Page 14 of He Don't Play About Me
“What you finna do?” Bully asked.
I looked around. “I gotta handle something real quick. If Islah comes out, tell her I had to hit a lick.”
Bully shook his head. “Iight, nigga.”
I pulled off, putting the address in my GPS and heading up to the hills.
The city lights started to thin the higher I drove. I pulled up to the property, and the house was amazing to see in person. I could see why Islah liked it. As I turned around to look at the view, a few things caught me by surprise: no noise, the streets were cleaner, and the air felt… different.
“Hello, are you Mr. Maxell?” a voice from behind called out.
I nodded and walked over to her with both duffel bags in my hands.
“I’m so glad you made it. Let me show you inside,” she said, trying to make small talk.
I walked through slow, looking at every inch of it. In the kitchen, I could picture Islah cookin’ her ass off. The master bedroom had large windows, and I could see me fuckin’ her in front of them. The backyard already had a playground that I could see myself with a blunt between my fingers, pushing my kid on the swings.
I could see what she was trying to get to, and I wanted it. I wanted all of it.
“I’ll take it,” I said.
The smile on the realtor’s face, which she had been holding the whole time, was slowly fading into disbelief.
“Excuse me?” she said low.
I walked over with the duffel bags in my hand and dropped them at her feet.
“I believe that is the full asking price. You can count it to make sure.”
She looked at me, then back down at the money as she picked it up.
“Ummm… Give me a few minutes, sir.”
“Take your time,” I said with a smirk.
She walked back to the kitchen, and I walked around the living room, responding to niggas still waitin’ for that white girl and checking on Islah.
After about ten minutes of texting back and forth with Islah, I heard heels tapping across the floor in my direction. I turned around, and Ms. Realtor Lady had papers in her hand and a huge smile on her face.
I signed every page without reading it twice and handed them back to her as she handed me the keys.
“Congratulations, Mr. Maxell.”
The metal felt cold in my hand, but my chest was warm than a mothafucka.
I walked the lady outta my shit and drove back to the hood. I had exed a task off my list and was laying down the foundation that Islah wanted.
By the time I got back around the way, I was ready to lay up, to decompress with my girl and finally breathe. I hopped outta my car, stretching for a second, when that feeling came over me again, and I looked around.
I didn’t see anyone, but I heard a click, almost like a camera click.
I reached for my waist, not even knowing where to aim. My chest was tight, but I was ready to protect mine.
But when nothing made a move, no car doors opened, no niggas rushing me from the shadows, I took my ass up the steps. I wasn’t gonna wait around for trouble.
When I walked inside, the house was quiet. I took off my shoes, dropped my keys on the living room table, and walked back to the room.
As soon as I opened the door and she smiled at me, everything in my chest softened.
