Page 3 of Too Many One Nights

“Wassup, Shari?”

“You might wanna visit table six. Nigga, over there losing his mind and shit. He’s losing and claiming we’re cheating. Rosco just threw his ass out the other day for that shit, but he still came in doing the same shit.” I nodded my head and headed in that direction with Stacks on my heels. When I approached the table, all the chatter ceased. Muthafuckas knew I wasn’t the one to fuck with, yet this nigga felt his nuts were big enough to try the shit.

“Aye, nigga! The fuck is you on?” I barked once I approached him.

His drunk ass couldn’t have known who the fuck had approached him because he hopped up out of his seat and attempted to jump in my face, but the blow to his throat made him back the fuck down. Gripping him by his collar, I pulled his slumped body up, so that we were now face to face.

“Listen, bitch. Make this ya last day in this muthafucka. Since you can’t lose with some fuckin’ dignity, you gotta go.” I seethed.

“Wha—what about m?my money?” he stuttered.

“What fuckin’ money?” I slammed his head against the table.

Bending down to his level, I spoke directly in his face. “Be lucky I’m in a good fuckin’ mood or your brains would be dripping all over the Queen of Hearts. If I see you in this muthafucka again, I’m gone send ya mama on a treasure hunt for your body parts. Now get the fuck outta here.” I stood back to my full height. “Aye, get this nigga outta here and if he makes it in here again, y’all gone share a plot.” I spoke to my security Rosco. Nigga only got incompetent when pussy was involved, so a bitch must’ve had his attention tonight.

After making sure this shit was handled, I did another sweep and took a look around the bar and was ready to head out. I still needed to go by Linc’s and post up. Hopefully, that shit wouldn’t be rowdy like this muthafucka. Regardless of my reputation, I didn’t like being in shit unless it was wet and warm.

“Nigga, you need therapy,” Stacks laughed as we made it back to my car.

“I’on need shit. Muthafuckas need to know that I’m not the nigga to be fucked up with. The sooner they figure that shit out, a happier place the world will be.”

“Buck!” I turned around and saw Tahra, the house manager, approaching me. She was a fine thick ass muthafucka that I took down. She had a nigga and that ain’t have shit to do with me. She could suck my dick from time to time. I’ain care what she did with that nigga.

“Wassup?” I watched as she let her eyes linger on me before she started speaking.

“I have everything in place for Juke and Boom’s fight. The tickets are selling quick.” Nodding, I liked the sound of that. That meant my money would look good from the fight and I was never gone be mad about making more money.

“Aight, bet. Make sure y’all got everything that y’all need so shit can run smoothly. I’ain got time for bullshit or incompetence on fight night.” She simply nodded because she knew I was done with the conversation. It wasn’t shit else to talk about it.

***

When we pulled up to Linc’s, the parking lot was packed. That made me smile because I knew it was hella money inside. It was playoff time, and the Cannon Hills Canons were playing. We drafted the number one draft pick, Titan Samuels, and traded Andros Carlson from the Montmorenci Monarchs. The Super Bowl was looking real good for us this year.

“Damn, this muthafucka packed. Let a nigga hol’ something.” Stacks looked at me and grinned.

“Man, watch out. You got just as much money as I do, if not more.” I walked thru the crowded bar to make sure the patrons were on their best behavior. Unlike with Vault, I didn’t have security posted up. For one, it was in the middle of everything. Second, I was security ’round this bitch.

I made my way to the bar where my head bartender, Armani, was posted up, smiling in a customer’s face. When she saw me, she tried to straighten up since she had her titties all in his face. I guess she thought I gave a fuck. I didn’t. I fucked her once, like I do every other bitch and went about my business. She just knew that she would be the one to ‘break’ me, but the only thing I broke was my dick off in that desert she called a pussy.

“Oh, hey, Buck. Stacks,” she spoke, way too eagerly.

“’Sup,” Stacks countered.

“How shit looking?” I bypassed the pleasantries and got straight to the reason I was here.

“Oh, everything is great. The bar is jumping as well as the kitchen. It was a good idea to have fifty cent wings from eight to eleven. You know niggas love chicken and liquor, among other things,” she flirted.

“You got the inventory list so I can look over it before I give it to Kasha?” I didn’t have time for her weak ass advances. If I’m being completely honest, she was blowing my high and pissing me off.

“Oh—uh, yeah, I got it.” I scanned the bar area while she located the list that I was looking for. I saw the other bartender, Jaz, helping a few customers. Had she got here before Armani, I would’ve fucked her instead. Armani was enough in one establishment. I didn’t have time for these hoes to be bickering and not doing their job. After scanning the bar, I spotted my victim for tonight. I had no intentions of fucking on anybody tonight, but shorty was fine as a muthafucka. She had those braids with the curly pieces that the chicks were wearing. The blonde contrasted with her caramel colored skin perfectly. I almost forgot about this being a one-time event because she was just that fine. Too bad she would only experience this dick once, and I probably won’t even get her name.

“I see that look in ya eye, nigga. What you see?” Stacks observed.

“None a ya business, nigga.” I smirked before making my way towards the end of the bar. When I approached shorty, I saw her breathing hitch.

“Whatever, nigga. Lemme go find Kasha’s fine ass.” He smirked.

“I’ain saying shit when she beat yo’ ass.” I laughed as he walked off in the opposite direction.

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