13. Milan Fellows

I shut the engine to my car off as I stared at the big ass luxury building Asif lived in. I’d been coming by here all week, at random times, hoping I could see him, preferably at night when he was more in the mood to fuck.

I missed that dick, but not only that; Asif loved to fuck, and it was rare if ever that he turned me down when I offered it to him. And I was sure that his sister-in-law’s sister wasn’t putting it down at all.

My heart rate sped up as I watched Asif walk out, face bunched up as he talked on the phone. He looked so sexy in the wife beater, cloth gray sweats, socks, corduroy slippers, and with his dreads hanging freely. His beard was glistening, even in the setting sun, right along with that deep caramel complexion. Those perfectly muscled arms that went perfectly with his tattoo covered build were drool worthy.

Asif was the finest nigga I’d ever laid eyes on, but his personality made him even sexier.

Climbing out of the car after checking myself out in the mirror, I put on my best switch in the pleated skirt I was wearing that showed a little bit of my ass at the bottom. I knew Asif would enjoy it as well as the crop top I had on.

He spotted me as he listened intently to what the person on the other end of the phone was saying, so I smiled sexily, waving. He gave me nothing, saying something I couldn’t make out due to the distance, before hanging up.

“What you doing here?” he quizzed irritably as he put his phone back into his pocket.

“I been thinking about you is all,” I replied bashfully, staring up into those pretty caramel and green eyes.

I’d met Asif a year and a half ago, one night out at the club. As soon as me and my girls entered the building, we spotted his sexy, thugged out ass. I knew they would be gunning for him, so I pulled out all my best moves, sucking his dick in the car and fucking him the same night. I had no time to be a good girl, which was how I usually rolled. No nigga could ever say he fucked Milan Fellows first night, until Asif St. Thomas.

He was rich, fine, popping, and tall, so I knew he wasn’t about to waste time chasing after me to get the goods. He was a man who was used to getting what he wanted and could get it from any woman he wanted, so I had to do what I had to do to secure my spot.

After that, I basically begged the nigga for his number, and he obliged. Call it thirsty if you want, but I put in overtime after that, texting, calling, making sure he knew I wanted him, and he could have me whenever he liked, no matter what I was doing. I once even left my date waiting in the restaurant because Asif stopped by the establishment for me to suck his dick in the parking lot. I went right back to my date afterward like I didn’t just swallow another man’s nut.

Over time, I became too attached to Asif to keep doing my own thing with these bum, corny niggas, so I devoted all my time to him—let him fuck me in any position, any hole, and let him know I wanted to be his. It was then he broke my heart by telling me he wasn’t looking for nothing serious and that he was gon’ do him until he did. I accepted it, him fucking other girls and not giving me the girlfriend title, because I knew things would change.

However, once I started getting antsy and jealous, going crazy when he wouldn’t answer my calls because I knew he was smashing some other girl, he set me down and explained to me all the reasons I wasn’t Mrs. St. Thomas material.

I tried to fix it all, but every now and again, I would slip and do something dumb, like encourage a nigga flirting with me in my comments or giggling when a man smacked me on the ass instead of checking him. I just liked attention, and since I was an ugly duckling growing up, now being fine and having niggas fawn over me was like a drug I couldn’t quit.

“Well stop thinking about me,” Asif responded. “All it’s gon’ do is have you out here like you are now.”

Stepping closer, I said, “Okay, but can we do it one more time? How you gon’ make me go cold turkey from this.” I reached for his long, thick dick, feeling my southern lips salivate as it filled my hand. “I wanna feel you, everywhere. I want you to nut in my mouth, daddy.” I cooed nastily, the way he liked, and I saw it affect him a bit as he peered down into my face with his fine mug. The sight made me smile.

“Move, Milan. I ain’t fucking around.”

“You’re still single, right?” I asked, and he gave me no response. “And from how hard your dick is right now, I know she’s not fucking you enough.” Lowering my voice while caressing the bulge in his sweats, I added, “You need it at least three times a day still, right?”

When I said Asif loved to fuck, I meant it. It wasn’t often we had sex once and moved on; he always wanted it at least three times within the visit.

He pushed my hand from his crotch and said, “You ’bout to piss me the fuck off, for real.”

His tone was cool but lethal, filling me with a little bit of fear, but I couldn’t let up yet. I was too close. His dick was damn near poking me through his sweats, and I could see the struggle in his face. Anastazia’s pussy was surely trash because Asif looked like he hadn’t let one go since the last time we had sex.

“You sure?” I took his hand and put it under my skirt so he could feel the dampness of my panties. Snatching his hand from under my skirt, he gripped my neck tightly and backed me to the wall. “Ooh, there he is.” I chomped my teeth at him, still feeling his hard dick against my stomach. “Sexy ass.”

My smile faded when I felt cold metal pressed to my temple, and he tightened his grip on my throat. He’d pulled his gun out so quickly I didn’t even see it.

“Come by here trying to entice me again and they gon’ be outlining you with that white chalk, love. I’m trying to be cool. Trying to be a gentleman like I was raised to be, but you gon’ make a nigga get outta character real fucking quick. Don’t do that, I beg you. You don’t know that side of me, baby. You used to dick between ya lips, not a nine, but I can switch up real promptly if you need that.”

“I’m-I’m sorry,” I whimpered, feeling like I would use the bathroom on myself any minute, and I wasn’t sure if it was gonna be number one or two. When he let me go, I said, “You don’t want me, but your dick was hard! Get a new bitch that can actually fuck you right!”

“Baby, I’m a man. My dick be hard just ’cause it’s Tuesday. Don’t flatter yaself.” He plummeted my self-esteem as he gave me his back, swaggering back inside of his building.

Not only was I pissed he dissed me yet again, but now, here I was, horny as hell. None of these niggas could fuck like Asif. He was the only one that actually made me cum, and I looked forward to it. Most niggas couldn’t get me there unless I helped them with a toy or something of the sort.

Pussy throbbing and with an attitude, I hopped in my car, drove home, got myself off, then showered while wondering how I could get my man back. Anastazia did not deserve him.

“Girl, I love that bag,” my cousin Bianni said as she filed my nails within her workroom.

She did nails out of her apartment. It was a little ghetto, but the bitch had talent, more than Asif’s sister-in-law, in my opinion.

“Thanks. It’s from the new collection.” I patted the Dior bag with my free hand.

“See, I need a nigga who gon’ do me like that,” she said. Asif didn’t buy this, but I wouldn’t correct her. I liked for bitches to think shit like that. I’d in fact bought this with the money I made from social media.

“Speaking of, what happened to you hooking everybody in the circle up?” my homegirl Jalia asked as she sat on the couch in the room, waiting for her nails to be done next.

“I told y’all I would whenever I got a chance to be around them niggas alone, but it hasn’t happened,” I answered. “Anytime Asif brings me to those family functions, the wives and hos be around.”

I’d told Bianni, Jalia, and my other friend Casandra that Asif had some fine ass brothers and not just the ones they’d heard about like Khari, Shakur, Unique, and Cemone. I promised them I could hook them up with them, despite them being married, and my girls were all for it.

I personally could never and would never fuck with a married man, at least not before I met Asif, because now, I was willing to be his side chick if it meant him still being with me. However, these hos didn’t have feelings for Asif’s brothers like I did him, so they didn’t have an excuse for being a side thing.

“Well get on it, bitch, because Cemone is getting finer by the day.” Jalia laughed, making Bianni and I follow suit.

“No, he’s married to Yolani. Let’s leave him out,” I said, only because she was the only one of the ladies I liked.

“Girl, fuck that!” Jalia exclaimed.

“Right. I love your songs, girl, but that don’t mean your man’s dick can’t get slurped!” Bianni chimed in, causing us all to crack up.

“Who are the others? I forgot their names, but we know the famous ones already.”

“There is Lequay; I think he’s right under Khari. His wife is a real stuck-up bitch, think she got that nigga in the bag, but he be looking bored,” I said, making the ladies giggle.

“That’s how it be. These hos do the most to get a nigga, then start slipping. Is he fine?”

“All are fine. They all look alike with some a smidgen finer than others. I don’t care who y’all get at. Just leave Asif to me,” I explained. “But other than Lequay, there is Bashar; he’s the sophisticated thug type. Giving James St. Patrick vibes. His wife is a bitch too.”

I hated Analicia because she’d indirectly ruined my life. Had she never gotten with Bashar, her sister wouldn’t be around to steal Asif from me. And for that, I hoped one of my friends fucked her husband.

“Ooh, I love a nigga that can take care of me with legit funds and can dress up in a suit.” Bianni purred before we all guffawed.

“Well, get on it, sis, because I’m trying to get like you. Next time there is a function, get us the invite, even if the wives are there,” Jalia said.

“Y’all gon’ be ready to fight?” I quizzed.

“Yep, especially with my fave Yolani ’cause I’m gon’ sue the fuck out of that bitch if she so much as bumps into me!” she hollered. “I paid almost six hundred dollars for tickets to her last concert; she ought to let me fuck Cemone freely just for that.”

We erupted in laughter.

“Y’all are crazy, but I got you. It may not be for a while, though, because according to Asif, he can’t fuck with me no more,” I admitted, though I didn’t want to. But all this talk about hooking them up reminded me of the access I’d lost. “Shit is bad, y’all. I offered this nigga sex, and he told me no.”

In the past Asif had gotten mad at me and threatened to stop fucking with me, but he’d never followed through. He’d also never pulled me to the side to tell me straight up that he was done. By saying that, this whole scenario was different due to more than just him denying sex.

“Your spoiled ass,” Jalia scoffed, scrolling on her phone.

“I may be spoiled, but I know my nigga, and he loves pussy. That man has been hot with me but will still smash. And his sex drive is through the roof.”

“Oh, we know from witnessing your craziness.” Bianni started applying my nails while referring to the time I wilded out over Asif fucking another girl the same night he’d fucked me hours before.

Only reason I didn’t stay to give him another round was because I had plans with my friends, and lo and behold, word got back to me that not long after we parted ways, he was breaking another bitch’s back in.

“So he single?” Jalia put her phone down for a second finally.

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Yes. He’s always been single, let him tell it, but he was always still mine. It was like this unspoken thing.”

“Hmm, well, now that he ain’t unspokenly yours, maybe I should shoot my shot.” Bianni looked to Jalia, trying to make a joke out of it, but I wasn’t so sure.

She’d been there at the club the night I met Asif and was a little peeved at me the next morning when she’d found out I spent the night with him, riding that dick until it was raw.

“Girl, please. His new bitch is old but not yo’ type of old. You need to stick with one of them older Comptons,” I half joked… well, shit, I quarter-joked because the majority of my statement was true. Bianni had better watch it when it came to Asif.

“Ho, I’m only thirty-four. How old is the new one? And you didn’t say shit about a new girl being around.” Bianni stopped filing my nails for a second.

“She’s like twenty-nine or thirty, I don’t know. You know that man has mommy issues…” I slipped up, pausing for a second out of regret. Clearing my throat, I continued. “And with me being only a year older, I guess that wasn’t old enough for him.”

“Mommy issues, huh?” Jalia chimed in.

“Y’all, forget I said that shit. I didn’t mean to say it. Do not go around telling people he got mommy issues, aight?” I glanced between them both, and while Jalia nodded, Bianni rolled her eyes and sucked her teeth as if she didn’t give a fuck enough to spread that.

Asif didn’t confide in me ever, but while attending his family events here and there, I was able to conclude he wasn’t close with his mother. Couple that with his distrust of women and keeping us all at arm’s length, I was able to piece it together.

Though he told me nothing, I knew Asif would hate me if he found out I was telling people his personal business. He was a very detached person when it came to street relationships, never showing vulnerability, unless with his family, so if he knew I was telling his private shit, I wouldn’t have even a slight chance of getting him back.

“Anyway, you just gon’ let mini grandma take your man?” Bianni inquired, which I found odd considering she was older than Anastazia for sure. And she looked it, whereas I only knew Anastazia was older because stuck-up ass Leeci referred to her as her older sister, and I was close to Leeci in age.

“Wait, ain’t she the one who like shot or killed her man or something?” Jalia pointed at me.

“Oh shit! That bitch is going to jail, cousin! You can’t let her take your man and have him holding her down while she’s locked up too.” Bianni shook her head, painting my nails.

“I mean, yeah, I guess, but do y’all honestly think she’s gonna be convicted? The abuse photos looked pretty bad. He was fucking her up,” I said, ridding myself of the slight sympathy I felt for Anastazia as quickly as it came.

I too thought she was lying at first but after deep diving on the internet, my mind had begun to change.

“I don’t believe her ass.” Bianni scoffed. “Them pictures look like photoshop or AI or whatever the hell they use these days. That bitch wanted a new nigga, probably Asif’s ass, and tried to get rid of her man so she could do her.”

“Yep, and wanted that insurance money to go with it,” Jalia hypothesized.

“That seems a little far-fetched to me, y’all. And Asif is rich as fuck. Why would she need money? Couldn’t she just leave old boy if she didn’t wanna be with him?” I posed.

“Milan, I love you, but you’re naive as fuck if you believe that girl was getting beat on by that man. His own family and even her coworker said she was lying, mixing up stories, and all kinds of shit,” Bianni answered.

“Her coworker, who is now pregnant by said man? Why would she be on Anastazia’s side? Of course, she’s gonna say that shit,” I reasoned.

“Girl, I know chicks like her who will have you believing they’re getting beat and it ain’t true. They be putting good niggas in jail and graves, all for money and a new man.” Jalia shoved some gum into her mouth. “Court gon’ see through all that, though, and she gon’ be behind bars, penning letters to Asif.”

As she and Bianni burst into laughter, I shook my head subtly. I was heartbroken and didn’t find the shit funny. I’d lost count as to how many times I’d listened to and belted along with “I Don’t Wanna” by Aaliyah.

“Wait, isn’t her lawyer Bashar? Damn, he is fine.” Bianni licked her lips as she thought about him, while working on my nails. “How she afford him? I’m just now realizing he that lawyer these hood niggas love. He charge racks just to Google shit.”

“Yep, because I fucked a nigga who hired Bashar, and that nigga said he wouldn’t even answer the phone until he wired him one hundred bands.” Jalia whistled to say that was a lot of money as Bianni bucked her eyes.

“He’s married to her sister, so he’s doing her a favor,” I said, stating the obvious.

“Nah, his wife pussy ain’t good enough to miss the kind of money he usually makes with a case.” Bianni shook her head, refusing to believe. “He doing it ’cause she paying him with that life insurance money.”

“You only get the life insurance if the person dies, Bianni,” Jalia replied, finally making some sense. Bianni shrugged it off.

“I guess,” I said, not wanting to talk about it anymore. If she went to jail, that would be perfect for me. I wished her ex had have beat her until she stopped breathing because I wouldn’t have to worry about her ass now.

“So what you gon’ do to get Asif back?” Bianni questioned.

“Let him go, I guess. What can I do? He threatened me and told me not to come back.” I sighed. “He’s not the type you can convince to change his mind. He’s bullheaded, and once he has made a decision, it’s final.”

Though I loved Asif, I hated how callous he could be. The only hope I had was Anastazia would see his inability to accept and give love, then choose to move on. I was made for Asif and willing to heal him, making him see not all women were like his deadbeat mother.

“Well, get on them dating apps then, sis, but just know he won’t be nothing like Asif.” Jalia had to rub it in. “Guess I gotta lock down a Compton on my own.”

She and Bianni barked out laughs as if this wasn’t serious right now. I was losing the love of my life.

And Jalia was right. I’d dated other street niggas, and I could easily say Asif was one of a kind. He was smart, savvy, hood, but still a gentleman, and like I said before, could fuck like he enrolled in school for Pussy-ology. That was hard to find. Usually, the gentlemen were too vanilla and soft, and the hood niggas were too rough, a little dumb, and didn’t see life past hustling.

“For real! How you gon’ help me when you can’t help yourself?” Bianni furthered the laughter with her comment, but when she saw my face, she let it cease, telling Jalia with eye contact to quiet down.

“What should I do?” I humbled myself to ask, though I didn’t want to. I was desperate though.

“I would suggest just whupping that bitch’s ass, but I think that will only upset him.” Bianni thought for a moment. “You need to do some shit he can’t resist like making his favorite meal, dressing sexy, and offering him something he won’t ever forget.”

“Like a threesome,” Jalia suggested, and Bianni nodded.

“No, hell no. I’ve shared him with enough bitches and only made it because I wasn’t witnessing the shit. I can’t imagine having to watch. I will lose my mind.” I grunted. “That wouldn’t do shit anyway. I already let the nigga do what he wants.”

“Remember that time we went out to the club the same night she let that nigga fuck her in the ass?” Jalia laughed.

“Yeah and?—”

“Can we focus!” I snapped, cutting Bianni off so they wouldn’t continue their story time. I hated I divulged so much shit to these bitches.

“Anyway, if you do the threesome, Asif ain’t gon’ wanna let you go. He might act like it at first, but he’ll get tired of that same old hole and be thinking about you soon enough,” Bianni reasoned, and a part of me believed the shit because of how flustered Asif was when I pushed up on his ass.

Either Anastazia wasn’t good in bed, wasn’t giving it up enough, or hadn’t given it to him at all. I couldn’t believe the latter because that wasn’t Asif’s style; he paid you no mind if you weren’t fucking him or about to.

“True, but I don’t trust these bitches out here to come in, do the job, and then leave Asif alone. I haven’t met a ho yet that don’t wanna take my place,” I said. “You can’t even say his name without bitches looking and sizing you up, wondering what you know or how you know him.”

“I would be down.” Bianni shrugged.

“Nice try, bitch, but no, for several reasons. You’ve been wanting to fuck Asif since before I even knew who he was. Not to mention, our mothers are sisters, Bianni. We too close for all that.”

Pointing her nail file at me in annoyance as Jalia laughed, Bianni said, “First off, don’t nobody wanna fuck Asif no more. That was well before you became his little concubine that I was willing to fuck him. He is cute and he got money, but he too young for me, almost a decade.

“All I was trying to do was help. We don’t gotta touch each other, Milan, but it’s better to go into that shit with someone you can trust and you know won’t try to double back on your nigga. But, it’s up to you. Get one of these thirsty bitches to help, and you’ll just be adding another ho into his rotation.” She got back to fixing my nails as I pondered.

“Let me think about it, and I will let you know.”

“Think fast ’cause you know his crew is in the club tonight, and we going. This would be perfect timing, while he got liquor and shit in his system, to present the opportunity,” Jalia stated.

“I said let me think for a second.” I gave her a look, and she threw her hands up.

Bianni didn’t comment, only looked up from my hands briefly before focusing back on the job.

On one hand, she was right that she would be a better pick for this threesome, but at the same time, Bianni had been hard up for Asif for months before I ran into him and caught his attention. And I hadn’t forgotten the dust she paid me for a month straight over it, so I couldn’t be sure if she was only doing this to help or because she wanted her chance with my man.

Later that night…

“This shit is live!” Jalia fixed her dress, popping her gum as the club danced to “Moist” by Eric Bellinger. Bianni thankfully couldn’t make it tonight. If she had, I felt like she’d be trying to pressure me into that threesome.

K CAMP rapped over the beat as people sweated up a storm, filling the large ass venue with the smell of bodies, weed, and a cocktail of perfumes and colognes.

Jalia stayed close to me as I looked around for Asif and his crew. I saw Free, so I pointed him out to Jalia before we started that way.

“Fine ass Milan.” Free grinned as I entered the section already filled with half-naked ladies, one’s head bouncing in Low’s lap.

“Hey.” I gave him the lightest hug possible. “Jalia, this is Free.”

“Hey.” She smirked, shaking his hand, holding her tongue between her teeth, something she always did when she was plotting.

Free worked for Asif, so he wasn’t hurting for cash. Asif made so much money even the niggas at the bottom of the pyramid were caked up. It explained why niggas wanted to be down with his crew.

Free’s opulence was made obvious by his jewelry, fresh haircut, Louis Vuitton fit, and pleasant cologne. Some niggas just looked like money, and Free was one of them.

Clearly peeping that Jalia would be some for sure pussy, Free offered, “You want a drink?”

“I do. Whatever you got.” Jalia followed him, glancing back at me excitedly as if bringing her around Free was a gift.

I smiled back, looking around to see if I spotted Asif, but he wasn’t here. I could pick that man out of a crowd in under a second. I didn’t want to sit down because the whole Money Fiends crew was here, and if they weren’t being straddled or engaging in sexual activity with one of the many women up here in the VIP, they would be trying to get with me which was bold of them.

“Damn, I like that dress.” One dude named Yona came up to me as I peered over the balcony, searching for Asif there. He just wasn’t here yet; I realized as I checked the time on my Rolex.

I should’ve known because he always came to shit like this late, then would dip after half an hour. I just wasn’t used to being a waiting party. Right now, I would usually be fucking him, then we’d show up together, leave, then go back at it. Ugh. I hated this.

“Thank you.” I adjusted the patchwork dress that clung to me like plastic wrap. My heels were so high I was on my tiptoes, and my hair and makeup were perfect.

Asif loved to see me in heels like this and short dresses, so I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist me. However, I wanted to get him alone, fuck him, and maybe talk him into not cutting me off before I resorted to the threesome shit with Bianni.

“You wanna go down and dance? You don’t have to just watch.” Yona smiled, putting his back to the balcony rail. He was cute in the ‘I’m just starting to get money’ kind of way. I was out of his league, though, and shocked he was trying me, knowing I belonged to the head honcho.

“I don’t wanna dance with anybody but my man.”

“Who?” He frowned, and when I shot him a glare, he covered his mouth, saying, “Ooooh, yeah, boss. Between you and me, he told us it was straight if we wanted to holla at you.”

My stomach plummeted to my high ass Givenchy sandal heels, hearing that shit. I was hurt but inflamed beyond belief. How dare Asif say some shit like that, knowing how I feel about him.

“Well, I don’t give a fuck what he told you! That nigga ain’t my pimp! I choose who the hell I wanna fuck with!” I barked, making Yona back away and throw his hands up.

“My bad. I wasn’t even saying it like that?—”

“Leave me the fuck alone, please.”

“Aight.” Yona walked off, shaking his head, and just as I turned my attention back around, I spotted him… them.

My lips parted in shock as I watched Asif lead Anastazia into the venue, keeping her close to his person like he was Kevin Costner and she was Whitney Houston.

I didn’t know whether to blow fire from my mouth or cry as I kept my eyes on them getting closer and closer. I wasn’t the only one, as several women gawked, whispered, and commented, wondering who the fuck Asif had with him and in this manner. I felt a couple girls up here look my way, confused, and I was so embarrassed I couldn’t even turn to fully catch their attention.

He started up the stairs to the VIP, and when we made eye contact, the nigga simply looked away before greeting the security and stepping inside.

My eyes darted to Anastazia, hand in his, noticing her tight, expensive ass thigh length dress, heels just as high as mine, and her curly hair swiping across her semi-exposed back. Her brown skin glowed and looked nothing like it used to when she would show up to functions appearing miserable. She paid me no attention, just like Asif, and that bothered me even more.

She was very pretty, the natural kind to where she was just born that way, and it played into why I didn’t like her ass. She reminded me of the girls I went to school with, when I was younger and not as cute. The ones who all they had to do was throw water on their faces and a little face lotion to have all the niggas fawning while I needed braces, medicated pimple creams and washes, and couldn’t do my own hair to save my life. That was really what I meant when I told Asif she was basic.

She and her sister favored a lot, not enough to be twins, but they couldn’t deny being siblings. But while Leeci had freckles and kept her hair straightened most times, Anastazia usually wore her natural curls.

I wanted to say something to her ass, yell how her nigga’s dick was recently brick hard in my hand and that he let me put his hand between my legs or that I had been giving him head during some of their past phone interactions, but I was afraid of pissing Asif off.

I decided I would try to have a conversation with him, but as I started toward him, he sat down and put her in his lap, stopping me in my tracks. I felt Jalia’s worried eyes on me as they sat side by side, her ass in Free’s lap.

“Hi, I’m Jalia,” she introduced unauthentically.

“Stazi.” She smiled and shook Jalia’s hand.

Asif noticed the interaction and whispered to Free. Free nodded then told Jalia to get up before taking her to the other side of the VIP section. He didn’t want Jalia saying the wrong thing in front of Anastazia, and I didn’t know why, but that felt like a punch to the gut. That man had never tried to protect my feelings in this way. He would even flirt in my face on occasion.

They began to kiss, slow pecks that soon turned into lip sucking, and the action carried too much emotion for me to bear. I’d never seen Asif act like a… boyfriend. He was typically so stoic, so void of emotion, that I never pictured him in this manner.

I didn’t realize I was staring until Anastazia and I made eye contact. She was grinning from whatever Asif had said, but upon seeing me, her gaze shifted. She wasn’t perturbed or scared or anything of the sort. She was more so… sympathetic in her expression. I knew then I must’ve looked pitiful for my opps to have pity on me.

She looked away, and Asif snatched my eyes up. He didn’t say anything or make a gesture, he just stared, and that was message enough to leave.

Hurriedly, I rushed down the stairs. I was leaving and didn’t need to worry about Jalia’s ass since she was clearly going home with Free. As soon as I stepped outside into the cold air, I felt a hand on my arm. Whipping around, my hopes quickly died. I should’ve known it wasn’t Asif.

“Grady, get the fuck off me.” I snatched my arm as he chuckled maniacally with his weird ass.

“Come on. Now that he don’ moved on, so should you.” He stepped closer, but I mushed his face.

“Nigga, if I move on, you aren’t next in line. Please.” I gave him the hand, and he sucked his teeth.

“I was just fucking with you. I had some info on how to get yo’ nigga back, but I see you don’t want it.”

“What is it?” I made an about face since I was already switching away from his thirsty ass.

“Nah, lil mama. This information ain’t free.”

“How much?” I folded my arms, glancing around to be sure no one of importance was nearby.

“Not how much.” He shook his head. “You know what I want.”

“I’m not fucking you, Grady.”

“Then you not gon’ get it, and you not gon’ get Asif back.” He shrugged, smiling in a cunning fashion.

“Guess not.” I turned around and kept walking, feeling Grady’s eyes on me as I retrieved my phone from my purse.

Me: Hey, B, I’m down. Will let you know the details soon.

“Good night, Milan!” Grady yelled to my back, but I kept it going.