Page 3 of The Hellcat Barbies: Saskia
“Girl, if you truly knew who you were talking to, you’d retract that statement. Ain’t shit strange in my world. Spill it.”
“My father arranged this. I’ve never met the groom, and since my father is dead, I can’t confront him about it. I’m usually not this harsh or miserable, but I had my whole life planned out, and there’s no way I could marry a man I don’t even know. He doesn't even know me! Your sister did a beautiful job, and if circumstances had been different, I’d be kissing the ground she walks on. But I just can’t see myself being tied into an arranged marriage. I didn’t even know those were a thing! Right now, I don’t know who my father really was or is because - an arrangedmarriage? I just graduated from school and have a six-figure career waiting for me!What if this man is a killer?”
“First off, I’m sorry about your daddy. I lost my mom years ago, and it still hurts. I lost my daddy too, but my mama was my world. As far as arranged marriage, they are more common than you think. Are they traditional? No, but some people end up being happy. Lastly, there are far worse things in the world than to be married to a killer.”
“What?!” My eyes bulged, and my heart skipped a beat.
“Girl, hell yeah. Give me a killer any damn day of the week. At least I know he’s not gonna let a muthafucka try me or him. As a matter of fact, sometimes the higher the kill belt the better the-,” she paused and covered Mafia’s ears.
“Dick,” she mouthed.
“I fucks with a murderer, boo. But I’m with you on everything else. You didn’t know anything about your husband-to-be?”
I shook my head no, still at a loss for words and regretting that I’d even confided in this lady in the first place. As pretty as she was, clearly, she was missing some screws. Who in the hell wants a killer? What if he killed me? Plus, killing is wrong.
Instead of replying, tears started flowing again. I let out a wail so loud it shook my chest. When the baby's lip began to quiver, I covered my mouth with my hands and cried into my sleeve. This was a part of my life I never would have imagined.
“Oh hell no. You got my baby about to start crying. Come on.”
She grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind her as if I were her child, all while still holding her baby, who turned her head to watch me. Her eyes were watery, but the tears hadn’t quite fallen yet. Instead of taking the path where the guards had been, she led me on a detour through the trees. For a moment, I thought I was being set up until the parking lot appeared, revealing a white Rolls-Royce parked there. Releasing my hand, she reachedinto her purse, grabbed the key fob, and the door opened automatically.
She strapped her baby in the backseat while I stood there still crying, throat raw, lashes heavy, and feeling snot start to run. Once Mafia was secured, she strutted to the driver’s side, giving me a clear view of her round bottom. I must have been mesmerized because when she yelled out “hey,” I jumped.
“Um, yes?”
“Get in the damn car, girl. And before you say no, I got my baby with me, plus I'm dressed fresh off the runway, I’m not going to do shit to you.”
“I..I.. I don’t understand.”
She leaned over the armrest, showing perky cleavage.
“DO you want to leave?”
I nodded yes, even though I still didn’t understand what was going on.
“Look, I don’t know you. But you’ve been looking pitiful as hell all day. With me, it will forever be 'fuck these niggas,' so if you don’t want to marry that man, I’ma get you outta here.”
Again, I was at a loss for words. I had nowhere to go besides the home I shared with my father, and if I went there, I was certain the guards would drag me out, kicking and screaming. She must have read my mind because the next words that came out of her mouth had me hopping in the car.
“Look, the only cash I have on me is the tip money my sister used to pay the staff. I don’t know how much of it is left but it’s yours. I passed a train station a few miles down the road. I can take you there.”
While she was talking, I was putting on my seat belt because she’d already started the drive from the blackberry farm. Except, she didn’t go down the entrance road; she was taking a back street out of here that I hadn’t known existed. There wasprobably much I hadn’t known about because I hadn’t explored much on my short walk.
The car smelled like new leather and expensive perfume that I couldn’t identify. It was the first scent I’d inhaled that didn’t make me nauseous, though.
“Here, count this.”
She tossed a wad of cash onto my lap, and before it could hit the floor, I grabbed it. My heart was pounding just as fast as the car, my mind felt like it was spinning in circles, and the cool air blowing in my face from the vent irritated my eyes because of these thick lashes.
Instead of counting what was a mixture of tens, fives, and ones rubber-banded together, I kept blinking at the stack. I was trying to make sense of it all. My life had been feeling like a movie these last thirty days, and when I thought it was coming to an end – a dreadful one but an end nonetheless – I’d been thrust into the climax.
“You’re in shock,” she stated the obvious as she danced through traffic as if she were in a Nissan Altima instead of a seven-hundred-thousand-dollar car. She’d made a turn that had me gripping the dashboard and thinking my life was flashing before my eyes because I thought we were going to flip over. Once she ran the red light ahead, I grabbed my chest and turned in my seat to check on Mafia. As if this was a normal occurrence, she had her leg propped on the window while sipping from a sippy cup. The baby had more heart than I did.
If her driving wasn’t reckless, her pulling out her phone while doing thirty above the speed limit took the cake.
“Okay, the next train leaves in twenty minutes. Use the money to get a ticket to Jagoda Bay. You should make it there in about two hours.”
I nodded in response.
