Читать книгу All The Wrong Places - G.I.F.T.D - Страница 11
ОглавлениеPicture-Perfect
As Amerie parked her Camaro, she reached into her Dolce & Gabbana purse and pulled out a chrome, snub-nose .38 revolver, with an ivory handle. Boon was a little shocked, but turned on at the same time. His facial expression reflected his sentiment. Amerie looked at him and said, “What? My dad gave all his girls straps. Chicago just ain’t a safe haven, ya know?”
Boon lifted his hands in surrender. “Ain’t judging; you ain’t on trial.” They shared a laugh.
“Hey, neighbor?” a man who lived under Boon called out to him, as he and Amerie started to ascend the flight of stairs to his abode. Boon stopped to see what the man wanted. “There was a young woman knocking at your door for about half an hour. She left and came back, knocked for about another half an hour. She even sat right there for a while.” The man was pointing at the stairs in front of his unit.
Where was this nosy dude the night I got attacked? Boon wondered. “What’d she look like, homie?” Boon asked him.
“Oh, she was a sexy—” the man paused and looked at Amerie, unsure how to continue the description.
“You can finish, we’re just friends,” Amerie assured the man.
“Well, she said her name was Taz and that you knew her. She said she needed to talk to you about an incident. She left you her number.” The neighbor handed Boon a piece of paper.
“Hey, bruh, I ‘preciate it.” Boon took the paper and continued up the stairs. When he looked back, Amerie had her .38 aimed and a “ready for whatever” look on her face. The couple entered the loft, cautiously, but no one seemed to have been there since Boon left for the ER.
“Damn! They fucked ya shit up!” Amerie exclaimed, taking in the scene in the living room. She walked into Boon’s bedroom and paused at the door. “So, this is where the magic happens, huh?” she asked, staring at the California king bed.
“Nah. The magic happens right here.” Boon was now standing in front of Amerie with his hand on his crotch. She blew him a kiss, as he turned back to get his stash from under his bed. He reluctantly pulled out his footlocker with the memorabilia from relationships past in it.
“What’s that?” she asked, when he sat both cases on the bed.
“Dumbass robbers missed the real money,” he said, opening the case of money, which contained $10,000 in 50’s and 20’s.
“Wow! You keep that kinda cash at your house all the time?” she asked, with a no wonder you got robbed tone in her voice.
“Yes. As a matter-of-fact, I do. It’s a just in case sorta thing. Never know what may go down,” Boon answered.
“Is the other one the same?” she inquired, taking a seat next to Boon on the bed. He was still quiet as a mouse, but staring at the box as if it was going to move on its own. “Am I not supposed to know what that box contains or something? I can step out and give you a minute or two.” Amerie was about to stand, until Boon broke his silence.
“These are all of the harlots of my past. The trifling-ass broads I told you about. Pictures and minuscule memoirs that were supposed to remind me of good things,” he said, as he opened the case. Amerie was rather anxious to see what type of taste he had. He had poor judgment of character, but damn, at least let these hoes look like something. Boon handed her four pictures.
“Which one is this?” Amerie held up one of the photos for Boon to identify.