Page 21 of Hellcat Barbies: Imani
He leans in, kissing the hell out of me, then climbs off the bed. He places my clothes and mini tote on the bed, scoops his clothes off the floor, then walks into his bathroom. When his door closes, I scoot over and grab my bag. I need to let Draya know that I’m fine and not in jail so I shoot her a quick text. She doesn’t respond; she’s probably in court. I send a group message next to Aubree and Breezy.
Me: They fired me.
Aubree:Fuck them!
Breezy:Oh no. Are u okay?
Me: I am now.
Aubree:Come home ?
Me: CF is my home now
Breezy:But we’re here if you need us. For anything.
Me: I know but I’m fine frfr.
They both heart my last text and I smile. I can always count on my Hellcat Barbies when I need them. When I place my phone back into my bag, I grab a band and put my locks up into a high bun. Then, I ease out of his bed and gingerly amble to his wall to be nosey. I’m truly curious about his massive selection of books.
My eyes scan and my fingers trace many of the spines and I see that his collection is diverse: fiction, non-fiction, financial, autobiographies, history, and motivational. I recognize a few authors, Donald Goines, E. Jerome Dickey, Iceberg Slim, Percival Everett, and Blake Karrington. There are two shelves dedicated to one author, Dr. Trey Evans. I pull one of his books,Reclaiming the Throne.
“You’ve read Dr. Evans?” His baritone startles me and I turn to see him walking out of the bathroom. Thank God there’s a towel covering his lower half I’m trying to focus on these books and I don’t need a distraction.
“No, I haven’t. Have you read all of these?’ I ask because the Reclaiming the Throne looks like at least an eight-book series.
“On the shelf? Or all of his?”
“Both actually,” I admit because his collection is extensive.
“All of them,” he says when he’s standing behind me. “I had a lot of free time for forty-two months.”
“Months?” I question then turn to face him. “Who counts time in..,” I begin but then it hits me.Months…time…prison.I’m not new to this and I’m definitely not green. “Federal or state?” I ask and his eyes squint like he wasn’t expecting my question.
“Fed in Philly. I jumped two years ago and paroled here.”
“Are you still on papers?”
“No. I paid my retribution and fees off early and my P.O. recommended release. They only care about the money anyway.”
“Let me guess, pharmaceuticals?” I ask then smirk and I notice a slight grin on his face.
“Yea but not organized like now. I’m not into no street shit.”
“Is that what these books are about?”
“Nah. Dr. Evans is legit. His books focus on Black men and us reclaiming our thrones as Black Kings. It’s some real deep shit that makes you think.” He steps closer to me and places his hand under my chin. While cupping it, he stares down into my eyes and asks, “You don’t have any more questions about my bid?”
“No, no questions.”
“Good but if you have any, just ask.”
“I will.” I lift up on the balls of my feet then kiss him. “Can I take a shower?”
“Of course. We could have taken one together though,” he says before tapping my ass. “Would have been much better.” He lightly licks his bottom lip.
“To shower with you, I’m going to need food. A girls got to eat to keep up with you.”
“I got you. Go shower; everything you need is inside.”
