was all Latrice heard when she accepted Bay’s collect call. She had accidentally missed his call on Friday messing around with Clarity, and now he was calling her back at ten a.m. on Monday morning mad as hell. “My bad, Bay. I was trying to make it to the phone on time. I thought you were going to call back.” “Why couldn’t you get to the damn phone? Did you have a nigga over there or somethin’?” “No I didn’t, and why are you all in my business anyway? You ain’t my man no more.” “Whatever, bitch. You know you lying like shit. I know you had a nigga over that mothafucka. That’s why ya lil’ dumb ass ain’t pick up the jack, ’cause you was too busy fuckin’.” “Whatever, Bay,” Latrice said with attitude. “You can believe whatever the fuck you want. I do me out here and you do your jailbird shit up in there.” “You got a lot of tough talk in you over the phone, huh? Don’t make me bank on ya lil’ ass when I get out.” I wish you would hit me again.
