Page 4 of Safe Word
“Fuck them folks, Carrie,” I told her, casually lifting my shoulders.
“You’re right. I’m too drunk to be worried about how these folks feel. Take a shot with me.”
“You know I don’t drink on the job.”
“You’re no fun.” She pouted.
I watched as she placed a pink tablet on her tongue before taking the shot in her hand down. Many of my celebrity clients indulged in mind-altering drugs. I wasn’t there to judge. I was here to protect her and make sure she was able to enjoy herselfwithout interference. Just as quick as that thought passed, I saw her handler slash boyfriend breeze into the room with four other niggas flanking him.
It was a small entourage considering we were dealing with Cy the Great. I couldn’t knock his talent. He was one of the best rappers out right now. His mix of old-school and new age rap seemed to work for him. The nigga was pretty good. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a bitch made punk. I didn’t like the way he treated Carrie, but that shit wasn’t my business.
As her friend, it was my job to be objective and let her figure out what was best for her. I didn’t get into relationship shit. It wasn’t like I was an expert on the matter myself. Still, I hated him. I could tell when she spotted his ass because her shoulders dropped. Even though it was her party, he didn’t seem to be looking for her as he worked the room, flirting with a few of the women in attendance as he moved around.
“Well, I guess that’s my cue not to have any more fun.”
“This is your night, Carteay. Enjoy it.”
“I’ll try. You be good. Don’t let none of these groupies pull you into a back room.”
I chuckled. “I’ll try to resist.”
She took another deep breath before standing and sauntering over to where her man stood waiting as if this were his party. He didn’t budge when she wrapped her arms around his waist. I really couldn’t stand that nigga.
Carteay was gorgeous and talented, and just because everybody else treated him like he was King Tut, the nigga thought he had the right to make her feel like she didn’t deserve him. I hated fuck boys with a passion. She said their relationship was a publicity stunt, but I didn’t give a damn. I hated him for her.
Cy leaned down kissing her forehead and giving her just enough affection to make her put on a fake smile. I kept my eyeson her as she moved away from him, only to notice her grabbing a bottle of white liquor and moving back over to where his weak ass stood and passing it to him. This was her fucking party. Why was she serving him? That was none of my business. Only her safety was.
When he threw his arm over her shoulder and escorted her out of the room, I was tempted to move. He had his boys with him, but they were here for him. I was here for Carrie. Not wanting to get in the way of whatever he had planned for her in one of those back rooms, I held in place.
I noticed that the music had changed. It was a little after midnight, so I had to assume that the listening party was wrapping up. It had been about fifteen minutes since Carteay and Cy disappeared into one of those back rooms. There was no telling what they were up to. Well, actually, it didn’t take a fool to figure it out.
Pushing off the couch, I stood and followed the path that led to the hallway where they’d gone. The first thing I noticed was Cy’s goons standing outside of a door. I approached them to tell them to let Carteay know I was leaving, but the commotion I heard on the other side of the door halted my steps.
“Hold up, nigga,” one of them said, putting his forearm up to stop me before I got close to him.
“I would advise you to move the fuck around,” I warned him. The warning was a courtesy. It was the only one he would get.
“You can’t go in there,” another one of Cy’s minions chimed in.
“I wasn’t thinking about going in until you tried to stop me. What the fuck is all that commotion?”
“They’re probably just having a disagreement. We stay out of that shit.”
A scowl covered my face as I pushed past him and grabbed the doorknob. The door was locked.
“Carrie!” I called, hoping she would answer the door.
One of Cy’s boys was dumb enough to fucking grab me. His hand clamped down on my shoulder, and before he could speak, my hand was on top of his. My grip on his hand nearly crippled him as I sent an elbow into his boy’s nose hoping the bones of his broken nose went through his brain.
Using my shoulder, I busted through the door. I didn’t stop moving until I saw Cyrus hovering over Carrie as she lay on her back on a couch. His hand was around her throat while she fought against his attempt to pull up her dress. I snatched him off her and threw his little ass on the floor. He landed on his back hard enough to rattle his bones.
“You good, Carrie?” I barked the question, knowing the answer from seeing the terror in her eyes.
“Nigga!”
I turned just in time to see Cyrus scrambling to his feet. With one punch, I sent him back to his ass. This time, he would stay there. One of his men grabbed me from behind, and I flipped him, putting him on his back right next to his boss man.
I quickly turned and grabbed Carrie’s arm, scooping her up until we were chest to chest. I wrapped her legs around me and carried her like a child that fell asleep on the couch as I rushed out of the door and out of the back exit. It was a good thing that my truck was parked in the back. I shoved her into the passenger seat and slammed the door before rushing around to the driver’s side. Once I fired up my truck, I tore out of the parking lot.
