Deception & Betrayal

“Who the *fuck* is this nigga?” the man demanded, glaring at Trina.

Trina jumped in front of him, her hands rubbing his chest, her voice desperate. “He’s a friend—I mean, a lick! That’s how I been gettin’ money, baby! I saved up a lot for us!”

Chris’s heart sank, his mind reeling. *A lick?* He mustered the courage to speak, his voice shaking with anger. “Section 8? You told me you couldn’t pay your rent! I gave you $1,850 for this fuckin’ shithole!”

The man’s eyes narrowed, and he shoved Trina aside, lunging at Chris. His massive hand clamped around Chris’s throat, squeezing tight, pinning him to the bed. “Don’t you *ever* raise your voice at my bitch, and don’t you *ever* disrespect my fuckin’ house!” the man roared, his face inches from Chris’s, spit flying. “I’ve killed lil’ pussy boys like you for actin’ tough! In the pen, I make niggas like you get down and fix it!”

Trina grabbed the man’s arm, pleading. “Please, baby, don’t make me lose my Section 8 voucher! Neither of y’all supposed to be here! You just did eight years—do you really wanna go back to prison?”

The man chuckled darkly, his grip loosening slightly on Chris’s throat. “Nah, I ain’t gon’ make you lose your voucher.” But then his hand moved to his waist, pulling a 9mm semi-automatic pistol from his sagging jeans. He pressed the cold barrel against Chris’s forehead, the metal biting into his skin. Chris’s heart raced, his life flashing before his eyes. He remembered the text from his homeboy: *“Be careful with her.”* He felt like a fucking idiot for ignoring it, for ditching his boys for Trina, and now he was staring down a gun, unsure if he’d make it out alive.

With the pistol pressed to Chris’s head, the man turned to Trina, his voice low and menacing. “You been fuckin’ this nigga for a while? You love him?”

“No!” Trina screamed, tears streaming down her face. “I fucked him, but I don’t love him! He was just a lick to get money for us when you came home!”

“So you *love* this nigga?” the man pressed, his finger twitching on the trigger.

“No!” Trina shouted, her voice breaking. “If I loved him, I wouldn’t be fuckin’ other niggas! I was lonely while you were locked up! I fucked him a few times for a paycheck. Since he’s been here, all I let him do is eat my pussy! For God’s sake, his dumb ass been eatin’ my pussy after his friends and a couple niggas I’m cool with nutted in me! Does that sound like I’m in love with this nigga?”