Page 32 of In Too Deep

“You ain’t seen shit ye,t Juicy. Trecee ain’t never seen this version of me.”

“I don’t give a fuck about you or her. Let me go! I’ve given you your phones and your money. You can’t do this to me,” I argued, running my hands through my curly mane.

He extracted the bullet from the chamber and presented it for my inspection. There was only one. Playing Russian roulette seemed like a fucking hobby.

“I ain’t afraid of death, Juicy. I live by the gun anyway. Fuck I look like running from it? If you ever pull a gun on a nigga you better use it. A gun ain’t a threat.”

“Just let me the fuck go! What more do you want from me?”

He tucked the gun in the back of his waist. I got a glimpse of the chiseled V-cut and light patch of hair trailing down to his dick.

“It’s obvious, I can kill you and get away with it. This is a pardon for both of us. You need money, so let me take care of you. You stole from me. Had I not showed up to your place withgood intentions, I would’ve spent more money on my plug, then it would’ve been a ghost package too. I spent more on that shit than you did receiving your cut and giving whatever amount you gave to them niggas. I’m a businessman, first and a trick immediately after if the pussy good.”

“And if I don’t agree to this,” I motioned my hand between us.

“Then I’d make your life hell, until you consider fucking with me.”

“That ain’t fucking fair, you freak,” I muttered as I stood on my tip toes and spat in his face.

“And neither is life, but yet your ungrateful ass is here. You standin’ here doin’ everything else but thanking me for sparing your life,” he spat back.

Despite the rough brush-past, he didn’t react, nor was he fazed by my aggression.

“You aren’t doing me any favors, nigga. I’d rather be drowning in the Mississippi River than being here with you,” I responded.

“I can make that happen, don’t get shit twisted. I’ll fuck you first, then hog tie yo ass and dump you in it. Quit talking out of the side of yo neck Synthia,” he grimaced, making his attitude known as if he had a right to be pissed off.

My eyes wandered around his place like a lost dog looking for shelter. Since none of this belonged to me, and his introduction was informal, I had no choice but to return to the master bedroom, where we’d been before. His Yeezys slapped against the glossy wood grained floors as he trailed behind me, mumbling shit incoherently.

“Mane here, stop all that bitchin’ and take this.”

He grabbed my wrist. His thumb, a blunt, hard weight, pressed into my small wrists. The rough fabric of his sleeve scraped against my skin as he yanked, the sudden twist makingmy head swim. A sharp intake of breath hit my ears. The crumbled up goodie powder smashed into my palm caught my attention, along with the white residue. My head was pounding from all of this, so I needed it.

“Above the sink are cups, unless you want to be a beast and drink it dry. They’re water bottles in the pantry.” Romelo mentioned, then staggered off. I snapped my neck to glance back at him with a frown before my found my footing and I treaded towards the kitchen.

It was grandeur, with a color scheme of beige, a white brick wall that was beautifully decorated, giving it a very modern theme. Despite his Jeffrey Dahmer impersonations thus far, the ass hole had taste, so I can imagine what the rest of the home interior looked like. Still clutching the goodie powder, I lurked for knives or anything I could cut his ass with, but I became unlucky. He’d be pretty stupid to have glass cups and saucers in the cabinets. My eyes darted over to the knife block, and they were empty, which meant he’d already hidden them. Trotting over to the pantry, I retrieved the bottle of water, ripped the goodie powder open and poured the contents in my mouth. The bitter taste caused me to shudder before I allowed the water to flush it down my throat.

The plastic made a crunching noise, indicating that the water bottle was empty, so I tossed it in the trash and leaned against the cool marble island. My breasts rested between my elbows as I leaned forward and ruffled my fingers through my hair. My fingertips massaged my temples attempting to soothe the aching, but the was stress building up. This was all too much for me to digest.

In warp speed, a little while ago, I was seconds away from death. How the fuck was I supposed to know the iPhones belonged to him? Allen didn’t mention that shit, and neither did the truck driver. I assumed that they were being shipped tomajor cell phone wireless companies. Aside from that, I didn’t think to dig deeper into the who, what, when, where, and how, just the stats and whatever he felt the need to tell me. Romelo owning Telo Wireless was something everyone knew because he was the first black owned cellular company in Memphis, and it was very successful. Trecee never mentioned to us how he purchased his devices, but that could also mean she wasn’t embedded in his business like that, only her spending habits.

“Chin up!” Romelo’s voice boomed throughout the massive kitchen, echoing between the walls. His presence jarred my head up, darting in his direction. My body was covered in goosebumps from the menacing glare he was giving me. His chestnut brown eyes were darkened, adding a second layer to his already cold demeanor, making me fear him even more. Trecee never mentioned this side of him, aside from everything else she bragged about.

“I need you to give me the play by play tonight,” he demanded while casually walking over to the refrigerator.

My eyes turned into slits, watching him move around the kitchen, calmly humming song lyrics as he bit into a peach.

“I told you the play by play when you asked,” I mocked him. “What more do you want to know?”

“Allen’s blood will be on your hands tonight,” he spoke while chewing on the peach.

“Wait,” I chuckled nervously. “What?”

“Oh, you thought I was sparing that nigga life,” he threw his head back in laughter. The sound rippled, sending shivers down my spine.

“He doesn’t have shit to do with this. Why are you acting so treacherous? I gave you all I had, and what was taken.” I was desperately trying to psyche him out of whatever evil plan he’d conjured up.

“Except for the shit you stole,” he grimaced, closing his mouth shut.

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