Like Ice and Coco or Mickey and Mallory, Jo Jo and Passion embody the complex spirit of unity and drama in a relationship. The Detroit-based pair find themselves on the run from love and life after an indecent proposal turns their world upside down. He's thirsting for a full-time freak and a big break in the hustle. She's longing for affection and a sturdy financial security blanket. Both are starving for the ultimate come-up!
Will the hood's favorite interracial couple overcome the barriers fate throws in their path, or will jealousy, lust, and greed shatter their love forever?
From Thug's Passion, Chapter 7: Been Watching You
Dressed comfortably in street clothes, a navy blue Tigers hat, a long black T-shirt, and blue jeans, Passion stood alone against the light pole in front of the club. It was still two hours left to closing. High-end vehicles and their owners were just rolling in. Passion was still fuming from the brief meeting she had with Tom nearly 30 minutes ago. The boss chewed into her ass about too much conversing and not enough twerking. He reminded her that they were in the business of selling fantasies, not enlightening conversations and friendships. She tried to convince him that she was working her way up to it, but Mr. Meany Pants wouldn’t hear of it. The end result left Passion storming from his office totally irate, feeling disrespected and contemplating her resignation. For now, she clocked out early with plans of getting smashed in observance of her fucked up day.
Walking circles along the pavement, Passion sighed, “Alright Jas, you need to hurry up.” With her pride on the line, scratched, scarred, and battered, Passion just couldn't bring herself to reconcile with Jo Jo – at least for the time being. He phoned about an hour ago, probably to ask if she needed a ride home, but she didn’t even bother answering. Instead she decided to call Jasmine and make her man wait it out.
“Shit.” Passion began to regret her decision to wait outside when a black Lexus pulled alongside the curb in front of her. The Plymouth and Southfield Road area wasn't necessarily the most savory region of Detroit, but she was more concerned with being annoyed by some wanna be baller than mugged by a villain of the night.
Passion squinted her eyes in attempt to view the driver as the vehicle came to a halt. The passenger window slid down and a voice spoke, “So how about that dance?”
Instantly, Passion put two and two together, matching that dark smile with the smooth stranger she met at the booth. She smiled and returned, “Hey you. Sorry boo, it’s after hours. For me at least.”
The man scanned his surroundings and performed a quick evaluation of the environment. He saw a homeless man walking across the street. A group of young thuggish looking black males approaching from down the block. “Now I’m not from the area, but it don’t look too safe. You sure you don’t need a ride?”
While she dug the stranger as they sat at the booth shooting the shit, Passion was almost back to baseline and not feeling his proposal at all. On the real, the shit was downright creepy.
“No thank you,” she resisted with a big smile. My friend should be here any minute.”
“Okay,” the man returned, his tone full of disappointment.
Perhaps she wasn't the chosen one for his personal motive-driven initiative. Every now and then fate tosses a monkey wrench in the game. Just enough hindrance to produce a false positive. The man let off an exasperated sigh and placed a hand on the gear shift, prepared to take off. Before he could pedal the accelerator, the sky uttered a wicked roar of thunder, succeeded by a brilliant flash of lightening that momentarily illuminated the heavens. Clouds expanded and within seconds, rain poured down fast and hard.
Feeling like an idiot as she stood there being pummeled by the violent downpour, Passion
folded her arms and pouted her lips while thinking, “Why me? Smooth move dumb ass!”
“Come on now,” the stranger pitched, forced to raise his voice above the thunderous elements. “No need to wait in the rain. Catch a cough and runny nose. We can sit right here while you wait for your friend.”
With her precious hair taking an absolute pounding, Passion gave his latest invitation little thought. Fate dealt her this hand. Now she was obliged to play it. As naive as a 24-year old white chick could be, Passion also had some seasoned wit about her, enough to know that accepting that invitation placed her in a precarious situation equivalent to putting her life in danger. But Jo Jo taught her well, well enough to encourage her to take advantage of the right to bear arms. Passion was strapped more often than not since obtaining her CCW license nearly a year ago. So if ole Prince Charming showed a smidge of shadiness, he'd feel the cold nose of her trusty .380 against his temple.