After we got through fuckin’, Devin got up and started gettin’ dressed. I picked up the money off the floor, and put it back in the bag. "I know there’s no need for me to count this."
"It’s all there," he said and turned to leave.
"Before you go, I want you to know I ain’t mad at you, Devin. I hate it that you mad at me. But come back and get this pussy when you calm down."
"Good-bye, Qianna." Devin turned around and walked out of the apartment. I took the money out of the bag and counted it. He was as good as his word. The money was all there.
I picked up the phone and told Cutie it was cool for her to come back. She was mad cool about the whole thing. I didn’t want her having any contact with Devin. I haven’t even mentioned his name to her. Cutie doesn’t know that it was his house we robbed, or that while she was gatherin’ up the goodies, I was upstairs killin’ wifey. All she knew was that we robbed a house and got paid. The less a bitch know, the better.
When Cutie got back to the apartment, my cell started ringing. It was Avonte, and she was cryin’ so much that I really couldn’t make out a word she was sayin’. Cutie just looked at me and shook her head. "You got too much drama in your life for me."
I put my finger over my lips. "Calm down, Avonte, and tell me what’s wrong."
"Why don’t you tell her to meet you over here, too," Cutie suggested, and sucked her teeth.
"You don’t mind?"
"No, I got a date anyway," she said, and went in the bedroom.
"Avonte, listen to me. I’m at a friend’s apartment. Why don’t you come here, and we can talk about whatever it is that got you like this."
Avonte agreed, and I told her where Cutie lived.
I didn’t see Cutie anymore until I heard the doorbell ring. I started to get up to answer, but Cutie came out of the bedroom, dressed in a short black dress that was huggin’ that sexy-ass body, and said, "I’ll get it."
I got a little jealous ’bout her g
oin’ on a date, but shit, Devin was here earlier, and Avonte was at the door, so what the fuck could I say.
Cutie opened the door, and Avonte walked in. "Avonte, this is my friend Cutie."
"It’s good to finally meet you, Cutie. Qianna talks about you all the time," Avonte said, while she drooled over Cutie.
"She talks about you a lot too. And Avonte . . ."
"Yes."
"You can call me Angel. Only this bitch here gets to call me Cutie. You ladies have a good night. Don’t bother to wait up," Cutie said, and closed the door behind her.
"What was that about?" Avonte said, as she came to sit next to me on the couch.
"Just what she said. Her name is Angel. I’m the only bitch that get to call her Cutie."
"Oh."
There was something about the way she said "Oh" that I didn’t like.
It was more like, "Oh, we’ll see about that." I knew I had to watch this bitch now.
"Tell me what you was so upset about. I could hardly understand what you was sayin’ on the phone."
"I’m sorry about that. I had a chance to calm down on the cab ride over here. I’m better now."
"Well, what was wrong?"
Avonte told me some shit about her husband havin’ somebody spyin’ on her and shit. That he knew about her fuckin’ with me and Devin, and because she signed some shit she didn’t read; I don’t know. Bottom line, he was cutin’ her out of the money.
"That’s fucked up. What you gonna do now?"