Free Real Wifeys: Get Money by Meesha Mink

me out the bathroom leaving my man with his ho.
    Shit in my world changed in just that instant. Everything. These two motherfuckers were dead to me and I knew I was going to make them pay for this shit.
    “Fuck you, Goldie. Fuck both y’all scandalous-ass trife-life bitches,” I screamed over the bouncer’s shoulder. “The unjust don’t prosper, bitch.”
    The club manager closed the bathroom door, following the bouncers through the crowd as they carried me straight out that motherfucker like I wasn’t shit but a nuisance. Just as I saw Make$’s two bodyguards headed toward the bathroom.
    Fuck it.
    I pushed the bouncer off me as soon as he set me down on my Gucci feet outside the club. I stalked up the street, vaguely acknowledging that this was my second time getting booted out a fucking club. Ugh!
    I climbed into the Jag and started it. I couldn’t believe not only did Make$ get caught but his punk ass didn’t even come after me. That nigga was busted and embarrassed. Couldn’t even face me. Fuck him. I leaned back against the butter-soft leather headrest and closed my eyes as I waited for my heart to stop pounding.
    Tears welled up in my eyes but I blinked them away. Fuck crying. Fuck pity. Fuck it all.
    I started to call Eve, but she never really cared about Goldie and would be full of nothing but “I told you so.” Michel was away for the weekend with a part-time boo visiting from out of town. Wasn’t no need to ruin his weekend with my bullshit.
    I did call Missy though. Just what the fuck did she know and did I need to whup her ass too for not telling me? Her phone rang three times and went to voice mail. I skipped leaving a message and dialed her number again. And again.
    Maybe she couldn’t hear it ringing in the club.
    Maybe she didn’t have her phone on her.
    Maybe she was avoiding my call.
    I was about to call the bitch again when she called me.
    “Luscious! Oh my God, you and Goldie is wildin’ the fuck out,” she said, the sound of the party still going strong in the background.
    “No, that no-good, backstabbing bitch wildin’ out and she lucky her ass ain’t being carried out on a coroner’s stretcher,” I snapped back.
    “Damn, what happened?”
    I squinted my eyes as I held the BlackBerry with a death grip. “I caught her trifling ass in the bathroom with Make$—”
    “Oooh. So that shit is true?”
    “So I guess you didn’t know they was fucking. Right?” I asked, my heart pounding with adrenaline.
    “No I didn’t. For real. That’s pretty fucked up.”
    I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. “Ain’t shit pretty about it,” I said, not even sure I believed her.
    “Well, she just hired me to go on tour with them. . . . I guess she’s fucked that up.”
    I rolled my eyes. “Missy, no offense, but I really don’t give a fuck,” I snapped.
    “I’m just being honest, Luscious. Shit. That was good money I could use,” Missy shot right back at me. “Plus I didn’t even think Goldie would ever pull no shit like this. She’s always about her business.”
    “I know what I saw.”
    “So I heard.”
    Embarrassing. “Missy. Let me call you back.”
    I hung up before she could say another word. She wasn’t offering me any new info. Either she was blind to the fact or keeping herself out of the bullshit.
    My BlackBerry sounded again. I looked at it. Make$. I sent his ass straight to voice mail and wished I could send him straight to hell. Turning the phone off I tossed it onto the passenger seat and steered the Jag away from the curb. I had just pulled to a red light at the corner when I spotted the tall dude from the club. The one I saw Goldie hugging. He was walking up the street with his hands pushed deep inside the pockets of his jeans and his head down. He looked over at my vehicle as he continued up the street.
    Whoa.
    He was fine. That tall, dark and fine swagger with the lean features, high cheekbones, and slanted eyes. Dressed casual but stylish. None of that