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“Why wouldn’t a fifteen/sixteen-year-old boy get freaked out over seeing a woman panting and squirming in ropes?” “Because I’m nasty, Nalib.”
Why not? There was nothing after Sadik. He was it for me. With his resources, determined attachment to me, and family’s means to hunt me down if I tried taking his child from him, he was the end game.
I appreciate it, but Jules, I’m not the type of man to spill my fuckin’ guts to anyone. No one can manage my shit better than me.” “That’s what Tony Soprano thought at first, too.”
He was my latest addiction—him and his father’s sexual organ. That small fact annoyed me.
I’m a novice at the act.” I shook my head, laying back on the pillows. “Hate to break it to you, but your pussy’s a long way from Kansas, Dorothy.”
“I don’t understand you people.” A guttural chuckle pushed from his nostrils. “Watch out now. You sounding like them white folk.”
My baby sucked his fat fist as though it was a well-seasoned chicken bone.
The woman your fuckin’ rigger targeted to deliver Double E Bags his dinner was my wife. You’ve put my wife in harm’s way and insulted my only sister.” I bounced on the balls of my feet, changing my stance. “You done fucked with the wrong Ellis, Popov. I’m sorry no one told you.”
“Yo! I ‘on’t want no trouble Mook! I’m workin’, man!” “Nah, hoe!” She threw her fists in the air on approach. “You wanna fuck my man and tell me to go kill myself? I told you, you was on suicide watch, bitch!”
“Don’t play with me.” I shook my head, disappointed. “I may be a Black man, but ain’t no nigga shit going on here.
