Page 42 of Ghetto Heartstrings
He looked down at her ring finger and was still kind of salty that she hadn’t put her ring back on but he wasn’t going to address it right now, that shit would wait. All he knew was she better had tightened her ass up, as soon as she got home, he was putting that shit right back on her finger.
“Okay baby, I’ll be back tonight. I’ma bring you some food too cause I know you don’t want this gook shit they feeding you.”
She laughed again, “Boy, they don’t need feed people gook here, the food is actually good! Don’t bring me no food.”
“What I say?” He asked.
She knew it was no use arguing with him.
“Okay,” she mumbled.
This time he kissed her lips before walking out.
As soon as he got outside, he was able to breath normal again. This shit was really fucking with him, niggas were expected to be so fucking strong, and he was really trying. He couldn’t wait to get in the car and roll up a joint cause he needed it. He sat right there in the parking lot behind his tints and rolled up before lighting up so he could smoke. He turned his radio on and played some Tupac ‘Hit ‘Em Up’:
First of all, fuck your bitch and the clique you claim
Westside when we ride, come equipped with the game
You claim to be a player, but I fucked your wife
We bust on Bad Boys, niggas fucked for life
He was trying to get his shit together while minding his business and puffing on his shit when he realized that Wise car was parked right across from him a couple of cars down. He was surprised to see Marley getting out of the passenger side trying to adjust her scrubs and run her fingers through her betty boop hairstyle with a silly little girlish look on her face as he wondered what the hell her little lame self was doing getting out of Wise car. Wise waited until Marley was inside the hospital before he got out, trying not to make it obvious.
Perfect rolled down the window, “Uh huh you busted nigga! They gon’ lock yo ass up for fucking with that nerd…you know you too much for that girl. Why you trying to turn her ass out? Got her all in the parking lot getting’ her muthafuckin’ freak on when she need to be her ass upstairs with my baby!” He joked trying to stay in good spirits.
Wise looked around and followed the smell of that good shit, “All in the people parking lot though?” He asked smirking, “They gon’ lock yo ass up talkin’ about me and shit.”
“Nah man, I’m out but I’ll be back, hit me up.” He gave him pound and backed out.
Five minutes later he was in front of Rasta’s house just staring, this was the first time he was about to holla at him since he’d been back and he wasn’t really looking forward to it, what hereally wanted to do was gag. Perfect was a firm believer that people could live how they wanted, he had nothing against gay people but what he did have a problem with was they way they chose to live their lives in the dark making everybody else suffer behind they bullshit.
He hopped out wearing his black Saint Laurent shades covering his red eyes since he was high as a kite. That was the only way he was going to be able to even face Rasta, he needed to be mellow to prevent from breaking his fucking jaw. He wasn’t going to say shit about what he knew yet; he was going to see how long Rasta was going to keep this bullshit ass fiasco up since he didn’t know that they all knew the truth, shit he’d already figured the Feds weren’t even thinking about they asses.
“So, ya’ll ain’t gon’ check me today, huh?” Said Perfect when Rasta’s crew didn’t do the usual and let him walk right in.
Rasta walked from the back smoking a fat cigar, “Don’t disrespect my people son.”
“You don’t think that’s some disrespectful ass shit to have these niggas searching your own son when he tries to visit his dad?” He asked looking at him sideways.
“Did they check you today?” He asked all cocky.
Perfect couldn’t even look at him the same anymore when he looked at the man, fucking booty bandit. “Man, what’s up? Enough with the small talk.” Perfect tried to switch up on his attitude not wanting to make him suspicious of anything.
“Have a seat.” Rasta told him as they both took a seat on the huge butter leather sectional inside of Rasta’s game room. As usual, there were topless bitches and thongs all over the game room shooting a game with each other.
Perfect looked at his watch, “I don’t have a lot of time so before you ask why we came back, let me tell you this. I’m not fuckin’ runnin’ from nobody, whatever happens just fuckin’ happens, that’s it…next?”
Rasta shook his head and pulled his dreads from his face not knowing what to think about his stubborn ass son, so instead of speaking anymore on that issue, he addressed the next, “So you got any word on who robbed me? Cause I promise you, if you don’t fix this shit, I’ma make the niggas pay. Young niggas tryin’ my patience since they don’t see my face much but maybe I’m gon’ have to start reminding niggas.”
Perfect shrugged his shoulders, “Nah, I don’t know.”
The way Rasta looked at him, he didn’t like the shit one bit, “Is that right? So, you mean to tell me you can find out who robbed them other niggas, but you can’t find out who robbed our spot?” He picked up a bottle of Remy and poured himself a shot before downing it.
“I’m working on it.” He lied.
“I want my fuckin’ money and you should too.”
