Grip Trilogy Box Set - Kennedy Ryan Page 0,260

it hypocritical?” Controlled rage is evident in Grip’s narrowed eyes and the fists clenched on his knees. “I don’t see anything incongruent about those two things, unless you are operating under the false assumption that me wanting to end systemic racism equates to me hating white people. I don’t hate white people—I hate racism.”

Grip pauses meaningfully, tipping his chin back to study her closely.

“We gave you a pass when you chose a white woman over the Black woman you said was your queen,” she says.

Not true. It drives me crazy when people assume “Queen” was written for Qwest, and the #GripzQueen hashtag still haunts me occasionally on social media.

“Did you hear me asking for a pass?” Grip cocks one brow, his voice even but taut with outrage. “You don’t give me passes because I don’t need your approval.”

“All I’m saying is I bet you won’t find Dr. Hammond pulling this. You may talk woke,” Angie asserts with relish, “but your walk is broke.”

Oh, I bet she’s been saving that line for a special occasion.

“Oh, you wanna compare walks?” Grip sits up straight, his words sounding like a battle cry. “Check my record—I’ve put my resources where my mouth is. I take every chance to engage with these issues, not just throw money at them, and what exactly have you done other than start Twitter beef and host a podcast?”

“Don’t throw shade at me for voicing what most Black women think,” she fires back. “I just thought I should bring it up because I wasn’t sure if you were ashamed of her or what. We rarely see you out or in the news with her the way you have been in past relationships. You must realize how bad it looks.”

“I see no need to satisfy the curiosity of people who don’t mean well,” Grip replies. “Who only want to play in mud and make a mess of people’s lives on Twitter and Instagram. She isn’t a public figure, and I’m protective of her privacy. She chose me, but she didn’t ask to live on blast. I try to honor that. Believe me, it has nothing to do with me being embarrassed.”

“She may not be a public figure,” Angie says. “But she’s sleeping with one, and she’s related to one. Her name is Bristol Gray, for those who may have missed it since you’ve been hiding her, and her brother is Rhyson Gray—now that’s a big name. You don’t mess around. Go white or go home, huh?”

“I came on this panel to talk about issues,” Grip says. “Real issues that are costing us lives and compromising our future. You, however, chose to talk about shit that doesn’t matter and isn’t anyone’s business but mine and my girlfriend’s. I bet the men sitting in jail too long for petty crimes, or for crimes they didn’t even commit, those looking for jobs or needing education to even compete for them, all the people I want to help won’t give a damn if the person helping has a white girlfriend or not.”

Grip stands, reaching to loosen the mic from the collar of his T- shirt.

“So, I say, with all due respect, Angie.” He holds the mic in his hand, farther away from his mouth, but there’s no mistaking his parting. “Go fuck yourself.”

He flings the mic onto the couch, leaving various degrees of shock and satisfaction on the faces of those who remain.

“Peeps, you heard that.” Angie turns her gaze to the camera. “Now I want to hear from you. Where do you stand on Black men pretending to be all woke, but first chance they get, going for a white woman? Leave comments on YouTube, on Facebook, tweet us, tag us on Instagram. Hashtag #PlayingInTheSnow.”

She levels a more parting smile at her watching audience, the kind of smile you give when things go exactly as you’ve planned.

Chapter 14

Grip

“SHIT!”

The expletive bounces off the walls of the narrow corridor as I leave the stage and head for the greenroom to collect my things. I can’t believe I allowed that conniving chick to lure me into that trap.

“Grip!”

I don’t turn even though I hear Qwest right on my heels and calling my name.

“Grip, stop.”

I’m still not stopping. Rage pumps toxins into my bloodstream, and I might poison anyone I make contact with right now.

“Man, hold up,” Qwest says louder, irritation lacing the words. “Grip.”

“What?”

The word cannons from my mouth, and I turn around abruptly, Qwest slamming into my chest. Breathing like a bull, air streams from my