The Available Wife by Pennington Carla

Author:Pennington, Carla [Pennington, Carla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Life Changing Books
Published: 2015-08-19T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

A week after the reception, I drove through my gated community admiring the bomb ass job that La-lien had done on my nails. If I didn’t know they were acrylic, I would’ve mistaken them for the real thing. Kingston was still giving me the silent treatment, but truthfully it should’ve been the other way around. He was the one acting like a fucking teenager and kissing his wife in front of me. I was pissed, and I wanted to voice it to him. He needed to know how I felt.

Seconds later, I pulled into my yard and came to an abrupt stop when I saw that Germaine’s truck was parked on the lawn. He had lost his mind. I paid over two grand for that grass to look like that.

“His stupid ass knows better than this,” I fumed before gliding out of my car and storming inside the house. “Germaine! Germaine! Where in the hell are you? You need to get that truck off my grass before you fuck it up!” I shouted before searching the house for him.

Eventually, I found him in the basement or better known as his could-have-been-studio. He was playing some tunes on his Yamaha keyboard while tapping on his beat machine at the same time. I hadn’t been down in the basement in so long that I’d completely forgotten that the old ass equipment was there. He needed an upgrade, but I wasn’t about to give him money for it.

“You need to move your truck off the grass, Germaine. I paid a lot of money for that grass.”

“I know what the fuck…you paid for. I… was with you when you picked it out,” he slurred before turning up the Grey Goose bottle. I glanced down at his feet and saw a few beer bottles as well. His ass was drunk. “Where are the boys?”

“What the fuck do you care? You’re never here anyway.”

“Fuck you, Germaine. I hope you get sclerosis of the fucking liver.”

I turned and walked back upstairs. My boys were nowhere to be found, so I assumed they were with his folks. He normally didn’t get hammered when they were around. Plus, I’m sure he wanted to sulk in his own damn misery.

“Why won’t you go with me to Hummer’s funeral?” he startled me after I walked out of the kitchen a few minutes later.

I stepped away from him because he was all in my face with his rancid breath. The combination of alcohol and cigarettes didn’t sit too well with me.

“You already know that I’ll be in New Orleans checking out some new talent so, I don’t know why you fixed your mouth to ask me that,” I said, before walking down the stairs. He was close on my heels.

“Isn’t that what you pay people for?”

“Yes, but I’m going and you know why. But if all of the alcohol that you consume has warped your brain, let me refresh your memory.”

“No need.”

“Good.”

He knew good and damn well why I was going. I loved being part of the scouting.

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