Page 115 of Just Listen
Malice shrugged. “I was doing whatever to get them off my gal. It was four of them and one of her.”
“You aint supposed to entertain hoes’ beef, nigga,” The big burly man finally spoke up.
Malice waved him off. “Nigga, your big ass can miss me with that. I’m unquestionably stepping for mine. Especially when y’all standing here behind a hoe.”
“A hoe?” Drop snarled.
“Shit, did I stutter?” Malice chided.
My stomach twisted into knots, as I realized that the conversation was going downhill, quickly. “Baby.” I grabbed his arm. “Come on. Let’s go in the house.”
He nodded. “We going in a minute. Just let me address them.”
“Shit, you might wanna listen to this bitch,” the big dude spat.
“Bitch?” My neck jerked back.
“Yeah—” The man attempted to get out, before Malice abruptly smashed the butt of his gun against the man’s face.
Everything happened so quickly that I never even seen Malice pull the weapon out. Then clearly big boy didn’t see it coming, either, as Malice ruthlessly worked him. Meanwhile, I couldn’t focus on the fight, because I was too concerned about Drop making a move. So, I moved first, whipping my gun out.
“I need you and your fat ass boy to get the fuck out of my property!” I shouted, while aiming my gun directly at him.
He snidely smiled, while Malice forcefully shoved big boy to the ground. “You got it.” He nodded, as he turned to grab his boy’s hand, and helped him stand. “Y’all definitely got it.” He nodded.
“Yeah, okay,” Malice scoffed, while spitting on the ground.
I stood beside him, while Drop and his big flunky retreated.
Once they’d backed out of the driveway, I sighed with relief. “I can’t believe that they just pulled up—”
“Let’s go pack up some clothes,” he cut me off, while grabbing my hand. “Cause we aint fucking sleeping here tonight.”
***
I was sitting Indian style on the floor, while folding my clothes, and placing them into my suitcase. Of course, Khari was on the floor with me, sitting in the suitcase, like I was packing her away too. I was halfway done packing, after already filling three different pieces of my Louie luggage set.
It was early in the morning, and we were set to catch a flight later that evening. Meanwhile, I was trying my best not to forget anything or lose my mind in the process. It had been a week since that confrontation with Paisley’s daddy, and I’d been on edge ever since.
Doing exactly what Malice had instructed, I’d gone into my house, and packed our bags. Then we headed to one of the Airbnbs I own to temporarily stay. Naturally, the home was nice, but it wasn’thome. Then on top of having to adjust to a different environment, I was also ducking and dodging questions from my family.
After talking to Malice, he asked for some grace, and to hold off on telling anybody about the incident with Paisley’s family. I understood why he didn’t want them knowing, because he wanted to handle it on his own, without any side eyes from my people. On the flipside, I felt like telling my daddy could actually help. However, I’m sure that Malice’s pride didn’t want any man stepping in on his behalf
I could tell that Malice was under immense pressure, as his phone was constantly going off, and it was often about pure drama. Paisley’s family was clearly riding for her, right or wrong. They also didn’t care to hold her accountable, after she’d shown up, asking for trouble. I can’t say that my family wouldn’t do the same, but personally I wouldn’t involve my people, if I was actively chasing a nigga. Then Malice was clearly not the type to back down, and I could only see this turning out badly.
“What, nigga?” He snapped, as soon as he answered his phone.
Looking up, I studied Malice, as he sat at the foot of the bed, shirtless, wearing an aggravated scowl.
“Mannn,” he drawled. “Listen. I’m not trying to hear none of that shit. Them niggas can’t shut shit down! Now, you tell that muthafucka that he’s dancing with the fucking devil!”
My lashes fluttered, as he ended the call. “What happened?”
He shook his head. “Drop’s bitch ass thinks that he’s some type of shot caller, claiming that my name is dead in the streets.”
“Oh, damn,” I uttered, not knowing what else to say. Personally, I didn’t want him in the streets, anyway. So, the last thing I could muster up was some type of pep talk to get him motivated.
“Yeah, he got me fucked up,” he grumbled, while standing.
