Page 161 of Save Room for Us

“Not no more. Let’s go.” I kept a hold on my girl’s hand as we made our way to the lot.

As I’d instructed, the short Mexican nigga made sure my car wasn’t blocked in, so once I got Anastazia in, I climbed in myself, pulling out of the lot just as Low walked up, hesitantly getting into the back seat.

“Aye, boss?—”

“Fuck was that about?” I questioned, vexed as a muthafucka. “What you doing outside of Money Fiends business, nigga?” I glared into the rearview mirror as I peeled down Hollywood Blvd.

Sighing, Low shook his head as if embarrassed to say what the fuck was going on.

“It’s no--nothing like that, Sif.”

“Well tell me what the fuck it’s like, nigga! You almost got my girl shot, and you sitting there looking stupid as fuck, still sputtering and bullshitting! Talk!” I banged on the steering wheel, feeling Anastazia staring at me through my peripheral.

I usually kept my cool, but the fact that my woman almost got hit had me incensed. I was ready to ride out and murk a nigga, Low included.

“Aight. Aight!” Low put his hands up. “Some nigga mad I fucked his wife.”

I froze for a second, in disbelief that it was over some domestic shit and not street shit.

“You what?” I felt my forehead crease in confusion.

“Yeah, man.” He ran his hand over his fade. “Some married bitch I been smashing. Her husband found out, and I guess he wanted his revenge, so he showed up. She been calling me all night, but I ain’t pick up, so I guess that was what she was trying to tell me.”

“Oh my goodness,” Anastazia mumbled.

“Low, man, what the fuck? You gotta be more prepared than that when you fucking another nigga’s bitch,” I said, making Anastazia look at me and Low snicker. “I’m serious.” I chuckled. “One thing a nigga will get tender over is some pussy, especially pussy he love enough to lock down.”

“You right, boss. I been smashing her for months, so I ain’t even think nothing of it. Plus, he like a plumber or some shit. Who knew that nigga would come bussin’. But let me handle it, please.”

“Yeah, aight.” I sunk down into my seat, shaking my head at Low. When we made eye contact though the rearview, I said, “Tighten up, lil nigga, for real. You want this shit when I go, you gotta do better. You wanna make sure ya moms and little brother is good, you gotta do better.”

“I know. I got you. I’m gon’ be just like you, Sif, probably better.”

Smirking while Anastazia giggled, I said, “Yeah, whatever, nigga. I hope so.”

“That’s hard to do, Low,” she said.

“You right, but even if I get close, that’s better than good,” he replied.

I dropped Low off at his crib, then headed home. As soon as we got inside, I said, “Sorry about tonight, love. It was supposed to be some fun shit.”

“It still was.” She plopped down onto the ottoman at the foot of the bed, sticking her leg out so I could remove her shoes. “NowI can officially say I got into a shoot-out with my drug dealer boyfriend.”

We laughed.

“Yeah, don’t go around saying that shit.” I removed the heel.

“I won’t.” She pulled her right leg back once the shoe was off, placing her foot flat on the ottoman before she stuck her other sexy leg out, making sure to give me a view of the way her lace panties outlined her fat pussy, and that shit turned a nigga on. “I don’t want daddy to get put away,” she cooed, knowing what the fuck she was doing.

“Come here.” I made her stand so I could undress her, see that pussy up close and personal.

“No, take all your clothes off,” she demanded, shoving at my chest.

No questions asked, I started to remove every article of clothing like she’d instructed.

“Why you still dressed, love?” I began tugging her garments from her body as she grinned salaciously, watching as I kissed the front of her pussy as I removed her panties.

“Lay down, Asif.”

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