Tre Pound 2: Troublesome by Jordan Belcher

Author:Jordan Belcher [Belcher, Jordan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, United States, African American, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Thrillers
ISBN: 0985190337
Amazon: B007QGQI34
Publisher: Felony Books
Published: 2014-01-18T05:00:00+00:00

***

“Sexy as shit. I see why Tre Pound banged you.”

Camille bolted upright in her bed, her arms wrestling the air, fighting off the dream image of her mother and cousin. She bumped something—or someone—off her mattress and there was a heavy thud as it hit the floor, much of the blanket sliding off the edge with it. Her eyes snapped open and the last remnants of the dream started to flit away. She dropped her hands to her side.

She was panting quickly, the nightmare still haunting the edges of her consciousness. Her chest was soaked with perspiration and a bra strap hung off her shoulder loosely.

“I’m glad that wasn’t real,” she breathed when she was sure she was in Bernice’s house. The trash bag she crammed with clothes was still in the corner where she left it before she fell asleep. Everything looked norm—

Suddenly, a hand came up and slapped down on her mattress. Camille shrieked as she watched a whole arm to the elbow emerge next, the person on her floor pulling himself up. Then Seneca stuck his head up with a look of guilt on his face.

“What are you doing in my room while I’m sleep?!” Camille snapped.

On his knees, Seneca shrugged as if he felt worthless.

“You were in my bed! Why were you in my bed?!”

“I was just holdin’ you,” he said quietly. “You let Tre Pound sleep wit’ you. I heard yall talkin’ about it.”

Camille’s face sagged in shock. Oh shit he knows! He must have heard the whole damn argument. But when Tre Pound asked him if he’d been listening in on what they were talking about, Seneca had played dumb like he didn’t hear a thing.

She recovered from her shock and gave him the meanest face she could muster. “I don’t know what the fuck you talkin’ about but you better get outta my room right now,” she hissed.

He used the bed to push himself up. “If you tell on me, I’ma tell on yall.”

She thwacked him in the arm with a pillow. “Just get out!”

He left the room in his boxer shorts and shut the dragging door without looking back.

Camille threw the covers off of her, got out of bed and grabbed the chair next to the dresser. She propped it under the door knob and hoped it would hold through the night.

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