Page 21 of Heart of a Savage
“And I don’t. Papa Lo would never betray his family that way. Ya ass is just drunk and talking mad reckless. Go home, Arieana, or I’ma drag ya ass out of here.”
“Fuck you, Paige. You’re my sister, not my fucking mama. You ain’t gotta believe me, but I’m going to get to the bottom of it.”
I snatched up my bottle and walked out of the VIP area. Maybe I was in my feelings and shouldn’t have come out tonight after seeing my dad. I thought coming here would ease my troubled mind, but that proved to be a freaking bust. I was lashing out at the people I loved because my father had hurt my feelings. I needed to get out of here and get some rest.
As I maneuvered through the crowd, I was too busy texting Marcus that I collided with someone, getting liquor spilled all over me.
“Damn it! You can’t see where you’re going?” I yelled, looking down at the brown stain on my three-hundred-dollar Givenchy blouse.
“My apologies. I got distracted.”
I looked up at the voice and wanted to curse his fine ass out, but his piercing dark eyes caught my tongue. He had me mesmerized, which had never happened to me before. It was almost as if he was hypnotizing me while we stared at one another.
Arie ... snap out of it.
“Here. Let me pay for my mistake.” He reached inside his Les Gianni jeans and slipped an Amex from the slot of his wallet. He extended the card to me as I finally shook from my haze.
“Do you always give your cards away to strangers?”
“I don’t, but for you I will.”
“I could take that card and max it out... Then what?”
He smirked. “You can’t max out a card that has no limit. Allow me to extend my apologies by paying for your dry cleaning... or shopping spree.”
My eyes perused him from head to toe. I could tell he wasn’t just some typical hood booger. He had an aura about him that whispered he was a boss in his own right. His hair was cut low but threaded from his scalp like thick silk. His Les Gianni three-button collared shirt and denim jeans rested gracefully on his medium-built frame. Trailing my eyes further down, I couldn’t tell which bulge was bigger—the money roll or his dick.
“You’re staring at me like you want to fuck me and kill me. That ain’t gon’ solve the problem, mama. Either take the card or move around.”
“Or kill you... that option doesn’t sound too bad.”
“You wouldn’t make it out of this club alive, shorty. Let’s not throw out empty threats. I’d hate to have to hurt such a beautiful woman.”
I laughed. Loud. “You know what... I like you, so I’m going to let you walk away. I don’t want nor need your money, nigga. With the way I’m feeling, you better be glad I’m walking away instead of putting one in your big-ass forehead. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
I bumped him as I headed to my office to get my shit and leave. I was over tonight. I just hoped that spending Mother’s Day with my mom tomorrow would make me feel better.
One Hour Before…
Club Lucid was live. I couldn’t front as if I wasn’t intrigued by the dancers and the overall vibes when we walked in. The dancers looked tasteful, and that said a lot. Most strip clubs I’d visited had the same old tacky women with bullet wounds and cigarette burns on their asses. Mo said the club was elite, and he didn’t lie.
After Harvey’s cousin, Marlo, let us in without searching us, we made our way to the VIP section, where Harvey was sitting with ten baddies surrounding him. I smirked, looking at my nigga, seemingly happy and enjoying himself.
“Look at this scrub coming to my city trying to flex!” Mike yelled over the music.
Harvey looked up and smiled widely. “My niggas! What’s the deal?” He stood and hugged Mike and Mo as I stood back with my arms folded. “Fuck wrong with this nigga? You too good to show ya brother some love, my G?” he asked me with that goofy-ass smirk on his face.
“Nah ... I’on hug fake niggas,” I replied, holding back my humor.
“Come on, Si. I wanted to surprise you, nigga. We ain’t seen each other in a minute.”
“Well, I’m surprised, bitch.” We stared at each other for a second before we both laughed and hugged one another. “It’s good to see you, bro. Happy birthday, my baby.”
“Thanks, brodie. I feel like I’m getting old as shit, man. I’ll be forty next year. Can you believe that shit?”
“We both will, but we’re aging like fine wine, my guy.”
“Indeed, we are,” he agreed.
