Carl Weber Presents Ride or Die Chick 4 by J.M. Benjamin Page A

watched as the group of bikers mobbed together and ignored the long lines in front of the club. They walked straight to the entrance. The huge security guard acknowledged them and unhooked the velvet rope from the brass rail, while stepping to the side. Another guard in a full three-piece suit appeared from out of nowhere and escorted them inside.
    Treacherous’s and Baby’s attention was drawn to the females in packs with next to nothing on, strutting past. Most of them were applying lip gloss to their lips and spraying themselves down with their favorite fragrances, while dudes in cliques floated past rotating blunts, Black & Milds, and unfinished bottles of liquor before they reached the front entrance of the club. Treacherous and Baby exited the car. The weather couldn’t have been more perfect that night. A light, warm breeze filled the air to complement the eighty-four-degree weather Virginia Beach was having.
    Club Aqua in Virginia Beach off of Virginia Beach Boulevard was one of the places to be on the weekend. The old Virginia House of Comedy’s Friday and Saturday nights were guaranteed to be jumping. Partygoers from all over came in droves to turn up at the nightclub. The storefront-style club’s blue A QUA neon sign illuminated the top of the establishment. Treacherous and Baby rolled up to the front of the club. They both looked to the left and right of them. The VIP entrance on their left flowed steadily while the general admission line on their right moved at a snail’s pace. Treacherous noticed someone staring at him. It was one of the club promoters with a clipboard in his hand. Treacherous matched the man’s stare as he started making a beeline over toward him and Baby.
    â€œY’all got a table or on a list?” the club promoter asked abruptly.
    Treacherous shot him a blank stare. “Nah,” Treacherous dryly replied.
    â€œIs everything okay, Gov?” one of the bouncers chimed in. He and Treacherous were nearly matched in height and build. That still didn’t stop Treacherous from directing his attention to the man and shooting him a rock stare. The bouncer instantly caught it.
    â€œIs there a problem?” The bouncer stared into Treacherous’s eyes.
    â€œNot unless you causing one,” Treacherous retorted.
    Baby was tempted to intervene, but she knew Treacherous could handle the situation. In her mind, she was already contemplating running back to the car and grabbing her and Treacherous’s guns if shit hit the fan outside the club.
    â€œHe good, Big Junior, I got him,” the club promoter referred to as Gov interjected on Treacherous’s behalf. The club was rocking too much to have it shut down over a frivolous pissing contest, thought Gov.
    â€œStep over here with me.” Gov directed his words to Treacherous and Baby. “I can get y’all straight in if y’all doing bottle service,” he wasted no time informing them.
    â€œOkay,” Baby answered for the both of them.
    â€œCool.” Gov smiled. “They call me the Ghetto Governor and I’ll be taking care of you,” he chimed.
    The sound of his name resonated in Treacherous’s mind. For some reason, he thought he had heard the name Ghetto Governor before, but couldn’t place it.
    â€œI just need to know what package you want, two bottle minimum for where I’d like to put y’all,” he announced.
    â€œThat’s fine.” Baby nodded.
    â€œBig man, that’s cool with you?” Ghetto Governor tried to ease what little tension there may have been brewing between Treacherous and the bouncer Big Junior.
    â€œIf she’s fine with it, so am I.” Treacherous’s words were straight and to the point.
    â€œNo doubt!” Ghetto Governor left it at that. “So, all I need is a credit card and your IDs.”
    Treacherous and Baby both looked at each other and then back at him. “We’re paying cash