Seeing Red [✓]

vi. strong black woman who don't need no man

I huffed. Erika was too dedicated for her own good. "You don't see how far this is going, Erika?" I asked her, moving her hands from my shoulders. "This isn't water-gate and I'm not deep-throating Reece to prove anything."

"As clever as that wording was, I need you, Ashley," she begged. Her eyes were squinted and drowning in gray grief. "My father needs you. My mother does and so does my sister. We need you, Ashley."

Jesus Martin Luther Christ. "I better be getting a check so big, Bill Gates will want to slob on my knob for a piece of it," I said.

"Thank God," Erika said and grabbed me into a forced hug.

"Ugh, I feel so emotionally violated besides that one time Morris Chestnut yelled at me for not taking the entire thing," I grumbled.

"Wonderful," Erika mumbled and stepped back and opened the door, "destiny awaits."

"Is that how we say Hell these days?" I asked, laughing with as much disdain, sarcasm and bitterness as I could muster up. Which was an unsurprisingly large amount.

Kenzie was the first to pull me to the side when I rejoined the party, waiting for me at the top of the staircase. "So, you marrying some white boy and ain't tell me shit?" he asked.

"I'm not marrying Reece, Kenneth."

"You ain't afraid he like some Lifetime movie shit, and he's gonna fuck yo kid's nanny and then kill her then you're gonna be like 'my husband's a murderer why won't you believe me' then he ends up kidnapping you and taking you to some lake where he plans to drown you but you get away because of the love interest that comes to save you then kiss you with the credits rolling, someone call Lifetime I think I've got their next tv movie."

"How are we related?" I groaned.

"Mom fucked dad twice?" he answered and I smacked him.

"Oh God," I groaned. "This plan smells as good as a dick after unprotected sex with a virgin straight boy."

Kenzie snorted. "Colorful metaphor."

"Yeah, well," I whispered, as I started walking down the stairs with Kenzie next to me, "I've had a lot of practice."

"So, what you gon' tell Dennis?" he asked. "He's not gonna be down with sharing your booty-hole with some white piece chic-o-stick."

Oh right. Jesus. What was I supposed to tell him? I was getting married? This was a plot? I'm sorry? Can I blow you just one more time before I'm sold off?

"This is the plot to every Wattpad novel," I mumbled.

"What kind of feminine hygiene product is that one?" Kenzie asked.

"Congratulations," Pete said as we got to the last staircase. "I'm gonna assume that this was Mrs. Red's doing?"

"You'd be correct," Lola, walking over with Erika in tow, exclaimed. "Mrs. Red is in full military mode and she's unpredictable. Like a competent Donald Trump, if he had that kind of switch."

"Well fuck her, her cock blocking widowed ass," I grumbled.

"Mr. Red isn't dead," Pete replied.

"Sucks for him," Kenzie snorted, taking a little sandwich off of a tray next to us.

"So what do we do?" Pete asked.

"Should I kill her?" Kenzie asked. "Because I could just kill her." He raised his hands in defense. "And him, I mean if that's you want."

"Why did I invite you again?" I barked at Kenzie.

"Because you like to make accidents," he replied.