Carl Weber's Kingpins by Blake Karrington

Author:Blake Karrington [Karrington, Blake]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2016-11-14T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Yogi sat in the passenger’s seat listening to V101.9. They were playing the best of Frankie Beverly and Maze, and she was floating with the music. She needed a distraction today. Her son was in jail, he was dealing with a weak-ass broad, and to top it all off, she had found some text messages on Carlton’s phone from some chick named Veronica.

“Hey, I need you to stop by and take care of me, Papi,” is what the urgent text read.

She had looked up the number, and it went to some stylist at a salon on Central Ave named Honey Blossoms. The bitch sounded Hispanic on the phone when Yogi had called her. She made an appointment to get her hair done with the trick. She would make sure that Veronica was taken care of and not in the way she wanted.

The more Yogi drove, the angrier she got. By the time she made it to the salon, her temper was on lava level. She walked into the hair shop, sat down, and waited for the woman to walk out into the lobby to bring her back to her station.

Yogi smiled at her as she walked around the corner. Veronica wore a black latex top with black leggings, her breasts were on display, and she had cherry-red lipstick on. Her long curly hair was loose and cascading down her back. She was young enough to be dating King, not Carlton.

“Hey, you Misha?” Veronica asked Yogi.

“No, bitch, I’m Yogi, Carlton’s wife.”

The girl stared at her for a moment, but before she could say anything, Yogi hit her with an uppercut that sent her flying back against the glass doors of the salon entrance. Yogi dragged her by the hair through the salon. The girl was screaming and kicking, but Yogi kept punching her in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her. She found the restroom and threw the girl inside.

“Look, you little bitch. I don’t know how you met him, and I don’t care, but you better stay away from him. This will be the one and only fucking warning to you. You hear me? Keep your fucking ass away from my husband or the next time I come back, somebody will be calling the ambulance for your ass.” Yogi gave her another smack across the cheek and added, “Don’t make me have to come back down here again!”

With that, she opened the door. One of the male stylists was standing there holding a flat iron. She jumped at him, and he dropped the iron and stood back. As Yogi was leaving, she looked at the station where the stylist worked. There was a picture of the Dominican woman with a handsome young man and a little girl. Yogi shook her head and walked out of the salon.

She was so hurt by Carlton’s betrayal with this girl. She really thought he loved her, and would never do something so dirty. Why would he cheat on her? Yogi knew she looked damn good, and her bedroom skills were well above average.

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