Kennedie
I sit up and look around. I look to the left of me and sigh. He'a gone. I can't be mad at him. All it was is a hit and quit. The only person I can be mad at is myself for going down that route again . I get up and reach down in my purse. I pull out the extra pair of panties and my travel kit I keep on me then walk into the bathroom. I grab one of the white wash cloths then turn the water on hot. I step in and start washing. Water and tears mix on my face. Damn, why do I keep doing this to myself?
Treasure
My phone starts ringing. I roll my eyes, ignoring Kennedie. I don't want to talk to her. I have a mean ass hangover and I don't feel like going back and forth with nobody. She was dirty last night. Who the hell chooses some random dick over someone they've been knowing since elementary school? That's mad grimy and I don't fuck with it. I never thought she would stoop that low. Yeah, I was drunk but I remember that perfectly.
I walk into the kitchen and grab my Starbucks vanilla frappuccino out of the fridge. I open it and sip it. Coffee can soothe a hangover like nothing in the world. I walk into my room and open my closet. I grab my Pink and black sundress and black sandals then lay it on my bed. I walk into the bathroom and turn the shower on.
I just finished showering and handling my hygiene. I pull the bobby pins out of my hair then comb my long body wrap. I brush my teeth then walk out the bathroom. I check my phone and see I have a missed call from Slim and five from Kennedie. What the hell does she want?
I call back. The phone rings. I'm about to hang up because she's just letting it ring. It stops ringing. I hear a static like noise. "Hello? Kennedie?" I say. "Tiara. Get out of the house now." she says in a panic tone. "What? Why?" I ask. She screams. "Come here, bitch!" somebody growls. My eyes widen. "Kennedie!" I scream. The phone hangs up. I grab my AK-47 from under my bed and grab my purse. I walk out of the house and look around. Nothing looks suspicious but I ain't taking chances. I get in my matte black Jeep. I look at the suspicious escalade rolling by. "Shit!" I yell, staring at the Barrell of an Ar-15. If I don't know anything, I know guns. I roll my window down and start shooting.
"Fuck!" I scream out in pain. I just got hit in my shoulder. I continue to shoot back. The truck flips over. I shoot into the window then watch as blood slowly leaks out on the concrete. What the hell is really going on? I pull off, groaning in pain. Where the hell is Kennedie? Shit. I should've answered. All of this would've been avoided. Damn, mane. This is all my fault.
Wtf is going on????
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