Page 2 of In Too Deep

“I’m just saying Trecee,” I shrugged. “Your situation is similar to a lot of other women in your position. I’m not taking jabs at you personally.”

“I’m secure in my spot,” she flipped her curly Burmese hair over her shoulder. “Rome is my man and he ain’t going nowhere. You just need to worry about being lucky if a nigga looks your way,” she snickered.

My brows dipped from confusion. “What’s that supposed to mean, Trecee?”

“It means that you’ll never snag a nigga like Rome—none close to his stature. If it wasn’t for me keeping you cute, you wouldn’t look half as decent as you do now?—”

Mimi butted in. “C’mon now Trecee, that’s not caused for.”

“Naw, Mimi fuck all that, you laughed when she tried to spit facts on my situation, so now let me pop my collar.” With a touch to the collar of her baby pink Gucci dress, she made a gesture of fanning with her slender fingers. Her nails were coated in baby pink polish too.

“You think I want to live like yo ass, always stealing and shit? You’re one more clothing hanger from a felony. The fuck do I look like being wrapped up in that? I don’t have to worry about past due bills and shit. Where my next meal will come from and shit. Look at you and the way you dress and shit. At least save some of the shit you steal for yourself. You’re fat. You’re sloppy. Your stomach hanging over your puss?—”

Before she could utter another word, body shaming me more, I raised my fist and popped her ass in the mouth. I was seeing rage with smoke coming from my ears as I sent blow to blow to her face, damaging it. Trecee couldn’t fight, so this didn’t seem unfair, but she had a slick mouth that would make people think she could back it up. Growing up with her, I fought her battles,even bitches bigger than me and in a higher grade level. She never stood a chance. The voices demanding me to get off of her were inaudible. Mimi even tried to pry me off of her, but it was nothing she could do either.

One more jab to her face, hitting her in the lip, I then felt a large pair of hands grab me by my waist, and lift me in the air. The heel of my Steve Madden sneakers kicked her in the head before I was pulled away.

“Mane, what the fuck! Cut all this shit out!” The masculine voice boomed behind me. I didn’t have to look up to know that it was Rome, standing tall, shielding me from beating his precious bitch, and scarring Mona Lisa.

“Let her go, bae, let me rock that bitch,” Trecee spat, with blood gushing from her face. I couldn’t tell if it was coming from her nose or her mouth because her face was so fucked up.

“Bitch, you had ample enough time to do what the fuck you had to do,” I argued back. “You know I can back up my shit.”

“Let her the fuck go, Rome,” she yelled, veins protruding from the sides of her neck.

“Mane, shut the fuck up!” His deep voice boomed, sending shivers down my spine

“All he got to do is let me go and I’m back on yo ass like stank on a dirty booty!”

Though Rome held a strong sway over me, I was determined to break free from his grasp.

“Let me the fuck go,” I glanced up at him and yelled, trying to yank my arm away from his grasp. “Fuck you and that bitch!”

“Are you cool?”

Rome was every girl’s wet dream. His toasted brown skin, warm to the touch, was a canvas of intricate tattoos. The ink a deep, cool contrast against his shortbread-colored flesh. The designs, a tapestry of vibrant colors and sharp lines, whispered stories against the backdrop of his tanned skin. He was lankybut sculpted like a Greek God. Towering over my small frame, he had to be every bit of six foot four. His bushy brows furrowed into a frown as his chinky shaped eyes glared down at me. The full beard coated around the prettiest set of pink lips.

There was no second guessing that he had money, but Rome was a guy who didn’t floss it wearing designer clothes and shoes all the time. In the summer heat, the grey polo wife beater fit his frame snug. Snug enough for anyone to see the eight ridges along his toned abs and the chiseled V line that led to his dick. A dick so meaty that keeping it hidden under a pair of gray joggers didn’t do any good. Trecee was lucky to snag him, but she’d have to be lucky enough to keep him too.

“Yeah, I’m cool, just let me go. Let me the fuck go,” I grimaced, still trying to yank away from him.

Finally, after giving him so much grief, he let me go. Naturally, I rubbed the spot where his hand was cloaked and walked away, my heavy feet sauntering down the rocky sidewalk. Mimi was yelling after me about the walk home, but I was too upset to stop. It wouldn’t do a bit of good, and there wasn’t nothing left to be said between Trecee and I, that could suffice the heat rising between us.

EyingSynthia’s juicy ass booty as she sauntered down the street, I had the mindset to go after her, but I had to see what the fuck was up. She was on foot, and I could get in my car and search for her in a few minutes. Trecee had stumbled in the house with her friend to clean herself up after I let Synthia go. I staggered up the three steps, making sure to step over the blood, and pulled the knob on the storm door. Entering the home, the door creaked behind me as I closed it. Clothes and trash were scattered throughout the living room, making it look filthier than it already was. Trecee’s brothers and sisters were grown enough to know better, but this was everyday living for them, and they never seemed bothered by this nasty ass shit.

Trecee’s younger sister, Moriah, trampled over the mess and ran over to me from sitting on the stained gray couch. “UncleRomeeee,” she grinned, wrapping her small arms around my legs. “I missed you so much.”

“Oh yeah?” I bent down and playfully tickled her, causing her to erupt into a heap of giggles.

“Uncle Romeeeee!”

“I thought you said you missed me?”

“I can’t breathe,” she continued to giggle.

Chuckling at her antics, I stopped tickling her so she could catch her breath.

“How you missed me, but you don’t miss the tickle monster?”

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