No Good For You

XV

Zachariah sat at the head of the table while the rest of us sat in the side seats.

"How's progress been?" Zachariah asked.
B started. "Well-..."
"I'm talkin' to Leila."

They all looked at me.

"So?" Zachariah smiled at me.
"Oh, um...it's good. They've gotten a lot of work done. Shipments have been on time, two of the top five clubs in the state belong to B, and we're up a good bit of money."
He nodded. "Artillery?"
"Stocked once a week."
"Increased percentage of deals?"
"18."

Zachariah looked at B.
B looked disappointed and I wondered why. I thought that was good. Was it not?

"I told you to go up at least 25, didn't I?" Zachariah asked.
"Yes, sir."

I didn't know that. I wasn't there the last meeting. I felt like I'd just fucked something up but I didn't know. I was just answering the questions he gave me.

"And you didn't reach 25?"
"No, sir..."
"Why is that?"
"I don't know..."
"You don't-..." he sent a punch into his son's jaw. "You don't know?!"
B sat with his jaw clenched as he looked at the table.
"YOU HAD ONE FUCKIN' JOB!"
"I know..."

Zachariah stood up and grabbed onto B's face in his hand, harshly squeezing his cheeks in and trying to force B to look at him.

"You're fuckin' with my money. Is this a game to you, boy!?"
"No, sir..."
"I gave you one simple task AND YOU COULDN'T FOLLOW THAT SHIT?! YOU A FUCKIN' IDIOT?! IS THAT WHAT IT IS?!" Zachariah shouted.
B didn't answer.
"Not only did you not follow it, you ain't got an excuse as to why you couldn't. You just didn't. Always showin' me I gave a man's job to a bitch." Zachariah threw his son's face and sat back down.
"I'm sorry."
"Fuck your apology, you useless prick." Zachariah waved him off. "I want that shit up by 50% by the time you come here for the next meeting and if it isn't...I will skin you alive for playin' with my fuckin' time and money."
B nodded. "Yes, sir."

Zachariah rubbed over his face with both of his hands.

Without looking, he pointed at Psycho.
"Fuck else is wrong with him?"
"He uhh...He has a personality disorder and anxiety." B answered.
Zachariah looked at B as if he was making it all up. He then turned and looked at Psycho.

"That why you do that pussy ass shit to your hair?" Zachariah asked.
"He does it that way because he likes it." Riot spoke up.

I watched Zachariah quickly pull his gun out and shoot Riot in his shoulder. Riot groaned loudly as the blood leaked out.

"GODDAMNIT!" Zachariah shouted. "YOU DON'T DO SHIT BUT PISS ME THE FUCK OFF! STOP SPEAKIN' TO ME, BITCH! SHUT THE FUCK UP!"
Riot just laid his head on the table as he held his shoulder in pain.
"NOW I'M DOWN A BULLET BECAUSE YOU WANNA FUCKIN' SPEAK!"

I stood up and walked over to Riot to help him out of his seat so we could tend to his new wound. "Come on..." I said as he stood.

"Fuck. I hate that bastard." Zachariah said as we left the room. "I wish he was dead."

I helped Riot to the bathroom and he sat on the counter. I took out the first aid kit from the cabinet.

"I'm sorry..." I stated as I began unbuttoning his shirt.
"For what?" he winced.
"You don't deserve to be treated like this."
He scoffed. "Yea, I kinda do."
"No. You don't. None of you do." I took his arm out of one sleeve then slowly pulled the shirt off the other arm. "I knew you didn't have the closest relationship, but...I never knew this was how he treated you..." I said sadly. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." he claimed.
"You and B both say that when it isn't fine." I began cleaning up the wound as he sat there. He didn't respond.

"The step after this is gonna hurt, do you want a distraction?" I asked him.
"No, I'm fine. Just move fast."
"Okay."

I took a pair of tweezers. The bullet wasn't in that deep and it hadn't shattered.
I placed my hand on his shoulder and dug the tweezers in.

He groaned quietly and closed his eyes.

I made contact with the bullet and just had to grab it.
I made an attempt but struggled.

"FUCK, LEILA!" he shouted.
"I'm sorry! I'm trying!" I tried again.
I struggled.

He got down and I removed the tweezers before he began pacing.

"Come on, I almost got it." I stated.
"You're fuckin' killin' me here." he sighed.
"I'm sorry. Just one more time."
He came back to me.
"You're okay." I rubbed his chest as I slid the tweezers back in.
He grunted.
"I know. Bear with me."
I worked to get it.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" he groaned and beat on the counter.
My hand gently held the side of his face. "You're okay."
I grabbed onto the bullet and began pulling it out.

I'd finally gotten it out all the way but it dropped whenever he decided this was a good time to put our lips together.
The kiss didn't last as long as usual.

"Why?" I wondered.
"You asked me if I wanted a distraction. That was it."
"Oh."

"I need to stitch it." I told him.
"Alright."

I picked up the bullet and threw it in the trash then washed my hands and searched for the needle and thread in the kit.

As I got it ready, I felt something.

I looked up and saw Riot staring at my body as he licked his lips.
"What?" I wondered.
"You piss me off but I always wanna fuck the shit outta you."
"I hate you." I stated as I stuck in the needle. He didn't flinch at this.
"You do?"
"Yea." I began stitching.
"You hate me when I'm fuckin' you too?" he asked.
"Yep."
He chuckled.

I looked at him.

"What?" he asked.
"You're such a slut." I stated.
"And what are you?"
"Not a slut."
He scoffed.
"What?" I questioned and tightened his stitching.
"I ain't even have to put work in to be able to fuck you."
"You're so much of a fuckin' whore you don't like doin' the work anyway! You want easy pussy because it's all you can think about."
"You don't only think about dick. It's just the only thing that'll actually make you feel like you're fuckin' worth somethin'. You can't even feel pretty unless somebody wants to fuck you senseless."
"You can't go a day without needin' your dick touched like it's some kind of drug. It's the only way your big dumb ass is gonna feel anything period!"
"You don't have a self esteem unless somebody's dick is down your fuckin' throat! You walk around dressed like a whore so you can catch eyes and pray to God that somebody, anybody, will think you're even the slightest bit fuckin' pretty or else you have a fuckin' aneurysm and your confidence is down the fuckin' drain! What are you without a dick between your thighs?!" he asked.

I slapped the needle onto the counter.
"You fuckin' do it. I hope the next time he shoots you it's in your fuckin' face, you prick."

I began to walk off but not before I was pulled back to him and stood between his legs.

"Alright. I'm sorry." he claimed.
I looked him in his eyes as his stared at my lips.
"I'm just pissed and my shoulder hurts. You know I think you're pretty." he stated.
I rolled my eyes and looked away from him.
He gently brought my face back and put our lips together.
I kissed him back.