Page 10 of Ghetto Heartstrings
“Turn the TV off for a minute,” he told her.
Brook’Lynn rolled her eyes. “Un un nigga, this is the good part. I want to know if Tara is about to take Peter’s ass back.” She focused on the TV and not him.
Perfect grabbed the remote from her hand, turned it off, and tossed it on the opposite couch; he needed her to know this shit was serious.
“Now, why the hell would you do that?” She frowned, finally looking up into his face. The look in his eyes scared the shit out of her, causing her heart to drop… she knew something was wrong. “What happened Perfect?” she asked, squinting her eyes.
Taking a seat next to her, he decided to just say everything he had to say at once. He didn’t have time for the long dramatic TV shit that he always saw Brook’Lynn watching on Lifetime Network, that he hated so much. He swiped both of his hands over his waves and said it. “Baby, you know how we always had that conversation about what you should do if I ever had to leave or if anything ever happened to me?”
Brook’Lynn pierced her lips together, already feeling the tears stinging her eyes. “Get to the point.”
Fuck it, he thought. “Well, it’s about that time baby. I gotta bounce and this ain’t no couple of months’ type of ordeal Brook… this shit is more like a couple of years, so I’ma needyou to hold shit down like we always talked about,” he told her, reaching to grab her hand.
She snatched it back and stood up, now standing over him. “What the fuck you talking about Perfect? I know what kind of talks we had, and I never paid them shits no attention because you also promised you’d never leave me.”
Perfect knew she was gonna flip the fuck out, but at the same time, it was still a part of him that hoped she understood… he was seeing now that his assumptions were wrong. “Brook, don’t make this shit harder than what it has to be, man. When have I ever come to you with bullshit? Huh? The fact remains, I gotta bounce, or stay here and risk getting indicted; you wanna see a nigga in jail?” he asked in disbelief.
She was now pacing back and forth, trying hard not to go the fuck off. This was the reason her daddy didn’t want her fucking with no street niggas!How the fuck he just gonna leave me?she questioned to herself. “I’m going too then… fuck it!” She snapped with both her fists balled up, ready to haul off and punch his ass. “How the fuck are you just gonna stand here and tell me you about to bounce? Is that why you wanted me to fuck you like it was the last time?! Tell me, Perfect! And don’t lie!” She was now on 100, as her chest heaved in and out with her nostrils flared.
“What?!” Perfect frowned as his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “You trippin’ like a muthafucka right now Brook’Lynn; a nigga always treated you like royalty! You think I wanted to ask you to be my wife, just to turn around and have to leave you?! Fuck outta here with that dumb shit!” He walked past her, heading toward the room. Lucky for him, he already had his shit packed and, in the car, waiting for him.
Brook’Lynn rushed him from behind with tears in her eyes. Jumping on his back like a spider monkey, she swung with all her might! The feeling of her heart breaking into a million pieceswas one she’d never experienced before, and she now wished she would’ve listened to Brody’s ass. Had she had a good schoolboy with a legitimate life, he wouldn’t propose to her just to leave her.
“Ahh! Brook, get the fuck off of me, man! The fuck is you doing?!” He gently slung her from his backside, not wanting to hurt her. Pinning her arms down to the side, his heart broke while looking at the pain in her face.
“Let me go Perfect!” She squirmed before breaking down in his arms. “Just let me go man.” She cried, no longer holding back anything. From her soul, she let it out, not knowing what to expect. “The fuck you mean you leaving me, Perfect? We’re one, we move as one, always have and always will, remember?” She sniffed as she spoke to him in her now hoarse voice.
Pulling her close to his chest, Perfect held back his own tears and remained strong for her. “I know you gon’ be straight baby, just hold shit down and I’ma be back before you know it. Rasta gon’ take care of this shit for us, I promise you.” His heart was beating fast as fuck, and he was ready to get out of there and get this shit over with before he changed his mind. He already had all his shit in order, and he even purchased a track phone for her, just so she’d be able to talk to him whenever he called. He already knew that, once they left, it wouldn’t be no talking on any other phones.
Brook’Lynn managed to work up a massive headache in this short period of time, and whenever she experienced a horrible migraine, the only thing that could fix it was rest. Perfect knew her so well; he knew that she was in pain, so he picked her up cradle-style into his muscular arms and walked her to their bed, where he laid her down and rested right next to her until she cried herself to sleep. She hated that she could no longer function properly due to her migraine, but when she woke up, she planned on finishing where it ended.
Perfect sat next to her on the bed, looking into her sleeping, tear-stained face and sighed. His phones were blowing up and he didn’t have much longer. Placing soft kisses all around her face, he told her one more time how much he loved her and stood up to leave. When he made it to the room door he turned around and looked at her one more time. “I love you, ma. A nigga gon’ be back, I promise,” he whispered before flicking the light off. Walking out the door, he locked up and said goodbye to his girl, his home, and his comfort.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Brook’Lynn beat on Kema’s door, trying to knock the hinges off as the neighbors came peeking their head out of the doors while trying to find out what the confusion was all about. She’d been crying for the past two hours, ever since she rolled over and found Perfect had already left. Rolling her eyes with one hand on her hip, she cursed them all out as they quickly closed the doors back, not wanting to be in a direct conflict with the angry young lady. “The fuck ya’ll looking at? Mind your fucking business… nosey bitches!” she fussed and then focused back on the door. “Kema! Open the fucking door!”
A few seconds later, the heavy dark oak door swung open, as Kema stood there with red eyes while smoking a blunt. She wore a multicolored scarf over her short brown hair, a baby tee that exposed all her many tats, and a pair of boy shorts. Leaning up against the door, she exhaled a cloud of smoke and crossed one arm over her chest. “The hell you come over here making allthis noise for?” Kema asked calmly, already knowing what the problem was.
Brook’Lynn turned her nose up and pushed past Kema, storming into the house. “C2! Where the fuck you at!” She ran up the stairs and came back down a few seconds later, checking every other nook and crack of the house. When she realized he wasn’t there, she stopped and saw that Kema was sitting on the couch just staring. “Don’t fuck with me, Kema. Bitch, where these niggas at?!”
Kema chuckled and hit the joint again. “Bitch, your guess is just as good as mine. They gone Brook’Lynn… face it. Them niggas left us out here in the jungle to fend for ourselves.”
Brook’Lynn shook her head and sat across from Kema. “Nah bitch, I don’t know what the fuck C2 left you to fend for.” She stopped to point at her. “But, my nigga ain’t leave me to fend for shit alone; fuck what you talking about.”
“Regardless of what you say, them niggas are gone Brook’Lynn… GONE! And now we have a shit load of bills and shit to keep up with.” Kema frowned.
Brook’Lynn removed her white sweater with the silver lettering from thePinkstore and sat it next to her, trying to calm down. “This shit don’t make any sense; what the fuck spooked them to just leave? Something ain’t right,” she said, trying to make sense of the situation.
Kema scooted to the edge of the couch and crossed both her perfectly manicured hands in front of her. “Okay, so make it make sense for me then, Brook’Lynn.”
Brook’Lynn sighed and stared down at her engagement ring. “I don’t know Kee,” she replied, calling her by her nickname. “I don’t fucking know, but what I do know is, I got the money. Well, as much as I may need.”
“So do I,” Kema said. “But, how long would that shit last?”
Brook’Lynn thought about it, and Kema was right, but regardless of what the situation was, she already knew she was gonna hold him down, no matter what. That was her nigga, no matter how bad her heart may have been hurting. Sitting back on the couch as the wheels spun in her head, she needed to come up with a plan. A weak bitch would spend everything a nigga worked so hard for, but a real bitch would flip that shit and make sure that nigga had double when he came back.
Kema knew the look on her friend’s face. “Bitch, what you thinking? And don’t hold out on me.”
