“Boy, if I thought you were serious, I would have you committed,” Kross said, shaking his head.
“She loves me, Kross. She wants to be here. She’s just scared to come back.”
“You think chaining her up in your basement is going to help with that fear?”
“Not in the basement. I would put her in the guest room. Nah, you know what? She can have my bedroom.”
“Do I need to have Mama get Pastor Cook over here to lay hands on you?” my brother asked, lifting his brows.
“It’s just a thought.”
“But y’all boys love to call me crazy. At least I got a reason to be shell shocked. I was in the marines. I was an assassin. Y’all niggas just tender around the nut sack. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever, nigga. I need a tracker on her too. I’ll get Blaine to do that. In the meantime, I want you to make the owners of her security company an offer they can’t refuse.”
“You wanna buy the company?” Kross asked.
“For up to twenty five percent over asking to rush the process along. You want me to get my girl. I’m getting her the right way.”
“What else you need, boss?”
“Tell me why your wife is taking my mama to the strip club? She’s corrupting my poor mama. She gone have to be baptized again if she keeps messing around with your little freaky wife.”
“Aye, don’t be talking about my wife’s level of freakiness, little boy. For your information, Mom took my innocent, angelic wife to the strip club, not the other way around.”
“Keep your wild ass wife away from my mama. I already keep missing her so-called boyfriend. I can’t wait to catch Lester’s old ass over there. I’m going right upside his head.”
“Kannon, do not go over there fucking with that man.”
“I don’t want some punk sniffing up around my mom trying to get in her pants. She doesn’t need that at her age. It’s time for her to sit down and rock in the rocking chair while she watches her grandchildren play. Mama don’t need to be trying to get her groove back.”
“You sound like a lil’ ho right now, Bro. Mama is old enough to make her own decisions and young enough to enjoy herself. Get out of that before she goes upside your head. You know she’ll do it.”
“I’m not letting no leisure suit wearing gigolo take advantage of my mama.”
“Mind your business, Bro. Back to you. I thought you wanted your girl back.”
“She made her choice, Kross. That don’t mean I’m not on his ass. She doesn’t want him any more than she wants me.”
“Be careful, Bro.”
The reporter switched to a lighter note talking about the award show from last night that I refused to watch. I turned down a lucrative contract to not have to see Carteay and her boy up close and personal. It had been two months since I’d laid eyes on her. I had no idea how I would react to her if I saw her. I knew what I would do once I got close enough to put my hands on Cyrus, though, so I was keeping my distance from them both.
Eight weeks did little to nothing to ease the ache in my heart or the hollow in the center of my chest. I wanted Carteay just as much as I had the day she snuck out and left me a Dear John letter talking about saving me or some shit. I wasn’t the one who needed saving. She was. She’d safe worded. As much as it pained me, I had to respect her wishes.
Please don’t come for me. Protect yourself like you protect everyone else.Those were her exact words. No matter how much I wanted to go to Carteay, she’d made her decision. She ran back into the clutches of the people who she’d confided in me had been making her life miserable.
What was I supposed to do?
When I heard a familiar beat drop, my eyes betrayed me by opening just in time for me to see Carrie and Cy on stage all lovey dovey dressed in red. She was absolutely gorgeous. My heart nearly seized up in my chest when she started to sing. She was talking about me in that song. At least that was what I kept telling myself. There was no coincidence that she said you hit me like a cannon.
For weeks, I had been able to avoid hearing her sing. Now I was forced to watch and listen while the man she claimed to hate wrapped his arms around her and felt her up for the world to see.I was disgusted, seeing them holding hands and clinging to each other as if their lives depended on it.
It was good to see her clear eyed and sober. Over time, it had become easier and easier to tell when she was intoxicated. For the past couple of weeks, in every video clip, picture, or post that I saw, my baby looked lucid. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing from her point of view, but I was proud of her for staying in the moment.
The whole time she was with me, I kept her in the moment. I didn’t want her to feel like I was another thing she needed to escape. I laughed to myself when I realized the fact that all I was to her was an escape. Still, the simpleton in me was glad I could even give her that much.
“Man, either go get your girl or stop all that got damn crying and sulking. You around here acting like a little bitch.”
