Memphis Streets 2 (Urban)

Chapter 33- Monica

I've never owned a gun before, but I've seen enough niggas use these muthafuckas to do what I gotta do. The way I figure it, murking Le'Shelle's ass is gonna be a twofer. Justice for Shi and getting my ass back in the game. All I need now is a way to smoke the bitch out, and then this beautiful semiautomatic I got for a couple of Benjamins is going to do the rest.

I know that Pit Bull is having a birthday party at Passions. I could roll over there and see if Le'Shelle puts in face time. If she does, I can be right there waiting to blast her ass back to the devil. My smile grows as I take a couple of practice aims at the sixty-inch television screen in my living room. I keep imagining that the news anchor is Le'Shelle's big monkey head.

"RAT-A-TAT-TATTAT! You're dead bitch."

Fuck. What I would give to see her head exploding in front of my eyes. If I could, I'd run up and spit on her ass, too. Shit. I should've done this shit a long time ago. Maybe if I'd wised up after Le'Shelle had pistol-whipped my ass at FabDivas, Baby would still be here with me now. I suck in a deep breath while regret crashes around inside of me. It shouldn't have been up to Shi to defend me. This gun right here could've easily rock-a-byed Le'Shelle's ass with quickness. Once Le'Shelle is out of the picture, I know Snake will come back over here, looking for a shoulder and some ass to bury his troubles away in. Shaking my head, I realize more than ever my mistake in rolling over to the construction company and making a big fool of myself. I wasn't expecting Snake to come at me sideways. I'm going to fix everything. I kiss the tip of my gun.

"You're going to fix all my troubles, aren't you, baby?" I smile.

"Shi. That's what I'll call you."

There is a rattle at the front door, but the chain on it stops my uninvited guest from just strolling into the apartment. Who in the fuck? I jump straight up from the sofa and clumsily drop my new gat. Thank God the muthafucka isn't loaded or I would probably have shot my damn foot off.

"Monica," Snake barks.

"Why the fuck is this chain on the door?"

"Oh, shit."

I glance around the apartment and then try to bend over and pick up my gun, but I'm still sore and stiff from being dragged across concrete, and this big-ass belly isn't helping matters either. I end up kicking the muthafucka under the sofa.

"Here I come!"

"What the fuck are you doing?" he hollers back.

"You tryna hide a nigga up in here?"

"What? Don't be ridiculous!" I rush toward the door, doing this running wobble kind of thing.

It's the best I can do since my whole left side is still sore like a muthafucka. When I get a few feet away, Snake throws his shoulder into it and breaks the chain right off. I stop and stare at his big ass as he strolls into this muthafucka like he owns the fucking place.

"You took too damn long," he says, walking past me and looking around.

"Sorry," I say, but then slide on a smile.

I rethink my whole program. Maybe I did do right by going out to see him. It got his ass over here. I want to launch into his arms, but clearly that has to wait until he checks out the entire apartment to make sure that I really don't have some nigga stashed up here somewhere.

"Satisfied?" I ask when he makes his way back to the living room.

Snake grunts. I ignore his sour mood and throw my arms around his thick neck and rain kisses all over his face.