Ride Or Die Chick

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"I'll stomp a bitch into her casket over you, Benjamin." —Angel

Every second felt like a minute, every minute felt like an hour and every hour felt like a day, as I paced up and down inside my bedroom. It was six o clock, but my mind was far from the thought of sleep. It hadn't been since the twelve hours ago I last saw Money. My nerves were rattled to the core.

All sorts of horrific thoughts went through my head. The first thing I thought about was someone from our past catching up to us. Retaliating on him for a stickup we did. That was the one thing we would always have to worry about. Money and I may have been robbers, but we were no killers. Our victims got to live. That was one line we promised we would never cross. It was one thing to steal money, but a whole other to steal a life.

Besides the fact Money was missing, I'd gotten an anonymous text message with the words:

I fucked him good tonight, see how much I look out for you? Now you don't have to worry about that chore for now. So take care of my man until he comes back home where he always is.

The text didn't really bother me. The sender did have a name, Tasha, but it was from an unknown number. Which meant this was clearly sent to the wrong person. I've never heard the name associated with Money a day in my life. I didn't even suspect for a second it had anything to do with him. We were faithful to each other and there were no ifs, ands or buts to it. The only reason I hadn't deleted it, were for laughs once Money came through the door.

That was my main concern right now, anyway. Money's disappearance. I glance at the clock again to see only a minute has gone by. I know I shouldn't be reading the time, because it'll only keep stressing me out. But I can't help myself. I could never fathom the type of women that automatically flipped once they realized they went to sleep and woke up, seeing their man never stepped foot through the door.

I'd never been like that, I liked to give the benefit of the doubt. Why wasn't there ever leniency on the man? Already premeditated bias that he was doing something wrong was wrong. Who was to say he wasn't out bleeding to death somewhere from getting in a terrible accident, while you were at home already packing his shit because you assumed he was cheating? I always felt like if those thoughts came so quickly, you never had trust in him anyway.

For Money not to contact me since he left for the barbershop last night, I knew something was wrong. He did tell me not to wait up because he would probably be back late; but he said a little late, not until the next day.

Then, like straight out of a tv show. I finally heard it—it was a faint noise, but I knew what it was. It was the sound of the front door opening and closing. I stopped pacing in relief and put a hand on my wild heartbeat. I could hear moving around out front in the living room, but moments later footsteps came closer and closer to the back until the bedroom door was gently pushed open.

I had on a thin creme silk robe that was open, exposing my spaghetti strap nightwear and still, I felt so hot.

Money stepped in and I could see the look of surprise on his face. For a moment it was silent between us. But he spoke a second later. "Why you not sleepin', Bratz?" He asked, taking off his jacket as he walked over to the closet and hung it up.

It takes another moment for words to be said back, because I can't believe he's standing here, when he just wasn't. "How could I? I was worried about you." I say watching him walk all over the room. He hadn't quiet faced me yet. He was just putting his clothing items in the places they belonged. "You didn't answer any of my calls. You said you were only going to the barbershop, that was twelve hours ago. I thought something happened."