Playboi's Bunny

26. Zayne

January 8th, 2022

Sahara got me so fuckin' mad.

One day, she's tellin' me how me and her gon' go and handle her sister together and the next, she talmbout doin' shit on her own, knowin' I want her sisters head on a stick.

I ain't got time for it and I need a fuckin' drink and a fat ass blunt too.

"Rough day, too?" An American accent meets me at the bar a few seconds after I slip into an empty seat, catchin' me off guard.

Since coming to Panama, I've yet to have a conversation with another American who ain't Playboi or Sahara. I glance at the woman sitting next to me and offer a quick head nod.

I can tell the woman is a dyke, probably old enough to be my mama so off rip, I ain't interested. But her eyes tear into me like I'm just her type and even though I ain't the least bit interested, I bat my thick eyelashes at her and nod towards the beer in her hand.

"Can I buy you a beer?"

"Please." I smile politely and glance at the clock on the wall.

I know I was wrong for leaving out the house when Sahara and Playboi were fuckin' in the shower but after me and her got into it about her leaving next week, without me, I needed to clear my head 'cause it don't make no sense for her to have this type of control over me and my emotions so fuckin' fast.

"Definitely would've remembered seeing you around here before." Her words make me roll my eyes internally, I done heard that shit before so many times.

"Ah, I'm just visitin' on my honeymoon. I ain't gon' be around too long."

"That's too bad." She fake pouts and smiles sweetly at me.

"If you value yo life, you'd leave this one at the bar." Sahara's usual soft voice is laced with so much animosity, I don't have to turn around to know she's pissed the fuck off.

But I do anyway, with a smirk on my face and goosebumps coverin' my arms. If looks could kill, I would've gotten this broad fucked up, with the glare Sahara's wearin', probably over me sittin' with another bitch.

"You don't have to leave, love." I tell the random woman who's name ion even know, while still smiling at Sahara's jealous ass. She got a straight face as she sits a pistol on top of the bar like we ain't surrounded be people.

The fuck?!

"Safety ain't on, 'love'. Go head and bounce, bitch."

Without givin' me a second look, the woman stands, grabs hers and my beer and then walks off fast as hell.

Shit, I don't blame her. This bitch is crazy.

"Whatchu want, Sahara? You followin' me?"

"And is. What the fuck you at a bar for, by yo self? You clearly want me to shoot you, tryin' me like you're dumb."

"What it look like? I'm drinkin'. Shouldn't you be on yo way back to the states since you think you can do what the fuck you wanna do? Put your goddamn gun away, fuckin' lunatic."

This bitch got my heart skippin' beats and my breath caught in my throat, she's trippin so hard.

"Let's go somewhere and talk. I ain't doin this here." Sahara grabs my wrist and pulls me through the small crowd on the dance floor and don't ease up on her grip til we get outside under the stars.

I'm ready to smack the shit outta this broad, foreal.

"Get off me, before you get me callin' you out yo name." I snatch my arm away and push her a step back so it's some distance between us.