Once again, Harrison inserted himself into a conversation that didn’t revolve around him. “Aye, bitch, get the fuck in the house. Smiling in this nigga’s face.” I held shorty around the waist and moved her to the left. “Excuse me, beloved.” “You doing a lot of talking for a pussy,” Kincaid spit at his feet. “Oh shit, you couldn’t handle me yourself, so you went and got your fath—” In one swift movement, I grabbed the back of Harrison’s head and slammed his head on the grill, next to the burgers. He sizzled like the food that was on the grill. “What was that, Harry? Why the fuck you out here
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