Page 21 of Cove City: Vol. I

“June!” Zaria yelled.

She hopped out of the Chevy, strutting over. “You cannot be doing this shit!” she yelled.

He eyed her, “Z, go get in the car. You out here yelling with my fucking seed in you. Fuck is wrong with you! Huh?”

“This is your sister’s boyfriend!”

“I don’t give a fuck about this nigga.”

“Nigga, I don’t give a fuck about you! Coming to my fucking city. Nigga, I run this muhfucka!”

Chevy rushed in his face, “Nigga, do you? Because I can’t tell. This muhfucka fucked up. Don’t worry, I’m going to fix that, though.” He winked.

I rushed over to push Chevy back because Bishop’s words were getting him fired up. Chevy wanted that nigga’s head. Zaria pulled at his arm until he was back in the car, and Freckles had gotten in my car. She was pissed, but honestly, I didn’t give a fuck. Pierre stared at her as he walked to the driver’s side. I could tell the nigga wanted to say something to her. I slammed my hand on the hood of the car, “You a dead nigga!” I said before getting in.

I knew Freckles and I were about to argue, but tonight I would have to take her blows because there was no way Pierre was safe around me.

Icouldn’t believe my date was ruined by some childish shit. I was in the passenger seat, mad as hell. If I hadn’t been curious before about who Pierre was either messing with or if he had a girlfriend, curiosity had struck me. The girl was beautiful, like any man's dream, and I couldn’t lie, she made me feel mediocre. When Pierre got into the car, the first thing he did was look at me. I kept my eyes straight because I was embarrassed. How did I think this nigga was somewhat interested in me.

He pulled out of the parking lot and decided to now focus his attention on me. “Are you going to say something?”

I said nothing. At this point all I wanted was my fucking story. I dug in my purse and pulled out my pen and pad. I began jotting down what happened.

“You’re going to scribble in that dumbass note pad and not say anything?”

I was upset, so upset that I couldn’t help it. “Who is she?”

“My ex,” he bluntly said.

“If she is your ex, why were you acting that way?”

“It’s about respect, not her.”

“Lies!” I snapped.

“What?”

“I said fucking lies. That back there.” I pointed behind me. “That was someone who was jealous. Jealous that someone else had something he once did.”

Pierre said nothing. As he continued to drive, I noticed we weren’t going in the direction of my hotel. He’d turned onto a residential street. It was beautiful and much like Lake Hill, but in this one area, “Where are we?” I asked.

Pierre still hadn’t said a word. Instead, he pulled into a long driveway lit up by blue lights. The home was the most breathtaking place that I’ve seen. I was used to seeing luxury homes, but something about this was different. When he’d finally parked, he got out and came to open my door. “Welcome to my home.”

“You live here?”

“I said that, didn’t I? Let me get you inside because you're bleeding.”

I glanced down at my dress and saw that where I had been shot, blood had seeped through my clothing.Shit!Hesitantly, I followed behind him. Pierre was an interesting person. It was his bluntness, his sincerity, and his guilt that made him stand out. It made you want to learn more. Once we were inside, I couldn’t help but admire the place. It was much different than Best’s place. The modern, yet simple décor was lovely, and the blue accent wall and small, timeless pieces placed throughout gave each space a sense of life. What captured me the most was the smell. It smelled of fresh linen with a touch of peppermint.

Pierre tossed his keys on the table near the door and began to walk off, “Make yourself comfortable. Let me grab something to clean you up.”

As he disappeared down the hall, my eyes became fixated on the wall in the foyer. It had images that told a story. It was a series of pictures intentionally placed chronologically, from his youth to the present. There were pictures of a younger Best, and she was nothing to play with. A giggle fell from my lips. It was Pierre and I would assume his brother and they damn near looked alike. There was Paige, Bishop, another guy who was at the lounge, and her. The girl that Pierre said was his ex.

“It’s my life,” I heard him whisper in my ear, scaring me.

I jumped as I placed my hand on my chest. I tried turning around, but he stopped me. “Keep looking at it. Don’t move,” his voice deepened, becoming seductive.

His hands tickled my thigh as he inched my dress up. I don’t know if the silk fabric caressing my skin sent tingling through me or the tip of his fingers that found their way to my skin. My eyes closed as my arms followed suit, lifting to allow him to pull the dress completely off. I was now standing in the foyer with only a black thong on. His breath wrapped around my neck as he had now fully stood. Pierre came around to the side of me, stepping closer into my space. “I said, keep your eyes on the wall.”

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