Page 28 of Welcome to the Table

“Next time, wear clothes that fit the weather, nigga. You sweating like you been doing cardio.” I chuckled. This nigga was a joke. That was my warning to stay the fuck out of New Orleans. He wasn’t needed.

“I simply wanted to talk to you about some things outside the obvious, but I see we not on the same page,” he said.

“Nigga, we will never be on the same page. A meeting will never be needed for something that will never happen,” I told him, straightening my vest. This shit was over.

“If you say so, Calliope Black, but we will meet again.” I ignored his last words as he walked away and hopped in the back of his truck.

I watched until they backed out of the alleyway and pulled off before I moved from my stance.

I felt a presence and turned in that direction.

A lil nigga about sixteen years old came out of the darkness with three more behind them, and I nodded.

AR-15s were in each of their hands, ready for war. Rifles were bigger than their bodies.

I nodded as they got closer, then I went into my back pocket and pulled out four big knots of hunnids worth twenty bands each and handed one to each of them.

No words were spoken. What’s understood didn’t need to be explained.

They nodded at me and went back into the shadows like they were never there.

I hopped back in my ride and pulled off to my next destination.

I kept hittas everywhere I went. I put those young boys on to watch everything moving, and they did a damn good job for me, so that money was well spent.

My mind drifted to Frenchy and his impromptu visit.

I wanted to call Hellcat and let him know what had happened, but I knew he would find him and kill him.

We didn’t need that. If Frenchy was here in New Orleans, then that meant his father wasn’t too far behind.

They hadn’t left yet, or Frenchy just came here to start some shit.

Frenchy wanted to talk to me about his family having a seat at our table to move drugs in and out of the United States, but that shit wasn’t going to happen.

I wanted no parts of the family business, so I was the wrong nigga to talk to.

He should have talked to Wisdom or Melph because it was a hard no for me.

I was over the bullshit for the night, so I decided to drive back to my house for some peace.

My home was the only thing that brought me peace away from my family.

It was one of the reasons my father wasn’t invited to my home.

He didn’t do trees, anyway, and Athena only came when I called her.

Hellcat and Grove were too busy trying to get into other shit to even drive the hour it took to get to my house.

I needed to know what was going on with Klarity first, so I would get up with Jaci tomorrow after her shopping trip with Hellcat.

I wanted to talk to my sister before I left, but my mind was too fucked up to even go to her room.

I knew she was terrified because she was blindsided by all this shit, too.

I didn’t bother to turn on any type of music; I rode in silence.

I needed to think because I knew there was another fucking reason for my father leaving the fucking country.

The Feds or a snake in the camp wasn’t the only reason, but I would figure the shit out.

They better pray to whatever God they believed in that this shit wasn’t a setup, because if it was, they would see a side of me that the devil would never see coming. I keep quiet for a reason.

After an hour of driving, I pulled down the dirt road that led to my house.

I slowed because I knew that Klarity wouldn’t be there waiting for me.

I wasn’t in a rush. I used to look forward to her scent in my house or her attitude, waiting to greet me at the door.

I knew that wasn’t the case, so I took my time.

I heard my phone vibrating in the cup holder and held it to my face to see the screen.

It was Hellcat calling. I didn’t want to answer because I knew he was about to say some shit I wouldn’t like.

On the flip side of that, I knew the nigga wouldn’t stop calling, so I was fucked either way. I slid the bar across the screen.

“What, nigga? And make it snappy, nappy,” I told him before I could get the phone to my ear, but I knew he heard me. I heard nothing but loud ass music in the background, so I knew this nigga was in one of our clubs.

“Niiggaaaaa, you need to come out. They got some bad bitches in the house tonight,” he yelled into the phone, causing me to pull mine from my ear.

“Nigga, you need to go home instead of clubbing,” I told him.

“Nah, nigga, tell yoself that and bring yo’ ass to Spades. I’m just chilling, nothing like last time.”

I laughed because that nigga could be on some set up shit.

“For real. Bring yo’ ass or Imma come get you,” he said and disconnected the call.

I forgot this nigga had my location. I would be sure to take his shit and turn it off.

He didn’t need to know my every fucking move.

I thought about it for a second and decided to join my brother because one of us needed a level head.

I threw my Spider in reverse, hit the gas pedal, and backed all the way down the dirt road until I got to the highway.

I headed to Spades to watch this nigga because he couldn’t watch himself.

I pulled up to the club, and it was more packed than usual, but I didn’t think anything of it.

The valet rushed to open the door for me to get out.

They knew what it was when I stepped out.

The line was long as fuck, but I wouldn’t be the one standing in it.

I handed the nigga my keys and three hundred dollars.

Bitches were screaming my name like I was a celebrity, and I hated that shit.

Pulling on my jacket and shit. I hated when people touched me.

I walked past them, ignoring the noises that surrounded me.

I wanted to turn around and go to my car, but I knew Hellcat was waiting for me.

I made it to the door, and the music vibrated through my body.

The cold, fresh air hit my face, giving me a chill that I embraced.

The bass made my ears ring, but I ignored it as I maneuvered through the club in search of my brother.

I looked above the crowd and noticed Hellcat standing on the sofa in the VIP section with a bottle in his hand and Hollygrove trying to pull the nigga down.

I laughed on the inside because that nigga was having the time of his life while my mind was in shambles.

I went to the velvet rope that blocked off the stairs leading to the section. The security guard looked at me, and no words needed to be spoken. He unhooked it and let me through. I took the stairs two at a time until I made it to them.

“My big fucking brother in this bitch. Y’all better show him some love!” Hellcat yelled at the strippers in our section, and I knew it was about to be some shit.

He knew how I felt about those sweaty, hot, sticky ass bodies touching all over me.

One of the women pulled a chair in the middle of the floor while the other pushed me slightly to sit.

I looked at Hollygrove as he laughed, but I didn’t find shit funny.

There were three of them, and I knew if I threw money and told them to get the fuck on, they wouldn’t listen, so I just let them do their thing, feeling cringy on the inside.

One was behind me, blowing her hot ass breath on the side of my face, while the other was in front of me, on her knees, rubbing my thighs.

The third girl straddled me, and my head fell back.

They probably thought they were making my dick hard, but I was dying on the inside.

I reached inside my jacket pocket and pulled out four knots of money.

Their eyes lit up like fucking Christmas.

I knew that’s what they wanted, and I was about to throw that shit so they could get the fuck off me.

When the redbone straddled my lap, that was all I could take. I lifted her by the waist and threw her to the floor. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the look of death that I gave her zipped her fucking lips. I untwisted the knots and threw them all over her.

“You didn’t have to do my girl like that,” one of the dancers yelled above the music.

I was about to stand, but Hollygrove jumped in quick. He grabbed the girl’s shoulder.

“Nah, bitch, this ain’t it. Do you know who the fuck you talking to? Beat yo’ fucking feet. Pick y’all money up and get the fuck out of this section before you don’t leave out this bitch alive.”

The other dancers heard and hurried to get the money from the floor and leave the section. I laughed.

“Nigga, you just can’t have a good time, huh?” He shook his head, laughing.

“You know how I feel when bitches be touching all over my fucking body, all sweaty and shit. They didn’t have to do all that. Just dance and keep it moving. But if I had snapped the bitch’s neck for straddling my lap, I would have been the fucking bad guy.

“My bad. I forgot how yo’ ass can get when you're sober. Calm down, nigga. We just want to have fun. You all tense and shit,” Hollygrove told me, but my face didn’t change.

He walked away and got me a cup, poured me some drink, and handed me a blunt. I smelled the rim of the cup, and he laughed.

“Nigga, it ain’t me who put that shit in your drink last time. That was yo’ brother with the bullshit.” He walked away from me.

Everything around me got quiet. I toked my blunt and sipped my drink, being careful to watch my surroundings.

With the shit Frenchy had just pulled, I didn’t know where that nigga was or even if he left the fucking state.

I needed my head on a swivel because I knew this nigga had ulterior motives.

My eyes swept the room while everyone had fun dancing and drinking around me. I couldn’t afford a slip up.