Page 131 of Certified To Handle You 2

“I’m just sayin’.”

“Get in the other car and follow me.”

Blaq shook his head, but he did what I told him ‘cause that was my nigga. He ain’t always agree with the shit I did, but when we was in motion, he wasn’t gon’ leave me standin’ here alone.

I got behind the wheel of this nigga’s car and drove toward Sha’Nelle’s mama’s house with Blaq followin’ behind me. Every few minutes, I could hear movement comin’ from the trunk, but I ignored it and kept drivin’.

I imagined Sha’Nelle wakin’ up, walkin’ outside and seein’ the man she called better sittin’ helpless in his own shit.

She wanted a man who gave her peace. I wanted her to understand peace only existed when somebody more dangerous allowed it.

When I reached her mama’s house, I pulled into the driveway and parked his car beside hers. I sat here for a second lookin’ toward the house, and part of me wondered if she was up. I wondered if Couture had told her he was comin’ over or if she was gon’ wake up confused when she saw his shit outside.

Either way, she would get the message.

I got out, shut the door and moved down the street before somebody inside could look through a window. Blaq pulled up beside me, and I climbed into the passenger seat while he took off toward where the driver was waitin’.

Neither one of us spoke until we switched cars, leavin’ the one we bought stranded, and the driver started toward the airstrip.

Blaqson pulled his mask off and looked over at me from the other side of the back seat. “What you gon’ tell Pressure when he ask how the trip went?”

“I’m gon’ tell him Greystone still dirty as fuck,” I answered while pullin’ mine off.

Blaq laughed once and shook his head. “You really dropped that nigga off at her mama house in his own trunk.”

“Since he the better nigga, she should be happy to see him.”

By the time we reached the jet, the pilot was ready and the stairs was already down. Me and Blaq boarded without wastin’ time, and the door closed behind us while the engines started.

I sat back in the seat and finally reached for my phone.

Sha’Nelle’s name was still near the top of my messages. I opened the thread and stared at the last shit between us before typin’ what I came all the way to Greystone to say.

Since he the better nigga, go get his ass.

I sent it, locked my phone and rested my head against the seat while the jet started movin’.

By the time Sha’Nelle figured out what I meant, I was already on my way back to Trill-Land like my ass had never left.

Greystone City

I woke up to my mama callin’ my name like she was crazy.

At first, I thought I was dreamin’ ‘cause her voice kept movin’ in and out while I tried to pull myself from sleep. Then she pushed my room door open and called my name again with more force behind it.

“Sha’Nelle, wake up!” my mama said while standin’ near the doorway. “Why Couture car parked in my damn driveway?”

I blinked a few times until the room came into focus, then pushed myself up against the headboard. “What?”

“His car,” my mama repeated while pointin’ toward the window. “It’s sittin’ right next to yours. Did he come over here last night?”

I frowned and looked toward the window like I would be able to see the driveway through the closed blinds. Couture ain’t tell me he was comin’ over, and he damn sure ain’t have no reason to pull up without callin’ first.

“I’on know, mama,” I answered while reachin’ for my phone. “Maybe he came to surprise me with breakfast or somethin’.”

My mama folded her arms and looked at me like that answer ain’t make no sense to her either. “Then where he at? I been up for twenty minutes, and I ain’t seen him knock on this door.”

I unlocked my phone and checked the screen. There wasn’t no missed calls from Couture and no messages sayin’ he was outside. His name wasn’t nowhere in my notifications. But Renza’s was.