Ain't Nothing To It, Real One Aint Nothing To It, Boss

Shahily

Shayla and I sat in her car, staring at the gun sitting on her dashboard. The moonlight reflected off the matte black finish of the Glock, giving it an ethereal quality. I picked it up with adrenaline packed fingers, examining it closer. The muzzle was still hot from the bullet I fired fifteen minutes ago. I pressed it to my face, smiling as I relived seeing Normani clutch her stomach as she fell to the ground. Even after my relationship with Uriah was over I would always cherish the memory of tonight, the night I took away his happiness the same way he stripped me of mine.

"I usually don't support any woman doing her own dirty work, but that nigga was lowdown for that stunt he pulled," Shayla said, her eyes, flickering between me and the gun. "Fucking that bitch in your house was low."

After dealing with another sleepless night at the hands of Malone, Shayla decided it was time for me to get out of the house and back to my life. She was the only one who knew of what happened that night and vowed to help me get revenge when the time was right. We spent most of the day plotting as we got our hair and nails done. Dinner at my favorite sushi restaurant was the final battery I needed to put in my back. For the first time since the rape I felt in charge of my life.

That feeling deflated at the sight of Urban finger fucking his little girlfriend on the side of an Uber.

"Pay that shit no mind, Shahily," Shayla said as she sped by them without slowing down. Urban was so busy getting Normani off that he didn't seen notice Shayla's ostentatious Mercedes Benz coupe. It was pastel pink, her favorite color, and was ghetto fabulous to me. "You're going to make sure that nigga comes up off everything he owes you, you hear me?"

Shayla went around the block and parked far enough for us to see them in the distance. I looked away, refusing to see Urban do freaky shit with another woman he wouldn't dare do with me. For the duration of our relationship I was treated like a trophy, only to be looked at by him, while Normani was paraded all over like a gold medal. Nah, I was better than this entire situation. I didn't even want to see him tonight, knowing his hands were all over her body, up in her pussy, doing things to her I had to take initiative to receive.

"No the fuck he ain't," Shayla shouted, jarring me from my thoughts.

I grabbed my throat, squeezing it to keep the sob bubbling in my chest at bay. Urban had Normani in his arms and was carrying her into our home. Shayla shook her head at the sight.

"Your house? The place where you rest your head? That's some foul ass shit, man," Shayla exclaimed, reaching for her glove compartment.

The hatch popped open, revealing a pristine Glock. I looked at her like she was crazy. "Shayla, have you lost your mind? Urban will kill us. Put that gun away and take me back to your place."

"You think I give a fuck about Urban? He don't scare me. I'm not letting him get away with disrespecting you to this extent. We walk up, air that bitch out, and run. Who's going to think it was us?"

I shook my head. "Kelsey's at the house."

"So what? Didn't you say the little brat got smart with you the other day, saying you aren't her mother? Why should you give a fuck about her feelings when she was quick to dismiss yours?"

Shayla was right about Kelsey's recent behavior, but wasn't that all teenage girls at some point in time? Ungrateful and smelling themselves? I was ready to move on with my life, but not under these circumstances.

"I can't kill Uriah. If something happens to him, everyone is going to expect me to take care of her. By refusing to I'll look guilty," I rationalized to Shayla, who was growing steadily impatient."

"Fine," she relented, lowering her gun. "We don't hurt Urban. Yet. But this bitch? She's getting put to rest tonight."

I wanted to tell Shayla no, we aren't killing Normani, but as seconds turned into minutes, I figured why not? She was in my house fucking my man with no shame. Did she even ask Uriah if I was there, or was she so hot for some dick she didn't give a fuck if I was on the next level? I was stewing by the time they left the house—thirty minutes later—laughing like some teenage kids. My stomach churned at the sight of seeing my fiancé smiling down at his lover like he was in—