Shattered Read Online Free Page A

and saw that Mommy was under the dryer, I asked Peaches what she thought about it on the low. Peaches was more than my boss, she was like my sister. Since we used to work the streets together for Nut, we was closer than me, Toya, and Yodi ever could be. I mean fighting bitches for each other, going to jail together, and everything. She knew what was up. My shampooing job was just a steady check and what I gave the IRS. I got as many hours as I wanted cuz I worked hard. I loved to see my girl doing good, plus she had been through so much. She deserved to have her dreams come true.
    “I don’t know, KiKi,” she said. “That shit is far for you. Plus, you ain’t got nobody watching your back. What if some hard-up nigga get outta hand?”
    Peaches was right, I guess. “But it’s her family, though,” I tried again.
    Peaches shook her head. “I know how it is, KiKi, but I just don’t want nothing to happen to you. Those kinda parties can get crazy quick. You know how them niggas be drinking and shit.”
    Meeka sent another text. It said: SO WHAT’S UP? Even with all the hours I got from Peaches, it just wasn’t as much as I really needed.
    I sent Meeka one letter, K , then slid my phone back in my pocket. I ain’t have no lump stash of money tucked nowhere like Peaches. It was just me. I had to do what I had to do. I smiled at Mommy, then walked over to the sink and washed another head.
     
    Of course, I was the ride out to Waldorf since Meeka ain’t never have shit. And 93.9 was doing their thing, too. I blasted Kelis’s “Bossy” as loud as it could go. Meeka was in the mirror putting her makeup on, spraying way too much of her Juicy Couture Show Off that kept making me sneeze.
    “Girl, my cousin ain’t gonna be the only one with his refund check.”
    “Meeka, you don’t mind stripping for your cousin?” I asked, still trying to wrap my mind around that part.
    “He gotta be like my third or fourth cousin. Our blood more like Kool-Aid,” she said, laughing.
    “You stupid as hell. Your lying ass just wanted me to come.”
    “Money is money. Shit, you can give him a private dance. I’ll get his money-making friends,” she sang.
    When we pulled up, Meeka called her cousin Harold to come outside and get us. He was cute as hell with his caramel face, neatly shaved beard, and confident walk. Harold looked strong as shit, like a UFC fighter or something.
    “How y’all doing,” he said, smiling at me.
    I winked at him.
    “What’s up, cuz?” he said, laughing and squeezing Meeka’s round ass stuffed in those black liquid leggings.
    That’s when I knew for certain I had been lied to. I shook my head, then texted the address to Peaches, just in case. Back in the day, Nut took care of this part, but things had changed. Peaches sent me back: BE CAREFUL GIRL. LUV U. The music was low when we walked in the suite. Only four dudes was in there. Meeka gave me 250 dollars as soon as we got in the bathroom.
    “He said we gon’ get the rest when we finish dancing.”
    “Is this gon’ be it?” Surprised at how few dudes was in there.
    “Yeah, girl. It’s private as hell, ain’t it?”
    I nodded. “But that’s fine with me.”
    “Me, too. Shit. I hope they wanna fuck, too, cuz I ain’t getting no damn tax refund check.”
    I laughed, then took a shot of Grand Marnier I had in my bag. Meeka fixed her breasts in her bustier. I fixed my fishnet bodysuit. It had been a long time since I danced. I ain’t have no routine. All I needed was the music and somewhere to shake my ass.
    “I brought this,” she said, smiling sneakily, holding up a three-foot-long, double-sided dildo. She raised her eyebrows, and I smiled. This girl was off the chain.
    “Let’s see what those tips looking like first.”
    “All right,” she said, slapping my butt.
    “You ready?” I said, stepping into my five-inch heels.
    “Yeah, let’s go!” Meeka squealed.
    Jay-Z’s “Big Pimpin’” played from the radio. Me and Meeka