“Real talk, need you to understand and respect that I’m not going to come running to you or Menace when it comes to her. I handle my business too, especially about that one.”
“I can respect that.” He held his hand out and dapped me up. “Will Menace, I don’t know.”
“Nigga better be cool before I stir up his mash potatoes.”
“Jokes on you, nigga don’t eat starch soup.”
“What?”
He waved his hands. “Don’t worry about it.”
We sat in the park for a little bit before Aimee called him and reminded him that they had brunch plans. Aimee was interning as a cyber specialist for the FBI. It wasn’t a job or internship that was easily granted. She had to interview like everyone else and go through a shit ton of background checks. Corleon padded her resume to make it look like all her past experiences was legit.
Bando still had some energy when we got off the elevator. I took his leash off and raced him down the hallway, smoking his fat ass in the process. He sat at the door, as I opened it.
Boobie was sitting at the counter when we entered. She was changed into a pair of leggings and cropped shirt, and her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. We had been gone for a minute, so she did have enough time to shower and shit before we came back.
“Good morning,” I greeted, and sat his leash on the foyer table.
She looked at me and didn’t speak. Instead, she started to pet Bando, while purposely ignoring me. I washed my hands and grabbed a drink from the fridge while she continued with the silent treatment she was giving me.
My moms was the type that loved silence in the morning, so I respected that. I had a celly that required the same thing, so I knew how to pivot to other people’s needs and requirements. I was a first-born son, so I was used to compromising and reading the room. While I was the type that was ready to have a conversation first thing in the morning, everybody wasn’t built like that.
Everybody wasn’t me.
I leaned on the back counter while taking a sip of the green drink she had in the fridge. “Not a morning person?”
Zoya looked me dead in my eyes and still didn’t say a word.
I nodded my head and continued to lean on the counter, wondering when the fuck she was going to speak. In Barbados, I noticed she was quieter in the morning but didn’t think nothing into it.
“What the fuck was last night?” Her tone was icy.
Shit was so cold that she could freeze this nasty ass green drink that I was babysitting.
“Personal business, Boobie.”
She removed herself from the counter. “I’m a fucking defense attorney, Gerald. What if that shit went wrong and I was caught up in that shit? You had a gun to that man’s head in broad daylight.”
“Yo ass was high because it was fucking nighttime. And yeah, I would have pulled that trigger too.”
I didn’t like that I wasn’t in control of my actions or emotions last night. I allowed Peso’s frail ass to bring me out of myself. I prided myself on the discipline that I had worked on through the years.
When it came to my baby cousin, Ramelle, I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t practice discipline because that shit was still sore for me.
I couldn’t protect him.
“Yeah, I can’t do this street shit… I’m not going to end up in some shit because you can’t control yourself.”
Chuckling, I looked at her. “Yet, you were letting that bum ass nigga fuck on you. He be in those same ass streets. Faking that shit, but he still in those same streets. Don’t do that.”
I tossed the half-filled bottle into the trash, and she rushed over to grab it. “Empty all bottles before the trash.” She raised her voice at me, triggered, because I tossed the bottle into the trash with juice still in it.
Her body language was tense as she unscrewed the bottle top and emptied it into the sink. Once she was done, she started to scrub the green juice from the sink, and clean out the bottle.
“What the fuck is this really about?” I had been raised around women my entire life, so I was smart enough to know that this didn’t come from nowhere.
“Don’t fucking curse at me.”
