Applying Pressure

by Shvonne Latrice

“You know you gon’ be my fucking wife, right?”

“Damn. That’s right, baby. Take this dick. You taking all of that shit. Fuck.” He hammered me. I couldn’t say a word, only snivel. “What’s my name?” he inquired.

I’d noticed over the past months that all kinds of eerie shit had been happening to me. First the person following me home, sending me letters, then Johnathan disappearing, and Xion getting that strange call. When did my life become a damn thriller film?

“Hold up, where you going without my kiss?” Ocean buckled me in his lap, using his forearms. “Nigga, I’m just going to get a pencil.” I giggled. “I don’t give a damn what you about to do. Always give yo’ nigga a kiss before you leave me.” He pecked me deeply and sensually.

I was learning slowly but surely that my nigga was a little off. I kind of liked it though.

A little off sis you have no idea

thought of him behind bars. As demented and unhinged as his actions had been, I couldn’t deny the slight flattery I felt. He’d gone to great lengths to secure a relationship with me, and I didn’t know if it was romantic or obsessive.