Page 127 of Quasim III: King Inferno

Recommendation: Listen to Dreaming by Pop Smoke

The engines revved as Zuri took a pull of her black and mild and looked over at us. “And when I smoke you, your tongue should only be used to lick the inside of my pussy.”

“Promise?” Fendi laughed, looking at her.

She sighed. “Not really… can’t lick this pussy if my brother put his hands on you. You too soft, Fendi.”

His butt hurt ass tightly gripped the steering wheel as shorty waved the flag, and we flew away from the starting line. Each time I looked over, she was maneuvering the whip with a black and mild tucked between her lips, like it was nothing.

“She gaining on yo stupid ass,” I told him like his ass wasn’t silently freaking out because she was hitting the corners like a pro.

We raced up 41ststreet until we made it onto the highway. Each time we gained on her, she switched sides, making it impossible for him to get in front of her.

“Fucking bitch!” He screamed and hit the steering wheel, switching lanes and stomping on the gas, as she continued to apply pressure. “Bout to run this bitch off the side.”

“Not with me in the fucking car!” I screamed, the pills letting me know they were working, so now I was scared as shit.

She stomped on her brake, and whipped around a slow-moving car, almost causing us to run into the whip. “Bitch too nice…there’s three bitches that I hate… Zuri, Shai, and fucking Star Cromwell.” He growled, saying their names.

“Just say you hate women, nigga.”

“Cocky bitches.” He was talking more to himself than he was me.

That familiar sound echoed in my ear as a red bike zoomed fast by us. With the way Fendi was driving, we got near the bike, and the person held up their index finger and middle finger together with their thumb extended, making a gun, and then bent the thumb twice as if to signal they fired a gun.

“Who the fuck is that on the bike? You saw that shit” I was nearly holding onto the damn dashboard with my chest beating out of control.

“Shut the fuck up, Polo!” Fendi hollered while focused on trying to get around this bitch, who was smoking his ass.

We were neck and neck with the bike and the person flipped up their visor and I saw their eyes. Those light color eyes and intense stare were so fucking familiar. He flipped it back down and then zipped right in front of us, causing Fendi to stomp on his brake again, and he was gone.

“Who the fuck was that?” My hand was rested on my chest like a grandma that had a big fright.

“I don’t fucking know… tighten the fuck up, I’m trying to win.” At this point, it was the anger making him delusional, because as she curved around to head back to the finish line, I knew this nigga wasn’t winning shit.

As she whipped around, Aimee sat in the window with both her middle fingers pointed at us, then she slid back down into her seat.

“You cute fucking bitch!” I hollered at them.

With the way Fendi was busting up the street to beat her, I closed my eyes because I knew we were going to lose.

Fendi lost and Kano was there to whip that nigga’s ass. I got the fuck off the block and headed to the mansion party. We was paying all this money to rent that bitch out and niggas was probably drinking all our liquor and fucking our bitches.

I was ready to drink and fuck while balling the fuck out tonight. The one lesson I learned tonight was never to take that many pills because I was tripping the fuck out, but I hit a smooth walk as I sauntered into the mansion.

Bitches were barely dressed and there were bottles opened everywhere. “This what the fuck I needed!” I yelled over the music at Brock who was already feeling that honey pack with his freaky ass.

He had already grabbed a shorty up and was rubbing up on her. This nigga was going to get a sexual assault case with the way he be moving.

“We got you drinks… get in on this blackjack game!” One of our homies yelled from the kitchen.

They had the circular dining table filled with weed, pills, and coke, along with jewelry, money and then poker chips and cards. It was high stakes because a nigga had his key fob sitting among the pile of shit.

“Who the fuck grill is that?” I looked at the gold teeth sitting on the damn table, drool still attached to the bitch like they just put it down.

When I sat down, I recognized everyone except one of the niggas. He had his hair pulled up in a bun with a nose piercing on one side of his nose. Tattoos covered his arms, and a simple gold chain hung around his neck.

“Where you from?” I asked as they dealed me my cards.

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