Page 123 of Own It

“FDO” by Pooh Shiesty resounded throughout Perry’s as I stood by the bar, watching a well-known pill pusher named Kevin stroll through, bobbing his head to the beat as he took in the stock of ladies walking around.

“Thanks, girl.” I tossed back the soda shot the bartender Tiffani had given me and switched off while wiping the remnants of the Coke from around my mouth.

I sauntered sensually when I neared Kevin, catching his eye easily like I always could when niggas came through here. It was only a matter of time before I felt his rough hand grasp my wrist.

“Damn, walk slower. You know niggas is looking.” He smiled, tugging me back toward him.

Slipping my wrist from him, I said, “You gotta pay to touch. Remember that.” I smirked lustfully, watching him bite down on his bottom lip as he drank me in like a hungry vampire. “Want a private dance?” I queried, inconspicuously making sure no one had gone to the back and occupied the room I’d set up.

Kevin eyed me pensively before nodding and rubbing his hands together like Birdman. He could barely keep his head up because his attention was on my body in this tiny ass G-string bathing suit.

“I’m with that.” He finally used his voice, well after confirming non-verbally.

Taking his hand, I led him toward the back, dancing a little bit to the beat of the song, knowing he was watching.

“Remember the rules,” Yundo, the bouncer, told Kevin.

“I ain’t no creep.” Kevin pulled his jeans up, sizing Yundo up for a moment before continuing to follow after me and into the room.

Shutting the door, I turned to Kevin and smiled as he plopped down onto the velvet couch. Before I even made it to him good, his hands were on my hips, caressing and groping in ways he knew were disallowed.

Straddling his lap, I settled myself, then reached down between the top and bottom cushion to grab the blade I’d hidden there, putting it to his neck and making him yelp.

“You know someone named Zaire?” I asked, pressing the very sharp knife to his neck and causing slight blood leakage.

“The fuck is that?” Kevin questioned, terror swimming in eyes. It could’ve been funny in another circumstance.

“Tall ass nigga with locs, caramel skin, and a G tatted between his eyes.” I ran off a quick explanation while Kevin pondered on my words, eyes still wide with mortification.

“Aight, yeah, he umm, bought some shit off me before. Why? You his bitch?”

“You sell fentanyl?” I squinted. “Be honest.”

“Nah. Hell nah. I ain’t gon’ lie, I have, but that was years ago, I swear. Fuck is going on?” His chest heaved. “Swear to God, lil mama. I don’t even dabble in cocaine or heroin. That’s for muthafuckas who don’t mind spending years in prison. I stick to weed and pills.” He kept running his mouth, and as I thought about it, I knew he’d been selling around the club for a minute, and no one had perished to my knowledge.

Moving from his lap, I set my knife to the side and grunted as Kevin moved away from me promptly.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Why you asking me this shit? A nigga spreading rumors? I don’t play like that.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No rumors. A friend of mine died, and I figured you’d sold to him before because most of your money is made here at Perry’s.”

“Well I can promise you it wasn’t me. Niggas know I don’t fuck with nothing hard.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. I noticed he kept watching me, and rightfully so.

“I need to find out who is selling that shit because it didn’t come from nowhere.”

Kevin nodded before offering, “I can keep a lookout and shit. Maybe if I hear something, I can let you know.”

“Would you?” I finally gave him eye contact.

“I could . . .” He leaned back, licking his lips. “If you do something for me.” He humped upward.

Scoffing, I looked off only briefly, then said, “You can help me, or I can tell his brother you know shit but refuse to say anything.”

Laughing, he asked, “Fuck is his brother supposed to be, my daddy?”

“Wanna find out for yourself?” I lifted a brow and watched as Kevin’s face fell.