A Thug's Love 3 by Jessica Watkins

Author:Jessica Watkins [Watkins, Jessica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: David Weaver Presents
Published: 2016-01-24T05:00:00+00:00

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Something told me to go back to Dre’s house to see if she’d talked to Kennedy. Ever since the day that I burst into Dre’s mother’s house, I knew that she wouldn’t really contact me if she heard from Kennedy. The two of them were too close, and if Kennedy didn’t want her to, she wouldn’t. But I was willing to do what I had to do to get the information out of her that I needed that night. It had been over a week, and I hadn’t seen or heard from my queen or my princess. Shit, the distance wasn’t this great when she was in prison. A nigga was starting to lose it.

Just as I pulled up on Dre’s block, I saw her leaving out of the crib and jumping into the car. Something told me to just follow Dre, so I did. I stayed about three cars behind her as I followed her for about twenty minutes to this crib in Beverly. I noticed that the crib was nice as fuck as I parked a few houses down. Then I peeped Kennedy’s Bentley truck in the driveway and lost it! I mean, a nigga was relieved, but then I got pissed off just that quick as I peeped the bikes in the driveway. Those motorcycles belonged to a nigga, which meant this house belonged to a nigga! And if Kennedy had been laid up with a nigga all this time, I was killing him, and it was going to take everything in me not to kill her.

My phone rang, snapping me out of my murderous trance.

“Yo,” I answered without even looking to see who it was.

“Yea, bruh. That shit worked. Meech say Siren at home spooked like a motherfucka. I know it wasn’t part of the plan, but I wish those bullets could have hit them bitches.” Then he laughed. I would have found some humor in the shit too if I wasn’t watching some nigga walk out of the house that I saw Dre go into with my daughter’s hand in his.

I washed my hands over my face in attempt to keep myself from jumping out of my car and lighting this whole block up. My eyes squinted, trying to watch what this lame ass nigga was doing with Kayla. He’d disappeared into the garage with her and they emerged a few seconds later. She was in a pink, Camaro Power Wheel, and dude was behind her, protecting her, as she rode up and down the driveway.

“Yo’? Bruh?” I heard Dolla calling.

“Yea, I’m here.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I found Kennedy.”

“Word? Where?”

“Some nigga house. I ain’t went in yet.”

Soon as I said that shit, Dolla was on it. “Where you at, bro? I’m on my way.”

“Some house in Beverly. I’m ‘bout to shoot you the address.”

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