He then grabs me by my hair, pulling me down to the arm rest. I feel the car swerving left to right. I turn my head to the side and bite his arm, drawing blood.
"Ahh!" He yell while letting go of my hair.
I sit back up, finger combing my locks. Suddenly, Quadir back hand slap me quickly as he get back in the right lane. My head hit the window hard, my face burning with a hot sensation. I turn my body to the side, making my back rest on the passanger's door. I kick Qua in his head and side with my stilettos.
We're like Ike and Tina in the limo. He beat my ass a bit. I whoop his a bit more. That's the way our love story go. My momma always told me, 'If somebody hit you, hit they ass back'. And every time Quadir lay a hand on me, I do just that.
Every. Single. Time.
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A / N :
If you're here, it means you've read the first two pages before this one. Thank you :)
To be honest, I don't really take this story seriously. It was just something I had stuck in my head a while, so I'm just letting it out. If you like it, GREAT. If you dont, OH WELL. Either way, you still read it.
Uploading more soon, and I'm also in the process of editing so please excuse errors.
