Shattered Read Online Free

Where’s Toya’s ass? I mean, I appreciated Mommy putting the rental car in her name, but she ain’t have to always dismiss what I did do for her.
    “You know Toya might be getting a promotion soon? Her supervisor resigning at the end of the month,” Mommy said, smiling.
    I rolled my eyes. Here we go again with this Super Toya shit. I blocked out the rest of Mommy’s Toya brag-a-thon and focused on the thick traffic ahead of me. It took an hour to get to Lanham cuz of a car accident on 95, when it normally took thirty minutes. As soon as we pulled in the shopping center, I saw Peaches’s blue Infiniti truck already there.
    “Damn. She gon’ be mad as hell as usual.”
    “Don’t worry,” Mommy signed.
    Easy for her to say. Peaches was doing good on her own. Thanks to the life insurance policy she cashed in on her husband, Nut, and the rental properties she sold, she was able to reopen her salon after he was killed and move on with her life. As much as she put on a front like she ain’t miss him cuz he was an asshole who built his empire off of stolen drug money, flipping houses, and off of me, her, and my other girlfriends, she was ultra in love with that nigga. So in love that she worked the streets for years for him until he finally married her and put her up in a nice-ass house in bourgie Bowie, Maryland. The last time she saw him alive, her face was on his fist and he made her miscarry their second child. Their first son, Amir, was her new king.
    What really bugged everybody out was the way Nut was killed. His body was found in a Dumpster around Savannah Terrace, but his head was taped up in a bag floating down the Anacostia River. All of us knew a Haitian dealer named Smurf was behind it, but Nut had did everybody so motherfucking dirty that we ain’t have shit to say about it. Peaches was still depressed and spent most of her time in that big house with her son. Her ass needed to be in somebody’s therapy sessions for real.
    I pulled up to the salon Peaches named after herself and parked beside her truck.
    “About time,” Peaches said as soon as I walked in. She already had a client in her chair, even though the store had only been open for ten minutes. Knowing Peaches, she was probably there at the crack of dawn. She was a workaholic, looking like money first thing in the morning, with her fresh do, gloss, cute mint-green top, and charcoal stretch jeans.
    “I know, I know. I’m sorry,” I said, pointing at Mommy.
    “Hi, Ms. Scott,” Peaches said, smiling.
    Mommy waved and said, “Sawry.”
    I looked at the book, checked the voice mail, and added new appointments to the schedule. Next, I went to make sure there was enough clean towels and that none needed folding.
    “Anything you need me to do?” I asked Peaches.
    “Yes, please, please, please go down to the beauty supply store and get me some color. I already called, and they holding three bottles for me.”
    “I got you.” I signed to Mommy that I was going a couple doors down to pick something up for Peaches.
    When I came back, I washed Mommy’s hair and two other girls who had come in to get their hair done with Daneen and Kori. My phone vibrated in my pocket. Meeka had sent me a text:
    YOU WANNA DO A PARTY WITH ME LATER?
    I had to think about that one. Knowing Meeka, wasn’t no money in it whatsoever. My wallet was empty as hell, though, and that rental wasn’t free. I texted back: FOR WHO, HOW MUCH, AND WHERE?
    She sent me back: MY COUSIN HAVING A SMALL PARTY AT THE LA QUINTA IN WALDORF FOR HIS BOY THAT JUST GOT OUT.
    Waldorf? That’s too damn far, number one.
    I texted: NAH, THAT’S OKAY.
    Meeka sent: GIRL, HE GON’ GIVE US $500 APIECE. YOU KNOW HE JUST GOT HIS TAX REFUND CHECK BACK. TRYING TO DO IT UP AND SHIT.
    I laughed, then sent: DANCE OR PLUS MORE?
    Meeka sent: DANCE, BUT MORE IF YOU WANT. TIPS ARE ALWAYS GOOD :-)
    That wasn’t bad. Maybe I can make next month’s rent in just one night. After I finished washing another head