Lighter Shade of Brown (Urban Fiction) BWHM

Chapter 6 Part 2

The other sales lady gaze swung to Cleo, one of them even mouthing the word, no. Nike, who had followed C's down, smacked her lips as she folded her arms across her ample chest. While her friend laughed, just enjoying the scene.

"Forgive my boy, officer. He can get a little heated sometimes." Ant grabbed on to C's arm to hold him in check. "What's this all about, sir?"

"What's it about. I'll tell you what it is about, boy." Frank pointed at her. "That gal has just been caught red handed, stealing. Now unless you wanna go to jail with her, you'll mind your own damned business and let me do my job."

"Stealing?" Ant frowned, giving C's a sideways glance, before looking back at Frank. "What she get caught stealing?"

"What she's wearing." Frank spoke through clench teeth as if his patience were dwindling.

"What?" C's exploded. "Motherfucka, I paid for that. Here's the receipt." He waved a long slip of paper in Frank's face.

"Say what?" Nike asked, with a neck roll and a raised finger.

Lacey flounced over plucking the paper from C's fingers. "Let me see that." As she perused the receipt the doors blew off of Hades and Hell rolled out and got loose in that joint.

"Humph." The girl with Nike, shook her head, while smacking her lips. "Now that shit's red handed. I knew Yani wasn't just runnin' her mouth to be runnin' it. There's the Negro puta, she was talking about."

"Is that her, C's?" Nike asked, eyeing her as if she was about to lunge.

Cleo squared her shoulder, balling her fists at her sides. Yeah. She wanted the bitch to jump. That way, the story wouldn't be she was in the mall fighting over a man.

C's waved Nike away. "Later for that shit, Nike. Let me get these folks out of our faces."

"Later my ass, C's." Nike screamed, causing the sales clerks on the sidelines to slowly back away. "Your ass better let me know something right now."

Tired of C's and his endless flock of bitches, Cleo spun on her heel and walked out the side door. Not giving a damn about what Frank or Lacey racist asses had to say. Shoot. They had their receipt, they would be alright. As she marched down the sidewalk a moment later she heard heavy foot falls, beating down the concrete after her. When a pair of arms grabbed her from behind, she turned around and blindly started swinging, connecting to any place she could land a punch.

"Stop." Ant murmured, wrapping his arms around her to pin hers to her sides. "You don't want Nine to roll through on us do you?"

The second she realized that it wasn't C's lean muscular frame folded around hers the fight fizzled out of her. Her body became limp in his embrace. Burying, her face in his shirt, the sobs she'd desperately held back in the store ripped from her throat as if they were on a damn mission. While Ant's hold turned from restraining, to comforting. One hand caressed the small of her back, as the other stroked the nape of her neck. After she finished soaking the front of his shirt, she swiped at her face with the back of her hands before looking up at him.

"I know he's yo' boy and everything, but how he tried me..." Cleo shook her head and swallowed. "It's messed up, Ant. He ain't even known me long enough to take it there."

"That's C's." Ant shrugged as he rubbed away a tear that escaped from the corner of her eye. "If you gonna be down for him, then you're gonna have to be down with all the bullshit that comes with him." His thumb grazed her cheek bone, barely touching her face. "And that ain't me hatin', 'cause he my nigga." Intense hazel eyes, pleaded with her to understand. "It's me spitting from experience. First hand."