Page 1 of The Hellcat Barbies: Aubree
CHAPTER 1
AUBREE
Playfully,I batted my lashes at Nice as he complimented me. He’d been complimenting me almost nonstop for the past hour. Everything from my teeth, skin, eyes and shape to my hobbies and interests. Placing the last scoop of apple cobbler into my mouth, I subtly shook my head.
“You don’t have to gas me, baby.”
“I don’t do no gassing, shorty. If you like that you like that. And you’re damn sure like that. Why you think I been so pressed to get you?”
“You really want me to answer that?” I joked as the server came over and dropped the bill in front of him.
He wasn’t lying because pressed was the perfect word to describe his pursuit. Nice had tried for months to get my number before I finally gave in. It wasn’t that I was against dating. I was against wasting my time. Time was something I didn’t have a lot of. I had joined the content creator wave a few years back, and it was currently my full-time income. Between the views I got from YouTube, Instagram, TikTok and the brand deals I acquired, I was making more money than I could have ever dreamed. I’d just secured a deal with a major retail brand, and not only did they let me go into the store and get whatever I wanted, themoney they paid me for a six-month contract was enough for me to pay my mortgage for one year.
I was twenty-seven years old, making five figures a month. Damn right, I worked hard because I was so afraid that the wave would end before I was ready to stop riding it. So, even though I had enough tucked away to cover one year of mortgage payments, I was still saving money to fall back on in case some shit happened with social media. Like the time they tried to ban TikTok. Even during a light month, I could clear $10,000 from social media alone.
One of the reasons I did so well with my content was because I didn’t do the usual, ‘come to the gym and Pilates and to get matcha and go shopping with me,’ type content. I drove a purple Dodge Challenger Hellcat, and I played football on a girls’ team. Riding ATV’s and going fishing for fun or even on dates were my thing. I was the type to bust out mid-conversation with my friends and say some shit like, ‘Let’s go camping.’
I could definitely get on my tomboy steeze, but I could put that shit on and be girly and sexy too. For the past hour, the fact that I played football, was in a car club, and was so damn fine had been the basis for all of Nice’s compliments. He was a cool guy. Around six feet, dark skin, not the cutest person as far as looks, but his swag and demeanor gave him a sexy vibe. From what I knew about Nice, he was a no-nonsense type of guy, and he didn’t play.
Nice smirked at my question as he used his tongue to move the toothpick that was dangling between his lips to the corner of his mouth. “It damn sure can’t be because I’m thirsty. I don’t even be on these broads like that. I mind my business.”
“I hear you.” I grabbed my glass and wrapped my lips around the straw. The strawberry lemonade at the diner where we were having lunch had some of the best food. It wasn’t expensive at all, but it was my option for my first date with Nice because I hadtasted damn near everything on the menu, and everything was delicious.
Nice was the typical street nigga. I hadn’t heard a lot about him, but the chicks he was tied to fit the usual dope boy aesthetic. Bad bitch, fat ass, lots of make-up, long nails, longer hair, thick lashes. I wasn’t pressed for love nor was I pressed for kids or marriage. If it happened, it happened, but I didn’t desire it to the point of desperation. A lot of men gave me the ick because if they didn’t have immature mindsets then they were screwing half the city and neither one was appealing to me. I didn’t care about a man having clout or money. I had both and didn’t need his.
Nice pushed up slightly, so he could reach in his pocket and pull-out his money. The total for our food was $51.26, and he dropped $60.00 on the table.
“I’m going to the bathroom. Wait for me.”
I gave a simple nod as I sat back. I had eaten like a pig, and I felt like one. Thank God, I had football practice the next day. Playing sports had me with a six-pack that I was proud of, toned calves, thick thighs, and a booty that sat up just right. I wasn’t super thick. At 5’8, I weighed 140 pounds, and that wasn’t a lot for my height in my opinion. I was slim-thick, but my curves came from being fit and not from body fat. I didn’t overdo it, however. I wasn’t muscular and masculine looking. When I looked in the mirror, I was proud of my body.
I couldn’t eat like shit all the time and endure an hour-long practice twice a week, so for the most part, I ate healthy. Football was for fun. It wasn’t for money or any kind of accolades, so I never felt guilty when I did take down twelve wings fried hard or a Philly cheesesteak because I knew I’d work it off. As I stretched and grabbed my phone off the table, I thought about what I’d do for the rest of the day. My back was to the door of the diner.I heard someone being greeted, but I didn’t turn around to see who it was.
My head was down as I scrolled through my phone. The hostess and another person walked by me. She seated him, and a few seconds passed before I lifted my head to see if Nice was coming. I inadvertently locked eyes with a guy sitting at the table across from the booth I was seated in, and the way he was staring at me sent chills up my spine. I frowned a bit before looking away. His eyes were bloodshot, and he needed to shave badly. The stubble on his face aged him. I could tell if he got a haircut and shaved, he might be a decent looking man. What I didn’t understand was why he was staring at me like I owed him money. I eased out of the booth to wait for Nice outside, and the guy stood up too.
“Why the fuck you think it’s cool to play with me?” he advanced toward me, and I could smell the alcohol seeping out of his pores.
“Nigga, what?” I drew back. I had no clue who he was or what he was talking about. He stepped closer to me, and my frown deepened as I backed up hitting the booth behind me. “You better get the fuck out of my face.”
Turning my back on him was probably the wrong thing to do. But I wanted to get away from him. I also didn’t want to cause a scene in the diner. Hopefully, Nice would be out soon. I pushed the door hard and didn’t attempt to hold it. The man came barreling through the door right behind me. When he grabbed my arm, I whirled around and hit him in the face as hard as I could. Physically, I knew I couldn’t beat a man, but my reaction was pure reflex.
“Get the hell off me! What is wrong with you?!”
The blow made his head snap back, but he kept a firm grip on my arm. As I tried to snatch away from him, Nice exited thediner with a frown on his face. “Fuck is going on?” he grabbed my other arm, and the niggas began to play tug of war with me.
“Let me go!” I jerked away from the crazed stranger. Nice let my arm go and punched the man in the face causing him to stumble backward hitting the door of the diner.
Nice’s fists were still balled, when he looked over his shoulder. “Who is this? I thought you said you were single.”
“I am single. I don’t even know him. He smells like alcohol, so maybe he’s drunk, but he’s tripping I do know that.”
While I tried to explain to Nice that I had no clue who the stranger was, he had time to pull a gun. As my eyes widened with shock, I was paralyzed with fear and frozen in place. Nice lunged at the man, and the gun went off with a deafening pop. I watched in horror as Nice beat the brakes off the man while my shoulder began to feel as if someone had lit a match and held it against my flesh. The burning was so uncomfortable that I turned to look at my shoulder just as I felt blood trickling down my arm.
When I came to the realization that the man had shot me, my heart began to hammer in my chest. I didn’t even know this damn man, and he had shot me. My hands began to tremble as I unlocked my phone and dialed 9-1-1. Whether it was from blood loss fear, or both, I began to feel lightheaded. The gun toting stranger was on the ground knocked out cold when Nice finally noticed that I’d been shot.
“What the fuck?”
Life began to move in slow motion for me as he took his shirt off and applied pressure to the wound. “Ahhhh,” I gritted my teeth as tears filled my eyes.
