Page 16 of Ghetto Heartstrings

They both entered the kitchen, where Bugg was standing over the stove in her sports bra and tights cooking dinner for them. She was attractive as hell, and she cooked good as hell too.

“No problem,” she said, walking away to finish doing what she was doing. “I know it gotta be hard as shit out here without a good home-cooked meal.”

“Whatever,” she mumbled.

Stepping outside, they went to the beach house to check on Boom, who was in there with Maine running some numbers. They entered the doors to the smoke-filled room and was greeted by some other island ass nigga sitting there, passing the joint back and forth.

“Who dis?” Perfect asked, grabbing the joint from Boom.

“This Mike, he runs shit on this side. Rasta sent him this way to make sure we make some kind of money while we out here.”

“Doing what?” C2 frowned.

“Working,” Boom chuckled. “Some shit we ain’t never did before. He need some landscapers for his mansion.”

Perfect and C2 both fell out laughing.

“Fuck outta here kid, we don’t work for nobody. What kind of slave ass shit is that?” Perfect asked.

Maine cleared his throat, displeased with the way his nephews were acting.

“Don’t embarrass me with that fucking ignorance.

That’s the problem with you lil young niggas.

Ya daddy trying to show you something different to keep you from going back to the streets; ya’ll don’t know how it feels to put in some hard labor work, but get used to it cause I promise you, you won’t make it in the streets.

It’s only two kind of niggas that make it in the game and a very few percentage that make it to be able to tell the story on the outside of those fucking jail walls, so tighten ya’ll asses up. ”

Mike was an olive-colored man, well dressed in a crème-colored suit. His hair was shaved down to the scalp and his thin mustache sat right above his tiny lips. He didn’t speak, nor seem amused by anything.

Boom spoke up. “Mike doesn’t talk; he don’t talk to niggas he don’t know, and if he does, that means he fucks with you a lil bit. Guess he ain’t fuckin’ with ya’ll niggas.”

Without saying another word, he got up and passed Maine his card.

Maine took it and sat it on the table. “I’ll give you a call soon.”

With that, Mike excused himself.

The brothers took a seat and put the joint in rotation again.

“Unc, why you set us up like that?” Perfect asked.

Maine shook his head. “You niggas is hardheaded. I wouldn’t be surprised if ya’ll ain’t called them damn girls, after I told ya’ll not to.”

“We ain’t did shit up in this boring muthafucka. Nigga ain’t had no phone sex, no sex period, ain’t heard a sweet voice, no nothing.” C2 frowned.

“I don’t know when ya’ll youngins gon’ learn.” Maine shook his head.

Boom pulled out his phone, thanking the almighty high that they had some damn Wi-Fi because as of now, that was the only thing that kept them connected to their world as he surfed the internet. “C2, ya girl done cooking in there?” he asked.

“She should be, come on.”

They all stood up, well, everyone besides Maine, since they managed to aggravate his nerves in that short period of time.

He had some doubts himself about Rasta requesting that they suddenly leave, but his loyalty kept him from speaking on his thoughts, although the shit had been tugging at him since they’d gotten there.

Boom grabbed his stomach when they made it inside. “This shit smells so good.” His mouth watered.

“Don’t touch the pots until you wash those hands Boom,” Bugg warned. She was speaking to him but looking at Perfect, as he tried to mind his business.

She fixed their plates and sat each plate at the counter before walking off in the back to take a shower, since she wasn’t hungry and it was late.

After dinner, they decided to get the kitchen back together, since Bugg was nice enough to cook.

They sat in the living room drinking and talking shit after that.

“You got an Instagram account?” Perfect asked Bugg, “Don’t lie either, all ya’ll females be on that social media shit.”

She couldn’t contain her smile as it spread across her face, easing her phone off the table she went to her account, which showed all her pictures. “Here.”

She immediately felt some type of way when he didn’t pay her page any attention and went to the search engine to type in Brook’Lynn’s IG account instead.

When her page opened, he licked his lips when he saw the last picture that she’d posted a little over a month ago.

He was happy to see her fine ass, but he wasn’t feeling her being up in CoCo’s.

That shit was dangerous; somebody was always losing they life up at that bitch and he would go crazy if something happened to his Brook.

“Let me see that shit.” C2 snatched it away, so he could search Kema’s account. He typed it in the search engine and Kema_baby popped up. His face immediately wore a frown. “The fuck is these niggas she’s posting all these pics with?”

Boom glanced over. “Let me see,” he laughed. “Man, that girl don’t give no fucks; you know she like to party and shit. She ain’t fucking them niggas; she ain’t crazy.”

“I’m telling you, when I get back, if that pussy ain’t in tack, her ass is out the door.” C2 passed Boom the phone.

He passed it back to Bugg, since he didn’t plan on searching Yaya’s IG. A huge part of him seriously didn’t want to know shit.

“Thank you,” Bugg hissed, glad that she had her phone back.

She knew she was supposed to be giving up some info on the girls, but she hadn’t made enough money yet to be out there telling and shit.

She wanted to make a few more runs with them before she actually told what was up, and she damn sure wasn’t trying to tell Perfect shit about Brook’Lynn cause, secretly, she had to have that nigga.

In the middle of the night, Perfect found himself up and in the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge.

He was ready to get the fuck back home; he was about to say fuck Rasta, the punk ass Feds, and everything else.

As soon as he popped the top off, he was distracted by a noise coming from the living room.

He took one hand and eased one of the kitchen drawers open, since they kept spare guns in there.

He took the .45 out and sat the bottle down before making his way outta there with the gun pointed.

They didn’t come way to the Virgin Islands to have no island ass niggas pull up on them.

As soon as he stepped foot in the living room, he focused on Bugg sitting there scrolling her phone. “What you doin’ in here up so late?” he asked her.

She looked up at the barrel of the gun. “Can you stop pointing that thing at me now?” She frowned.

He lowered his hand and leaned up against the wall, wearing only his basketball shorts and bare ripped chest. “My bad… but what’s good ma? Why you in here by yourself?”

She patted the seat next to her. “I was hoping you came; come sit with me for a lil bit. I don’t know what C2 told you, but I don’t bite.”

Perfect wasn’t trying to be overfriendly with this girl, but he guessed it didn’t hurt to be able to talk to somebody else besides a bunch of fucking dudes. “What’s on ya brain?”

“How come I’ve never met you?”

He shrugged and relaxed a little bit. “You gotta ask C2 about that… you know how to roll up?” he asked her.

“Yeah,” she replied.

He pointed to the small box on the table. “It’s all there.”

Doing as she was told; she grabbed the wrap and weed and went to work. “You like it out here?”

“I don’t really know about all that shit. I ain’t been nowhere yet but, to be honest with you, a nigga ain’t happy nowhere his girl ain’t at.”

Bugg didn’t like that shit at all, but she kept her cool. Brook’Lynn was a lucky bitch, in her eyes; this nigga was fine and faithful. “I think that shit is dope,” she said, licking the wrap.

Perfect sat back while stretching one arm out on the back of the couch, getting a little more comfortable. “So, what’s up Bugg? Tell me about you; why they call you Bugg anyway?” he asked, not wanting to talk about him and his situation.

“Well, my real name is Brandy, but everyone calls me Bugg because when I was little, I was small like one. I was everybody’s favorite little ladybug.” She smiled, grabbing the lighter.

It was crazy to Perfect, sitting there next to this fine ass girl and wishing that she was his girl who was back home waiting for him, but in the meantime, the company was nice.

Perfect chuckled. “Cute lil story… you got siblings? Parents?”

Bugg lit up the joint. “Nah, no siblings and my mama... I don’t know where she’s at.”

“What you mean?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“And yo daddy?” he asked.

She had a spaced-off look in her eyes. “Nigga don’t give a fuck about me.”

“You want me to stop asking you questions?” he asked, sensing that she may have been a little uncomfortable.

She put her soft glossed lips around the perfectly rolled joint and took a pull before passing it to him. “Why they call you Perfect?” she asked, changing the subject.

He took a pull as well before answering. “Shit, cause that’s my name,” he chuckled. “G-shit, that’s not a nickname. My mama thought I was perfect when I was born; that’s what she named me.”

“She knew what she was doing,” Bugg complimented with lazy eyes.

“Is that right?” Perfect replied, peeping where she was going with this.

“So, my little lady just been chillin’ huh?

” He quickly shifted the conversation in another direction, trying to ignore the doggish devil that came up out of niggas…

the one that kept telling him to throw that bitch on the table and fuck the shit out of her.

Bugg nodded her head, instead of actually responding. She wished he would stop bringing that bitch up because the more he did, the more she hated her ass.

They talked for at least another hour and smoked two joints, until they were high as hell and floating.

Neither one of them realized that they’d fallen asleep, until Perfect woke up two hours later with Bugg sleeping with her head rested on his shoulder.

Not wanting to disturb her, he got up while trying not to wake her and went to grab a throw-blanket, putting it over her before walking to his room to get into his own bed.

Bugg was supposed to be with them for the next week or two, but even though…

he wished that he could use her phone to call back home.

But, let Rasta tell it, Brook’Lynn and them phones could possibly be tapped, and he didn’t want to chance that.

Talking to Bugg was refreshing and all, but he knew she had other motives, and he wasn’t about to get sucked up into that shit.

If he was going to fuck up on his girl, it wasn’t about to be with a bitch she knew.