Page 85 of Anything Necessary for Her
“Hell no! He sounds mean and stupid at the same time!” I shouted, causing Asif to grin and snicker. “Where is Nick?”
“Fish food.”
“Ugh!” I stomped my foot like a child. “Y’all pick the niggas who detail y’all, so I should be able to pick mine.”
“Take that up with our father then, baby girl.”
“Did our father turn Nick into fish food?” I folded my arms, inspecting Asif.
“He didn’t, but that’s not the point. You only like Nick’s bitch ass because you could bribe him.”
“Uh, yeah!”
“You don’t want detail that can be bribed, baby girl, because then other muthafuckas can bribe ’em.”
Glancing off, I said, “I guess. I don’t need Nick now anyway because I have nothing to hide, so.” I shrugged.
Rising from his seat and starting for the door, he said, “You ain’t in the clear yet, Banks. Our father ain’t too happy, and he want smoke.”
“So talk to him for me.” I rose as well, stomach churning like butter at the thought.
“You his daughter. I can’t?—”
“I’m your sister. Would you be cool with me messing with Low if he wasn’t shit for real? You gonna let Daddy think that?”
Asif stared me down and hadn’t said a word, which caused me to smirk unintentionally because I knew I had him.
“I’ll think about it.” He tugged the door open for me, so I picked my purse and phone back up before rising on my tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek in thanks and sliding out.
I hoped Asif lessened whatever blows my dad would attempt to deliver on Low, and me for that matter.
I chuckledat Banks rolling her eyes as Carolyn strutted back and forth in front of her and her peers while they did some weird shit on a wooden bar Banks told me was called a barre.
Carolyn wanted to say some shit to a nigga about me watching the practice, but instead of speaking up, she simply kept cutting her eyes my way.
I wouldn’t have even intruded—though I did like being with my girl all fucking day—but Peep swore she danced better when my eyes were on her.
My phone buzzing in my pocket caused me to retrieve it and scan the screen. Seeing the rehabilitation clinic that my mama had been checked into calling me wiped the smile I’d been wearing right off my fucking face.
Pushing the door to step outside into the bright ass, hot sun, I answered the shit, already not in the fucking mood.
“Hello?”
“Is this Mr. Willow Harris?”
“It is. What’s up?” I quizzed impatiently, keeping my eye out on the streets, even though this was a pretty well-to-do area.
“Yes, . . . um, this is Lily with Terra Bay Rehab. Your mother decided that she wanted to leave and?—”
“So! I hope you didn’t allow that shit to go down.”
“We-well, Mr. Harris, this is a voluntary estab—” she sputtered.
“I don’t give a fuck what it is!” I bellowed before pinching the bridge of my nose to relax myself. “How long ago?”
“About five minutes. We called as soon as the incident took place,” the woman replied, voice still shaking.
I hung up without acknowledging her response and climbed into my whip. After shooting off a text to Banks that I had a quick errand to run, I sped out of the lot en route to the center.
