Page 93 of Rah
“You’re gonna make me get in that bed with you,” she answered as she licked her lips.
“What’s wrong with that?”
“A lot, silly,” she replied with a giggle.
“Shiiiid, why?”
“You’re healing. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I didn’t get shot in my dick,” I replied, biting my bottom lip, admiring the camel toe in her leggings.
“Watch your mouth around the baby,” she warned me, but Trenton wasn’t paying us any attention. Just in case, Kahlanitook out her headphones, plugged them into his tablet and put them on.
“Youbetter watch your mouth aroundme,” I said, palming my hard dick.
She tried to look appalled, but I caught her gazing at my long, thick erection that was stabbing its way through the sheets.
“Anyway...” she said, playfully rolling her eyes. “What you been doing all day?”
I decided to let her change the subject. But the next time she came into the room alone, I was going to lose myself inside of her.
“I was writing a song.”
“Really?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah. But don’t worry. I’m not working with Rah anymore. I’m done with rapping.”
“You don’t have to completely quit rapping, Moses. You shouldn’t quit altogether. You have a fan-base that’s gonna miss you. They miss you already.”
That was true. Since news of me getting shot had hit social media, all of my comment sections and DM’s were full of fan mail and condolences. My likes on Instagram were nearly half a million now. My TikTok was growing more followers every time I made a post from my hospital bed, showing my progress. Twitter was jumping with the hashtag #RestWellMoses. My songs and videos were getting more and more views and streams on YouTube and other streaming platforms. With these new followers, my next song probably would have been an even bigger hit, but...
“I’m straight,” I replied, shaking my head confidently.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure I never wanna workwith Rah again. He was putting the money behind my name, and this was his dream. I’m not taking money from our household to fund a dream that may never come true. The money from the streams aren’t enough, and Rah has the password to those distribution accounts. The money from the shows is good, but my contract with Rah ties him to all of that. After everything that’s happened, I’d rather just walk away from it all.”
“What about the meeting with Interscope that Rah told you about? Maybe you can meet with Interscope yourself and ex Rah out of the deal altogether. You don’t need him. He needs you.”
“I’m starting to question whether there was really a meeting with Interscope.”
“Really? You think he would lie about something like that?”
I thought about it, visions of Rah killing his own best friend dancing in my head, and said, “Hell, yeah.”
“Maybe you should ask him yourself?” she suggested.
“Rah?”
“No,” Kahlani answered with a frown. “The guy at Interscope that he said hit him up about you after hearing your music. Do you know his name?”
“Yeah, I do. I followed him on Instagram after Rah told me that he was interested.”
“Maybe you should DM him before you give up.”
She was right. That meeting would be my ticket out of this situation, and I could have just gone without Rah. So, I opened my Instagram app went to Eli Stical’s Instagram and sent him a direct message to call me.
By the time that Kahlani found a show that she wanted to watch on the TV, my cell was ringing. I didn’t expect it to be Eli. I had been getting so many calls from family, friends, and niggas in the street, who vowed to find out who hadshot me so that they could revenge. Little did they know, though Carlos had shot me, the motherfucker that needed to be in a body bag was the nigga that was supposed to have my back.
