Page 31 of Desperate Measures
But I wasn’t about to let him see me sweat, not now. Time to put my game face on. If he wanted to be strictly business, then that's exactly what I’d give him.
“Okay. Well, speaking as yourbusiness partner, I need my cut.”
“I can’t give you what I don’t have. The robbery and kidnapping bullshit was once againyouridea, and it all went south. They were only able to get about 30K. I let them split that evenly.”
“Split evenly? So I get nothing? You really got me fucked up, Que!”
“All you think about is money.”
“Hell, ain’t that the goal? I’m clearing my debt from nursing school!”
“More like buying Birkins and other bullshit you don’t need.”
“Wow. You really got lazy over the years. Where’s the grind? What happened to investing?”
“With what money, Venus? You know my parents cut me off. Only thing they doing is letting me and my family live there for free.”
“What money?” I laughed bitterly. “I gave you fifteen thousand dollars!”
“And that was years ago.”
“So what! Not to mention the money you got from the original heist, Crimson’s rent money that got her evicted, and God knows what else. Are you for real? You’ve sat on at least 300K over the past few years, and you ain’t got shit to show for it?”
He said nothing. That silence was louder than any lie he could’ve told. Now my karma was hitting me hard as hell. I did all the scheming and scamming I could to elevate a nigga and stack for myself. And now I was left with nothing, not even the friendships I scammed my way into.
And the only thing he had left to give me was silence. Silence, four kids with other women, and some bullshit about me being only his business partner? I was hurt. Not just by the words, but by how easily he dismissed everything I gave him: my money, my loyalty, my body. But more than hurt, I was fuckin pissed.So, I did the only thing I knew how to do when a nigga hurt my feelings, shit hurt theirs, harder.
“Call your mama and get my money, Que.”
“Man, what?”
“They are always bailing you outta shit. From my calculations, you owe me at least 50K. I need my coins. Call yo mama and get my shit before I tell Jahsir and Rashad everything I know. You know you fall in line when you heartheirnames.” I was in full attack mode and didn’t give a fuck.
“Venus, I’ll beat your ass up in here. Don’t ever disrespect me like that again.”
“Having a dick-swinging contest withmewhen Rashad and Jahsir got you spooked is crazy work.”
“Bitch, what?!”
“Bitch?” I laughed hysterically. “Que you weak as hell. You the type of nigga that let niggas skip in front of you at the barber shop. Hell, even Crimson got more balls than you.”
His eyes flashed with an anger so intense that it even scared me. But before I could brace myself, his fist cracked across my face. Pain exploded through my cheek and I stumbled back, crashing into the edge of the bed. I tumbled onto it, clutching my face while shock washed over me. My mouth filled with blood. My thoughts were running rampant, but one was clear: the man had put his hands on me.
“You hit me?” I blinked, tasting blood.
“I told you not to disrespect me.”
“You broke ass nigga,” I snapped, as my rage overcame the pain I was experiencing. “You didn’t even pay for this room with your cheap ass! And you got the nerve to put your fuckin hands on me?!”
With pure instinct, I lunged at him. I didn’t give a fuck how big he was; nobody was getting away with hitting me. My nails tore across his neck, then I caught a clean slap across hisface that echoed off the marble floors. He grabbed me instantly, hoping to keep me from doing more damage to him.
“Let me go, muthafucka!!” I screamed, thrashing in his grip.
Que’s jaw clenched. Then he shoved me aside like I was nothing. “I told you to shut the fuck up.” He barked. "You bitches never know when to stop talking.”
He turned to walk away, but his coldness lit something inside me. I was misused, disrespected, and now enraged. I scrambled to my feet and charged, clawing at his neck again. I hauled back and tried to slap the skin off his face.
“Venus!” he shouted, grabbing my arms. Yanking out of his grip, I snatched a glass from the minibar and hurled it at him. Missed. But I slapped him again and hard. That was my last move. He seized my wrist and twisted it behind my back. Pain shot up my arm.
