Chapter Twenty-seven
Sable
Momentarily, there was an eerie silence inside the cabin. No one could believe what I was attempting to do to this shifty female. Nonetheless, at this point in the game, I could care less about what these people thought about me and my actions. Not only had my money seemingly vanished, but also now I find out that this low-down, conniving, so-called friend of mine had been fucking Mike Mike on the regular for months. Naw, I didn’t give two hot shits that Roxy was already fucked up and half dead. She still was going to suffer even more when the murky water of the ocean filled her lungs. Grabbing both of Roxy’s legs by the ankles, I sneered, “Yeah, whore, since you like having these bitches up in the air, wide open for someone else’s man, keep that same energy now.” Once more, I demanded someone open the fucking door before they’d be next on my bitter revenge agenda.
Not knowing what else to do but comply, Jazz did as I had ordered. My back was turned, yanking on Roxy when I heard my girl yell out. “Oh shit, what you doing here?”
Carla looked around, dumbfounded, not knowing what was up. In turn, I did the same thing—and was left with a dry throat and speechless. My broken heart raced. I felt dizzy, weak all of a sudden. I dropped Roxy’s ankles, taking a few steps backward. My nightmare was now a reality.
“My sweet, sweet, unpredictable Sable. I’ve been missing you the last few days.”
“What?” I barely mustered up the courage to speak.
“Yeah, now, bitch, where’s my motherfucking money? Run my fucking shit right damn now.” Mike Mike was standing less than ten feet from me with all intent on stretching me out across the floor next to a visibly injured Roxy. He wasn’t the least bit concerned about his side piece fuck buddy’s condition. She was expendable when it came to his funds. Hell, we all were, and shit was about to get real.
“But—” I tried to say something and was once more cut off.
“Naw, no buts, ya sneaky trick slut. Y’all foul-mouthed carpet munchers got all of ten seconds to run me my bread or each of y’all cunts gonna feel something hot. Now, fuck around and think I’m bullshitting. Sable, you already know how I get down. So a nigga ain’t taking no damn shorts either.”
“Whoa, hold up. Who in the hell are you? This my damn boat,” Carla bossed up, acting as if she were a man and could go toe-to-toe with one. “And I suggest you watch your mouth with all of them derogatory statements.”
“Watch my mouth?” Mike Mike hawked on the carpeted floor, giving her a “fuck-you-bitch” expression. “Look, you wanna be a man, freak? Your best bet is to fall all the way back and stay out of my business before you have problems that once-a-month bleeding pussy ain’t equipped to handle—ya feel me? So stay in your lane before I kick ya period on.”
Carla was pissed he was being so disrespectful with the name-calling and threats on the boat she owned. Her first reaction was to run up, but she knew better than to try Mike Mike. She might have dressed like a man, strapped on, and fucked like a man—but toe-to-toe, balls-to-balls, the female I’d just spent the night with was no damn man. Carla knew she had no-win. Mike Mike looked and talked like he hadn’t come for any games or foolishness, and since he was at least fifty racks lighter in the pocket, I couldn’t say that I blamed him.
Searching the room for an escape route other than straight past my living nightmare, Jazz held on to my arm, trembling in fear. Praying the sirens would get closer, hopefully, I could get spared from the pain Mike Mike was hell-bent on putting down on me if I didn’t produce the missing cash. My heart was working overtime. Mustering up the courage to speak while stalling for time, I stared him dead in his eyes. “So, you been fucking Roxy, huh? My own best friend! Is that how we doing it now?”
Mike Mike’s expression changed. It was like the devil himself entered the cabin and had taken over his body and soul. He hated being caught up in his own shit. Like any other man, he tried flipping the script. “Look, Sable, I don’t give two fucks about what you talking about right about now—just run my bread—and quick.” He took three steps closer as I took four steps backward, almost tripping over Roxy’s body. “If I have to beat my money outta you, then so be it. Now, this the last time I’m asking your stanking ass. Run me my goddamn money—all of it.”
“Wait! Wait!” Jazz selfishly intervened, hoping to just make it safely off the boat and to her cousin. “Mike Mike, the money is gone. Someone stole it. It’s gone. We came back in here, and it was missing, and Roxy was like this—fucked up.”
“Say what?” Mike Mike shouted as he rushed across the room, knocking me to the ground. He was furious. That was the last thing he wanted to hear.
I know for a fact he’d hustled hard to stack that money after we’d taken a few serious hits with his pill addiction. Like I was pissed for various reasons, now, he was too. Our buried emotional baggage throughout the years was now out on the surface. The things we were saying as we fought were raw, and they were real. As we struggled on top of Roxy’s mangled body, at one point, Carla tried to yank him off me, prying his hands from around my throat.
On the verge of passing out, I caught a glimpse of Jazz running out the door. I gasped for air as my eyes rolled to the back of my head. The last thing I heard before being out cold was Jazz’s voice telling someone that there was a fight in Room 217 and to hurry and get there.