Taylor Theodore is a PI hired by the FBI to work on an unofficial case surrounding the rising rapper, Ari Brill. Through a lot of tough leads and dead ends, Detective Taylor realizes that Brillari (aka Ari Brill) is innocent. When they join together...
I rolled off of the bed and cussed. This queen sized bed was getting too small for my sleeping habits. I told you to buy another bed, you don't listen to nobody, you damn fool.
"Shut uppppppp," I groaned, laying across my cold bed.
Don't tell me to shut up, you shut up.
"Nooo," I groaned tiredly, then yawned.
My alarm went off a second later. It was 6:12. Time to get up and go to work. Your boss has a fat pussy when she bends over in skirts. "Shut up, cause you need some pussy," I responded, curling my lip up.
I forced myself out of bed, and threw off the night gown I had slept in. I put it into my clothes hamper and looked for some clothes to wear to work. You don't even need to go to work. "I do, how else am I gonna make money for both of us to survive?"
I started the shower so it would get hot, and nakedly searched for some work clothes. I came up with a dark grey shirt, some darker grey Champion sweats, and my red Filas. I threw a dark grey baseball cap on the bed then hurried back to my hot shower.
After I had washed my ass and clothed myself, I checked the time on my phone and saw I had enough time to stop by Starbucks to get my brain juices flowing.
I left my house and locked the door behind myself carefully. Got ya keys? Did you lock the door? Are you sure you did? Lock it again.
"Stop," I said through gritted teeth.
Lock it again.
I twisted the lock to make sure it was locked.
Lock it again.
"Shit," I hit the door and jogged away from it before my ex had anything else to say. We were on and off. She was aggy as hell.
Out of the looming shelter of my two story home, the Florida heat beat down on me in my dark clothing and rushing to my car not that far from my house in the driveway, was a workout. I got in and turned on my air conditioning. I closed the door and looked both ways before easing my way down my driveway. Did you look? Are you sure you looked? I slowly braked.
"Yes, I'm sure. Damn."
Attitude?
I pressed on the radio, my leg bouncing with irritation. I turned it up loud and looked both ways again before pulling out of my driveway. As I drove through my neighborhood, I ignored the eyes. They were always watching. I was so tired at this point that I didn't even care. I was tired of having to leave for work almost two hours early because I didn't trust myself to safely get there by regular people's time.
The pitiful life of Teone Lee.
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