Page 12 of The Hellcat Barbies: Saskia
“She shol get unhurt when it's time for her to spend some money tryna keep up with don ‘nem wives. Kristi is living the fucking life; she’d better pipe down.”
The weed smoke filled the air with a fruity funk, but I passed on it, especially since we were about to board a flight. I needed to stay clear-headed to get through Jagoda Bay’s busy and crowded airport. I wasn’t planning on leaving the city, but what’s all this money for if a nigga can’t come and go as he pleases? My granny was my number one lady, and if she wanted to love on me and feed me, I was showing up. The last time I saw her was at Thanksgiving, when she came down and hosted it at Hunter’s house. That was months ago.She’d been constantly calling for me to come see her, and even though she claimed she wanted to tell me something, I knew she just wanted me in her space.
“That’s gone be you getting left.”
Hunter pulled from the blunt, letting the potency fill his lungs.
“And as soon as she try to leave, ima eat that pussy so fast. She’s gonna forget a nigga had cheated to begin with.”
Instead of going back and forth with Hunter, I let his ass talk. I stayed out of him and Kristi’s business. She put up with the infidelity because of the lifestyle, so who was I to judge? But when I got married, it wouldn’t be any of that. I couldn’t expect some shit from my wife that I wasn’t willing to give myself. Loyalty would be a must, and I would honor that just as she would. These women were pretty, but they weren’t mine, and my wife would indeed be not only the prettiest but also mine.
I laughed at Hunter’s ass the whole ride home. Fucking ‘round with him, I only had enough time to shower and change because he had to stop and see a bitch. It was all good, though, because one thing Diamond Cove had just as good as Jagoda Bay was malls, and it had been a minute since a nigga blew a bag for the hell of it.
“You forgot where Granny live or some shit?”
We hadn’t been off the plane an hour, and Hunter was already making me regret letting him drive my rental. He claimed one of his bitches was picking him up, but Granny texted and said if she sniffed out any fishy shit, she was snitching, so he canceled that shit quick and hopped on the driver’s side of mine.
“Nigga how the fuck I forgot where my Moma stay? I should drop yo ass off and keep it pushing. She called for you, not me. The grandma is the fucking baby cuz she treats me like I’m the grandchild and you the child,” he fussed.
That shit didn’t make any sense, and he was dead serious.
“Nigga she don’t. Grandchildren always get better treatment than the children.”
“Yeah, well, Granny can wait. We ‘bout to ride through this race.”
“Race?”
“Yeah! One of my old hoes in this car club or some shit. The Beetle Brats I think that’s the name.”
“The beetle brats for a car club, Hunt?”
“Yeah. They all drive the same kind of cars.”
“So they all got Beetles? Ain’t them shits discontinued?”
I couldn’t see anyone driving those little ass dainty cars and forming a fucking car club let alone hosting a race. How fast did them bitches go? Couldn’t be more than eighty on the dash. If they did, that wasn’t my type of party. Probably was full of women in cardigans holding cats and listening to Taylor Swift.
“Beetles or Beamers. Shit, I can’t really remember. Just know we going. Moma snitching ass can wait.”
If the car club was full of Beamers, then I could see that, but not a damn Beetle. Hell, even Beamers weren’t race cars. Hunter was always hearing what the fuck he wanted and retaining the wrong shit. Nigga only heard good when it was time for him to hunt a motherfucker down.
Me being the tracer and him the Hunter had been some accidental type shit. One day, a dope boy in our hood put a hit on his opp's head and had been unsuccessful in finding him. When a year went by and no one could locate dude and the price had been tripled, we figured why not? We were sixteen at the time, and Granny needed a new roof as well as a knee replacement. Her health insurance was only covering a small percentage, and there was no way I was going to let the only parental figure I had left suffer. So, we took on the job and found that nigga in less than a week. He was down in Florida with his feet kicked up in the sand.
As soon as he saw us, he ran, and Hunter was on his trail while I stayed planted on the beach. I wasn’t about to lose my breath for that nigga. The chase had ended for me, but had just begun for my uncle. The price was dead or alive, so we caught our first body and broke all kinds of laws driving his stankin’ corpse back to North Carolina. The dope boy was so impressed that he told everyone about us, and that was the start of our careers.
“Beetles, huh?”
We pulled up to the race, parked, and were now in the thick of the action. I wasn’t going anywhere naked, so I had him make a detour to my old gun connection so we could pick up a strap. There were food trucks lined up along with a DJ, Uncs on BBQ grills, and kids running around. It was live, but there wasn’t one fucking Beetle in sight.
“I said Beetles or Beamers,” Hunter grinned while glancing at some of the finest women our hometown had to offer. He’d already begun to wag his tail and we’d just fucking got here.
“And you was wrong both times.”
Walking past a purple Challenger, I saw a Hellcat Barbie sticker on it, which further confirmed that Hunter had not only mixed up the cars but also the names.But, I already knew that. While tuning out his half-assed explanation, I admired the lineup of Challengers. The Hellcat Barbies knew something. An all-women car club was sexy as hell, and it made it even better that they had good taste in cars.
“It looks like we have a winner!”
Engines roared and tires screeched as two cars zoomed past, driving like they were in NASCAR. A flag was waved, and the crowd roared. The cars had been going too fast, so they took another lap at a slower pace. I’d walked away from my cousin, letting my feet carry me toward the finish line. When the cars came back around and two women hopped out with smiles on their faces, I paused. I hadn’t seen her since she robbed a nigga after putting the best pussy I’d ever had on me. That had been a year ago, and not a day had gone by that I didn’t think about her. She’d been too fragile, though. I could have easily tracked her down—that was my damn job—but I let her sexy ass be. Stealing from me was a death sentence for other muthafuckas, but it had been dismissed for her. That was the least I could do for her, even though it took everything in me not to go after her.
