Lighter Shade of Brown (Urban Fiction) BWHM

Chapter 6 Part 2

With a heavy as hell heart, Cleo stepped on the escalator and gave in to the ache in her chest. At this point there was no use in denying the pain. Tears crisscrossed down her cheeks like raindrops on a window pane. She couldn't believe she'd allowed herself to get caught up in this type of bullshit. Had she stayed in her zone like everyone had told her, she wouldn't be in the middle of fucking Dillard's struggling to remain upright, while trudging her way to the side doors that led outside of the mall.

On her way out, sales ladies stared at her in suspicion, while one even attempted to stop her. Shaking her off, Cleo continued towards the door, only to have her exit barred by a fat white man with salt and pepper hair, in a security uniform that appeared to be two sizes too small for him.

"I do believe the lady asked you to stop, gal." He sneered in a back water country accent.

Cleo glared at the man, and then the sales clerk who eased up beside her. To give herself more personal space, she stepped back from the woman who looked to be few years older than Liberty. "What?" She asked, using the heels of her palms to wipe her face.

Ignoring her, the lady turned to the security officer. "She wasn't wearing that, when she came in with the Latin boy earlier. And I don't believe, Stacey rung her up for those things either."

"You think I'm trying, to steal this." Cleo waved her hand at her body. "I don't even like these clothes."

"Whether you like the items or not, if you attempt to leave the premises without paying first, then that constitutes as stealing." Her hand found her hips, as she glowered at Cleo.

The security officer stalked over to her and reached for her arm. Cleo snatched it away before he could grab her. "Don't touch me. Ain't nobody gotta steal outta this ole ranky dank store." Waving at the escalators, she rolled her eyes. "Dude I was with paid for my gear upstairs when he bought the shoes." She lifted her leg to show off the Air Max's. "The clerk let me change in the back. Go ask him if you don't believe me. Don't nobody have the time to be lying to y'all."

"Well if that's true," the clerk said, while looking down her nose at Cleo. "You want mind showing Frank or me the receipt, will you?"

Unholy shit. C's had the receipt. She'd be damned if she asked the mofo for anything, not even the time of day. "I don't have it?" She mumbled as her righteous anger faded to smoky embers.

"Ha." The lady threw a triumphant glance to the other clerks who had gathered around to see what was going on. "I told you when they came in, that they were gonna try and steal. Change in the back room. Humph." She clucked her tongue. "Have you ever, Frank?"

"More than you care to know, Ms. Lacey. More than you care to know." This time when he tried to grab her arm, Cleo didn't shake him off.

"Hey, holmes." The sound of C's voice made her cringe. "What the fuck you think you doin', yo? Get your hands off of her."

"That's the fella who came in with her. Check him to, Frank." Lacey commanded as she backed away from C's. "There's no telling what he took while up there. You know Jimmy doesn't pay heed to anything, but those damned invoices."

Frank dropped her arm to place his hand on a can of mace strapped to his black utility belt. "Come here, boy."

"Boy." C's chest doubled in size. "I got yo' boy, you fat motherfucka."

"My word." Lacey gasped, and then covered her mouth. "Don't you dare take another step, Frank, he could be like one of those gang bangers I saw on HBO the other night. Banging in Little Rock, I do believe it was. Those rascals would soon kill you than look at you. She's probably is his G-queen." Cupping a hand around her mouth, she stage whispered to the other clerks. "They're the females who have relations with all the boys in the gang just so they can be considered a member."