Page 125 of Anything Necessary for Her
But when he didn’t answer any of the three times I called, I could only cry myself to sleep.
THE NEXT EVENING . . .
The stormfrom yesterday had finally calmed the fuck down, and I was thankful. My mama had stopped all that fucking police and assault charges shit, Waverley was no longer looking traumatized, and I was now able to think somewhat clearly.
Lying back in my bed, the weed and a warm shower causing me to feel a bit somnolent, I started to think of Banks. As if I’d conjured her ass up, my phone started ringing.
“Yeah.” I picked up.
“Yeah? That’s how you pick up for me now?” she inquired. When I didn’t give her an answer, she asked, “Why haven’t you called or texted me back?”
“Been busy.” When she inhaled like she was about to speak, I said, “I ain’t in the mood to talk right now, Banks.”
“Stop calling me that,” she whined. “I’m sorry for what I did yesterday. I shouldn’t have gotten involved and especially in that way. I just?—”
“Thank you. I’ll holla at you tomorrow, aight?” I hung up, shutting my eyes so I could process my thoughts.
My pondering turned into me dozing off.
I woke up a couple hours later to see Banks had dialed me back right after I’d hung up. As soon as I picked up my phone, I saw the homie Taye was calling. Frowning since this was my personal device, I put the phone to my ear.
“What’s good?”
“Aye, why you not at the club with ya girl?”
“The club?” I sat up, lightheaded from that impromptu ass nap. My life consisted of naps because I was too on edge to ever go to sleep for more than two hours unless with Banks.
“Yeah, nigga!” Taye shouted, his background loud. “Banks in this muthafucka swatting niggas away like flies.”
Pressing my free palm into my eyes as I sat on the edge of the bed, I tried to remain collected, but I was furious.
“Send me the address, my nigga.” I ended the call and went to freshen up, piss, then slip into a hoodie, joggers, socks, and slides before checking my piece then grabbing my keys, knot of cash, and my phone.
I checked my texts to see Taye had sent me the address. So after plugging it in, I sped off and hopped on the freeway toward Hollywood, shaking my head in the process.
I pulled up an hour later due to all the traffic of muthafuckas heading this way to party. Pulling up front, I told the valet outside to leave my shit against the curb before pressing a G into his palm.
“Sup, Low.” The bouncer nodded his head at me before pulling on the rope to allow me inside.
I tuned out the bitches in the line calling for me and did the same to the ones inside the club as I scoped the scene, looking for Banks. I spotted her in a section with a couple of her homegirls and a few niggas. I didn’t know who them muthafuckas were, but I also didn’t care.
I retrieved my phone.
Me: Where you at?
I watched her pull out her phone, roll her eyes, and then text away.
Peep: With Kailey.
Not liking her shady ass response, I barged through the club goers, making it up to her section. When the guard put his hand up to stop me, I gripped the shit, twisted it, then clocked his ass with my gun. I was on one and not in the mood to talk, argue, or warn a nigga of what it was or would be.
As he howled and dropped, Banks and her friends stood, eyes wide as saucers.
“Let’s go!” I waved her ass on.
“No. I tried talking to you, so now you gotta wait until I wanna talk.” Banks folded her arms.
Chuckling mirthlessly, I said, “Banks, if you don’t come with me right now, I swear to God I’m gon’ shoot this muthafucka up.” I took the safety off.
