I Do. (August Alsina)

I Do, 36

Peter Jones.

"Aha! He fell for it. So how much time will he do for assault?"

"It depends on his lawyers and the judge, but possibly a few months in jail, without bond. Which is why you should've went further so he could be charged with assault and battery. Right now it's just a simply assault. Provoke him more than he'll have a few years under his belt." Angel smirk, wiping blood from under her nose.

For Sarah to be this weak little bitch, I can say she really put in some work on Angel.

"What is there to do? I've already toyed with his music and money. He seemed to have calmed down while being in her presence." I said, folding my hands together.

"Remove her then."

"No. I need her." I stared at the wall for a second before a idea came to mind. "Get Jackie."

Angel stared at me for a split second before, walking away to get Jackie.

"You wanted me?" Jackie said, looking around at the messed we created. "Peter–"

"Don't start, Mom."

"No, I'm going to start. What I tell you about keeping this damn office clean?"

I grit my teeth, balling my fist. "Mother."

"What?"

"I have an idea on how to get Sarah back, but I need your help."

She shook her head at me. "Now you need my help after having some other hoe play mommy for you? You think I forgot? What, are you ashamed of me, boy?"

"No, mother. I just–"

"I don't want to hear it." She cut me off.

"Mother can you help me or not?"

"What do you need?"

I smirked and proceeded to tell her my plans on how to my the love of my life back.

"Okay." She agreed. "When are you going through with this master plan of yours?"

"I'm a couple weeks, maybe. I'll let you know when."

"Alright, baby. Let me know when so I can set it all up and get a nice place far out."

"Thank you, Mother."

"Of course, baby. Now, straighten this fucking office up before I call your father, trifling ass little boy." She said, hitting me upside my head a couple times.

Sarah Marshall

"I'm done, bruh. You think that shit was okay? Na, if I turn around and do the exact same shit you did ta me, you probably lose ya fuckin mind." August said.

"August, you started this mess when you kept provoking me. First, you almost called me a b-word then talking to me like I'm your child."

"And you think that gave you a fuckin reason ta put yo fuckin hands on me?" He yelled, getting in my face.

I avoided eye contact with me, balling my fist up. "Move before I do it again."

"Ain' nobody worried bout ya pussy ass threat, lil girl."

"Back up." I placed my hand on his chest, pushing him back a little.

"Bet. I'm done witcho ass and that's on me."

"Fine then, I done with you too, Anthony." I said rolling my eyes.

"Bet." He pulled his pants up and left right out the kitchen.