Page 15 of The Hellcat Barbies: Saskia
Canada smiled as she took my picture. Grabbing my necklace, I rubbed it across my lips before tucking it back in my shirt. I was a few thousand dollars richer and had a trophy to go with it. Today, I was racing a girl who was part of a Mustang car club. She was the first person I’d raced, and she had beaten me badly. When I pulled up and saw that she and I would be in a rematch, I just knew it was over. Racing her hadn’t been hard; it was actually easy because she focused so much on trying to racedirty that I out-drove her. She thought she was going to get to me, but all she did was make me concentrate harder and pump my adrenaline to the max. I’d practiced, I’d raced, but I’d never gone as fast as I had just a moment ago.
“Do another pose! What the-”
Someone blocked my view, being rude as hell and interrupting my pictures. My day had been good. I’d gotten off before noon like the doctor promised and had now won my race. I wasn't up for anyone screwing up my day and was about to tell the person to get on when my body suddenly tensed up like I had Tourette's.
The blood began to pound in my temples, my mouth went dry, and the trophy I’d been hiding fell to the ground with a clank. Anxiety surged through me, but my vagina wasn’t on the same page with the rest of my body. She was drenched, as if she weren’t still a little sore from childbirth that happened over ninety days ago. He was still fine. Still with that golden hair, still cut up, but this time he wasn’t in slacks and basketball shorts. He was dressed entirely in Rick Owens, and his jewelry was replaced with pieces that were even more expensive than the last one.
“Ima ask you a question and you bet not tell me no.”
His look was menacing, and his stance threatening. One year ago, his demand that I not tell him no was the reason I hadn’t left the bar after selling him the ring and why I ended my day in bed with him, all the while receiving a parting gift: our child. Our child, which he couldn’t deny even with Stevie Wonder’s eyes, so I blinked, bracing myself for the question I knew he was about to ask. He’d seen the sticker. How could he not? It was as big as day on my car and one I’d forgotten to remove before the race.
The gun in his hand couldn’t be missed, and even though the thought of a man approaching me with a gun over the past 12 months frightened me, I wasn’t afraid of the weapon at all.Maybe because he was carrying it, or perhaps because I was still in a haze from not only the race but from seeing him.He wouldn’t hurt me. I knew it. I felt it.
“Did you have my fucking baby?”
“Oh shit,” I heard Canada groan behind me.
My throat felt like it was about to close as he looked down at me with those dark eyes that had a golden sparkle. They shone even brighter in the sun. My baby, like everything else on Yak, had inherited those eyes, too. My child was a mirror image of the man in front of me, with none of my features in sight.
A crowd was starting to gather, and even though these women had become my family, there were also strangers present since it was a public event.Running my hand through my hair, which had grown even longer and fuller because of the prenatal vitamins I was still taking—since they worked wonders for my milk supply—I shot Canada a look. She was asking me if I was good with my eyes, and I nodded in response. I appreciated the fact that she had my back but also didn’t interfere. I’d been the one to do Yak wrong. Not only had I stolen his car, but I’d also stolen the ring back that I sold to him. Hell, I’d also stolen his sperm too, even though I didn’t remember the sex but very well remembered how every hole in my body was aching.
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Get in the car.”
“Yak-”
“Get in the fucking car, Saskia!” he boomed.
“Now hold up now,” Canada spoke up.
“Nah, ain’t no hold up. Let my nephew handle his baby mama how he see fit.”
A man resembling many of Yak’s features appeared in the crowd, with his eyes fixed on Canada. My friend was tough as hell. Honestly, all of my friends were. There had been plenty of outings where we had to check a bitch or a nigga. They haddefinitely aided in toughening my skin. Canada’s bronze skin had darkened a bit in the sun, and I preferred it at this hue. She did too, since she hadn’t needed to self-tan during the hot months.She was wearing denim Amiri shorts with a graphic tee tied under her bust, revealing her toned belly. On her feet were a pair of Amiri shoes that matched her graphic tee. Her hair was braided into a knotless boho bob, which I also loved.She looked like a bad bitch to the untrained eye, but deep down, she was a pitbull.
“Who the fuck are you?” She frowned at the guy.
“Could be your ticket out of this town. You gone be lonely as fuck when my nephew bring your girl down south. You ain’t gotta miss out though. I can change ya life too, baby.”
She drew her head back, clearly not feeling his weak ass game or impressed by his flashy stature or good looks.
“With that big ass ring on your finger, it ain’t shit you can do for me but kiss my ass.”
“And that’s exactly what I'm tryna do, baby. Fuck wit ya boy.”
“Saskia.” Yak broke the gaze I had on my friend.
When he jutted his chin at my car, I walked over to the passenger side. He reached around me, vanilla pepper cologne just as I remembered, and pulled the door open. Once I slipped in, I looked out the window at my friend who was still dissing his people. The crowd had dispersed, and the DJ had started to back up. Thankfully, my Hellcat Barbies also knew me as Saskia because if I’d given the borrowed name, he would have blown my cover. I hadn't remembered giving him my name that night, but I also hadn't remembered riding his dick, and I had proof that the act had indeed happened back atMrs. Jean’s.
“Wait I can’t leave my friend. She rode with me.”
Yak wasn’t trying to hear that shit as he closed himself in the car, bringing his cologne with him.
“Hunt gone drop her off.”
Still, I pulled out my phone to text my friend for confirmation. Canada was the only reason I could walk freely around Diamond Cove. She was my saving grace. To an average person, it didn’t make sense that I was still using my real name with my Hellcat Barbies and Canada, but I was safe. I stayed off social media. I’d learned to spot cameras like Beyoncé. Aubree was the heaviest social media user of the crew, and I was sure to stay out of her vlogs. I hadn’t even logged onto my own socials since the day my father died. My phone bill wasn’t in my name; it was in my borrowed identity’s name. Outside of the Hellcat Barbies, Canada, and her aunt, I didn’t mess with anyone, let alone tell them my business. The HB’s didn’t even know my backstory, and I had no plans on telling them. I’d gone from having no friends to a whole lot, and while I appreciated the community, I had a baby to think about.
I could see Yak scraping his bottom lip with his top teeth as he drove. The way his muscles flexed each time he turned the wheel had me squeezing my legs together, knowing damn well this wasn’t the time. How the fuck could you crave someone that you hadn’t remember sleeping with in the first place? Easy, when you were in the presence of a man who looked like Yak, you just automatically became horny.
