The Pretty B*tch Hitta: The Untold Story of a Boss B*tch

Eighteen

That Afternoon

Deciding that the apartment wasn't safe anymore, Smoove had Brie pack up their clothes and toss them into her car. He grabbed a stack of cash hidden in Brie's closet, and his Draco. He tried to remain calm for Brie, but lowkey, his palms were sweaty and his heart raced.

He never thought Sal would sink so low. Lux was probably somewhere scared and alone. And he couldn't help but feel guilty. He came into their lives and it had been fucked up ever since.

He heard the front door close and looked out the bedroom door. Brie had came back and made her way to the living room couch. She sat, holding her head in her hands and rocked back and forth.

"Do you think they'll still hurt her even if we give them the money?"

"Yes," he said truthfully. "Which is why we aint givin' it to him."

Brie looked up bewildered. "What?! Smoove he has MY SISTER. He obviously wants the money what do you mean we're not gonna give to him?"

"Brie this money is my father's legacy!"

"And that is my sister !! You and your brother are your father's legacy not some dumbass money."

"There's people getting killed over this dumbass money!"

Brie stood off the couch and lept in Smoove's face. "My fucking point exactly."

He stood frozen, processing what she said and trying to find something, anything, wrong. But he couldn't. Brie snatched up her small yellow purse and headed back to the door. "I'll be in the car waiting."

****

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Brie asked. She looked around nervously, wiping her hands against her ripped jeans. It was a humid day and her pink tank top stuck to her body like a bug on fly paper.

"1718 Toucan Way," he confirmed. They were parked on a desolate South Beach street in front of an old nightclub. There were a few small businesses lined up like little colorful boxes on both sides of the street. An old woman sat in a rocking chair outside of a small thrift shop, destroying a mango with her gumless mouth.

Brie grabbed a gun and accompanying silencer from the glove box. Smoove clutched on the Ruger he kept under the driver's seat. He turned to Brie, staring at her face until she looked away embarrassed, before kissing her glossy lips.

"Don't be scared. You one of the bravest people I know. You aint no little girl anymore, Brie. You a boss bitch."

Brie thought if she could blush, now would be when she would. "When is T meeting us?"

"He pulling up now. He gon stay out here wit one if his niggas and they gon come around the back away and kill that nigga."

"I doubt he's alone Smoove. It's what, 4 of against however many people he got."

Smoove did a double take of the street. He noticed the old woman staring intently at their car, still rocking in her chair.

"Somethin' tells me he chose this place cause his protection is this whole block. Bet money that little old lady got dat stick on her under that quilt."

Brie felt her heart leap. Please God, please protect my sister.

Brie took a deep breath, took the gun's safety off and tucked it behind her jeans' waistband. It was now or never.