SERIES 2. CHPTR 1 (7)

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I never ended up getting a new phone to write these on so I'm terribly soz guys. I went to the Eminem concert back in February that was pretty cool. I was like 6 rows from the front and could barely fucking see so I'd hate to have been the cunts up the back.

Anyway this is part two of the story. Chapter 1 of it, but chapter 7 over all. I'll update more often now. Let me know if it's shit. I'm having a massive mind blank lately.

Oh my god!" I screamed, slamming the car door, "why the FUCK do you gotta to do this, Jimmy?!"

It was always like this. Ever since we moved in together. I could deal with the late nights where I'd wait up for him and he wouldn't come home. I could deal with the random men rocking up, I could handle the drug binges. But this,this I could not tolerate.

Being called a fuckin' liar.

"Me?!" He yelled back, following me down the battered tar road. "You wanna blame this on me?! Tiff turn the fuck around!" He called, I kept my brisk pace.

Fuck him.

"TIFFANY" Jimmy called from behind once again "turn around. Fucking talk to me"

I stopped dead in my tracks, turning to face him. I was now completely overtaken by the rage I was attempting to suppress.
"Talk to you?!" I spat, just inches from my boyfriends face, "what? So you can stand there and tell me I'm a fuckin' liar? That I'm out fucking around behind your back again?"

Jimmy screwed his face up, if I wasn't so pissed off id say he was cute. "Yeah well" he looked back the car, avoiding my gaze "how am I meant to fucking trust you when you're out with your friends" he mumbled.

"What?!" I screeched, still ready to scream at him. That got his attention. he snapped his face to my direction and pushed my upper half back, leaving his hand gripped onto my shoulder. I winced slightly at the pain, but also kind of expected it.

"I said" he leant in, "how the FUCK am I meant to trust you when you go out with your hoe ass friends. You know what they're like. Motherfuckers see you with them. They see the fucking guys hanging around. They tell me all types of shit, Tiff" he shoved me back once before he turned around, hands in his pockets. If I didn't give in now, all hell would break loose.

"Jimmy" I stepped forward "it fucking hurts when you say that shit. When you believe everyone over me." I paused slightly to compose myself, these fights were a regular occurrence, "Two fuckin' years." I was now holding back tears, I was so angry but deep down I knew there was absolutely no point arguing with him.

"Who was there when your mom overdosed TWICE? Who was there to help you care for your sister for a whole month, Jimmy?"

He once again faced me with a softer expression. I continued, "I get that we are going through a tough time right now. I know you're hella stressed. I don't know what the FUCK we are gonna do either but please" i trailed off.

Jimmy stepped towards me, we were damn lucky this was a quiet back street because on one of the main roads we would have either had a lot of spectators or been hit by a car by now. "I know" he wiped the stray tear off my face before cupping it softly. I flinched involuntarily. He instantly noticed, sighing "I'm sorry babe, you know I just get so worked up. I don't know what to think when I hear of cocksuckers being all over my girl. My mind is just all over the place"

I wanted so desperately to be mad. But I just didn't have it in me right now.
"I get it." I glanced down, "I just wish you wouldn't go off like this about it"

We decided to go home. Jimmy had been waiting to find some guy he was beefin' with. To be honest, I don't think it was even his fight. A heap of he said she said bullshit. He was gonna get himself shot at one of these days.

The drive home was silent. I know he was throwing looks, I could see his frustrated glare from the corner of my eye. Instead of retaliation I just turned my attention to the passing houses. We had driven trough central Detroit. I wish I could afford these sorts of houses. It's all I wished for when I was a kid. As a kid, momma and I always had to catch the bus, travelling on the overpass above the wealthy suburbs I always pictured myself some day - by some miracle - owning a gorgeous mansion. Dreaming, though. Right.

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