5 Minutes and 42 Seconds Read Online Free PDF Page B

fuck you want?” Smokey responded.
    â€œIs you gonna take your clothes off, or did you just come to have my girl whoop your ass?” said Delroy.
    Smokey switched his Hawks throwback jersey and baggy Pelle Pelle jeans for the white boy’s plain, white T-shirt, too-short jeans shorts, and dog collar before heading toward the front door.
    â€œI don’t know where you’re heading” said Apples with a hint of her former bad attitude, “but you betta go the opposite way of them sidewalk workers to your left—they don’t really fix no sidewalks out here.” She pushed past him and opened the door.
    â€œSuck my dick, bitch!” he said as violently as he would have had he told her to drop dead. Still, he walked to the right.
    As soon as Smokey got out of the “workers’” line of sight, he ran in order to catch his ride.
    He saw her in the parking lot four blocks away in front of the beauty shop. She was about the height of her red Mercedes, but her blue beehive shot up above her, and her Mercedes like a pointer in the “Sims.” He saw some yellow flowers in the small garden that hedged the parking lot and grabbed three.
    â€œBoo,” said Smokey half-sensually and half-violently grabbing her by her broad hips.
    â€œBoy!” she screamed. “You scared the shit out of me,” said Dream, playfully hitting him on the shoulder in protest.
    â€œMy bad.” He smirked and handed her the flowers.
    â€œYou so sweet. Thank you, baby.” She tried kissing him but he zigged when she thought he would zag and her lips only grazed his cheek.
    The way she thanked him was more obligatory than her usual fawning. She didn’t even beg him to stay put so she could have her kiss.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with you?” asked Smokey, hoping she wasn’t growing complacent, or thinking she was worthy. If she was, he’d have to bring her back down to size. It would set him back a little, but he’d have to do it. He had to make sure she would belong to him when the time came.
    â€œWhat you mean?” she asked.
    Smokey could tell she wanted to bother him with her problems but didn’t know if she was allowed.
    â€œYou seem all mad and shit like you ’bout to put your Manolos through somebody’s forehead,” said Smokey, massaging her shoulders, giving her permission to vent.
    â€œIt’s Momma. She had us practicing again today. Talkin’’bout: ‘We don’t know when the feds is gonna come and shit.’”
    â€œThat’s true, though.”
    â€œI know, but she ain’t the one that got to get up and go to work in the morning. I been late I don’t know how many times ’cause of this bullshit. If her lazy ass had a real job she’d move these goddamn practices twelve hours back.”
    Smokey laughed. Dream didn’t. Smokey stopped.
    â€œSo you fuck somebody up today?” said Smokey, looking back at the shop fully expecting to see some woman walking out with her hair half blue and half red.
    â€œHell no! You know I can do some hair. But still…”
    â€œStill what?”
    â€œShe can’t be getting me involved with all this shit, Smokey. I can’t live my life like this no more. Something ain’t right about all this mess. I’m legit. Pretty soon I’ll have enough saved to open up my own shop. She can do whatever she want. Mess around and get locked up. Shit, I hope somebody does ask me something, ’cause I will testify against her black ass so quick—”
    â€œYou ain’t gonna say nothin’,” said Smokey, skeptically interrupting her rant. He was repelled by her disloyalty—until he remembered his own. “Well, you ain’t ’bout to say nothin’ ’bout Fashad, is you?”
    â€œNo! Baby, I would never do that to you! I know my stepdaddy’s your boss, and I ain’t ’bout to get y’all caught up.