Page 8 of Cove City: Vol. I

Zeus tucked his gun and stormed out of the shop, slamming my door so hard it shattered my glass.

“Fuck!” I shouted.

I needed to talk to Soho. I needed him to keep Pierre away because if I lost my man over this bullshit, Soho nor Pierre didn’t have to worry about Zeus because it would be me who does the damage and neither of them wanted to see that side of me.

I glanced down at the address Best had given me and then at the modest house I sat in front of. Best’s home was in the middle of a block in an old neighborhood that seemed to be struggling to survive.Noted.I pulled my tape recorder from my bag with a pen and a pad. I swung my door open only to hear a loud boom sound. When I glanced up, an all-black Benz that pulled alongside me had a dent. The guy quickly jumped out of the car, going off.

“Man fuck!Fuck you do to my shit. You not paying attention and dented my fucking car!” he screamed.

Panic set in because I didn’t have the money to pay for the damage. I was barely holding on to my insurance, which would surely increase my payments. I quickly got out of the car, stepping closer toward him. “I’m sorry, I- will—”

He shook his head and held his hand out to stop me. “I’m not hearing none of that shit. Give me your insurance information. Baby, you’ve got to pay for this.”

I fumbled through my purse for my phone to give him what he was asking for. The longer I took the more shit he talked, and it began to become annoying, so annoying that I snapped. “Wait a fucking minute!” I yelled. “I’m getting the information for you, but if you keep talking shit, I won’t give you anything.”

His tall stature came closer to me. His midnight complexion, thick brows rested over his dark, angry eyes. It was clear he wasagitated, and a lump formed in my throat because I wasn’t sure of his intentions. I could sense the heat he was giving off. When he sucked his teeth at me his pissy gold grills sparkled. He was handsome, with a hint of ugliness.

“Pierre Harmon!” a familiar voice called out.

His demeanor changed instantly as he glanced up. I turned to see Best standing on the other side of my car. She gave me a half smile. “I see you met my baby. This is my son, Pierre.”

I had to do a double take because there was no way this hood nigga belonged to Best’s quirky ass.I turned to him, snarling at me before he returned to his car, parking it parallel between mine and the one in front of me. The urge to try to explain to Best what happened fizzled on the tip of my tongue. “I hit his car,” I mumbled.

With a smile, she shook her head. “You let me worry about him. Come on, dinner is ready.”

I scooted my feet around the car to catch up with her while Pierre followed behind me still talking shit. “I still want your insurance information. Fuck is your name?” he gritted.

I tried ignoring him as I entered the house. Best moved so fast as she disappeared into another room leaving me with her bulldog ass son. I tried following behind her until he grabbed my wrist, spinning, and I swung on him. “Don’t fucking touch me!” I spat in a whispering tone.

“Calm your corny ass down. I asked your name. You are in my mother’s house.”

I uncomfortably ran my hand through my hair because he was right. It was his mother’s house, and as much as I wanted to go back and forth, I wasn’t into disrespecting my elders. Not to mention, if this is the son Best was talking about, I would need his help, so the only option I had at the moment was to be nice even if I didn’t want to. “I’m Tuesday,” I mumbled.

He gave a half laugh, “Yo ass act like a dry ass Tuesday too,” he shot.

My head flew back. “Fuck you,” I tried whispering.

“Never!”

The sound of plates clinking on the table and Best’s voice snapped us out of the battle in the tiny hallway. “Dinner is ready.”

I stood there with my arms crossed over my chest. Pierre glared at me, and I shrugged. “Lead the way. This is your mother’s house, remember?”

He moved past me and, before he led the way, turned around and leaned down to be eye level with me. “I don’t give a fuck how nice my mom is, and I don’t give a shit about what she’s talking about. You're not leaving this muhfucka without giving me your info. I want my shit fixed.” He gritted.

Pierre’s grit didn’t scare me. Instead, it made me want to challenge him. Little did he know I wasn’t giving him shit. I squinted my eyes as a smirk eased on my face. He rose and began to walk toward the dining room. When I whipped around the corner, I couldn’t believe the spread Best had curated. From fried fish, red beans and rice, green beans, and cornbread. The smell of the soul food tingled my nose, making my mouth water.

My eyes scanned over the table setting, and there were two more seats. “Are you expecting more people?” I asked.

“Yes, my daughter Paige and their father.”

I heard the sound of the chair screeching. “You going to sit down or keep me standing?” Pierre snapped.

I turned to look, and he’d pulled the chair out for me. I quickly eyed Best. She winked.So, the nigga does got manners.I stepped over toward the chair and sat. He gently pushed me closer to the table. He leaned down, and the sound of his chains clashing together met my ear before his lips did. “Don’t let thesegolds fool you. A nigga got manners, but yo dry ass still ain’t off the hook.”

A giggle left my lips. The thought of his mean ass being this masked gentleman tickled me. Pierre sat across from me while Best sat at the far end. Moments later, a pretty chocolate girl came into the dining room. She looked familiar, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Oo we have a gu—”

She paused when she saw me. “Tuesday Morning? What are you doing here?”

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