Free A Thug's Wife (Full Length Novel) by Shan Page B

lighter on the coffee table, grabbed it, and put flame to the cancer stick.
    “Fuck you mean you need your money? Fuck you talking about?”
    “I need my money. Seeing as how I gave Dan-D a hundred racks tuh deliver me some work and he did not, I need tuh either see my money or I need my product. Whichever is fine with me.”
    “Nigga, you done lost your fuckin’ mind. You need to holla at Dan-D about that shit. Fuck I got to do with you and what that nigga had going on. Devon let’s get the fuck up out of here,” Quasym waved his hand and headed for the door. “Oh yea, nigga the next time you come near my fuckin’ wife it won’t be no words shared. Coming with them straight shooters, believe that shit.”
    Hova laughed, “What shooters nigga? You ain’t got no muthafuckin’ shooters! Get me my muthafuckin’ bands and do dat shit immediately. I want my shit by tomorrow morning or yuh gonna feel me and my muthafuckin’ shooters young blood! Yuh feel me?”
    By now Jazz had stepped out of the bedroom and was keeping a close eye on the heated argument that ensued between Hova and Quasym. She was hoping them niggas didn’t start fighting and fucking up the little bit of good shit she had in her apartment. She stepped closer to Hova and grabbed the back of his arm in an attempt to calm him down.
    “Let’s go Sym, this nigga bugging,” Devon said as he grabbed Quasym’s arm. He knew that Quasym had a pistol on his waist loaded with hot led, and he didn’t need him to react without fully thinking.
    He was all for ending Hova’s life for what he had done to Zaria ‘cause had it been his wife; he would have, but now was not the time or the place for that. The park ing lot of the Butter Bean’s was filled with niggas, bitches, and their kids and there would be too many witnesses that could place them. They had to be smart and get at that nigga Hov on another day.
    “Nah, my mon’ I ain’t bugging.  I want my hundred band s or I want my dope. Ya mons’ here killed Dan-D, and my shit is amiss. I don’t give a fuck how y’all figure dat shit out in ya’ head, but I want my shit by tomorrow morning. I’m not gonna continue tuh wait,” Hova explained to Devon.
    Quasym lost it. He bom b rushed Hova, knocking him to the ground and punching him the face. His skin had damn near turned purple upon hearing the words that left out of Hova’s mouth. He didn’t know how Hova had known and who else had known for that matter. That was a secret that he planned to ride to his grave with. Andres promised to never say anything and the only other person that was supposed to have known was Dan-D, and it wasn’t like he was talking from the grave.
    Hova threw a punch at Quasym, but it was quickly blocked wh en Quasym threw his hands up coming up with his pistol. He pressed the gun into Hova’s forehead begging him to give him a reason not to pull the trigger. He wanted to so bad not giving a fuck about the consequences. Hova violated him in the worse way, and he wanted to make that nigga pay. Not only that, Hova knew his fucking secret, and he wanted to shut him up.
    “Wait a minute nigga! Hold the fuck up! Don’t be bringing that shit up in my house!’ Jazz yelled hoping that Quasym was not about to turn her plac e into a crime scene.
    “Yo’, Sym! Come on man; let’s get the fuck out of here! Now is not the time!” Devon placed his hand on Quasym’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down.
    “Nigga, yuh know yuh better pull dat fucking trigger,” Hova said. His mouth filled with blood that he spit it into Quasym’s face. Quasym took the gun and pounded it into Hova’s face. He brought it up again to hit him when Devon wrapped his arms around Quasym’s body and pulled him away.
    “Get the fuck off of me!” Quasym yelled pushing Devon away.
    Quasym pointed the gun at Hova, but noticed that he was already out cold. He then looked up at Jazz and pointed the gun at her. The fuck man! How the fuck this nigga