Blak hit the blunt again. “Nah, I got moves to make. Gotta make sure I get everything I have to do handled, so I can be free Saturday for the engagement dinner.”
Naomi tried not to feel slighted. Blak was correct when he said he wasn’t a slouch. He had money, and he didn’t make money by sitting still all day. However, she didn’t know too many men that would turn down head. Naomi tried not to overreact. She went to her kitchen and grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge. She didn’t really know Blak that well, and he didn’t know her. They had to learn one another and figure out how to coexist in a way that made sense for the both of them. She didn’t necessarily expect him to be faithful or to be one hundred percent committed to their union right away. It would take time.
But arranged marriage or not, she refused to live like her mother. Her parents had been married for thirty-six years, and the number of times her mother had to turn a blind eye to her father’s infidelities was insane. They were filthy rich, but not even that was worth all he’d put his wife through. Secretly, Naomi had to wonder just how many times her mother had gotten her lick back. The one time she got caught messing around with a personal trainer, her father broke her mother’s nose and bruised her ribs. The fact that she didn’t leave after that sickened Naomi. But what could she do?
That incident occurred when Naomi was seventeen. She didn’t speak to her father for six months but like her mother,she was financially dependent on him. Naomi loved fashion and used her father’s connections to get clients. She started off styling the girlfriends and wives of athletes, rappers, etc. then she started styling famous people. Naomi worked as a stylist for three years before the life caught up with her. In the process of working, she became the side chick of a millionaire record label executive, and she began to party a little too hard. It began to leave a bad taste in people’s mouths when she would show up late for appointments, forget things they told her and at times, flake all together.
Naomi decided to take a step back from styling, and she went back to being a spoiled princess living off her father’s dime. Naomi only dealt with men of a certain caliber, so any man that she entertained paid like he weighed. The last guy she dealt with before her father made her aware that she’d be marrying Blak gave her $100,000 to put down on a condo in LA. Little did he know, she already had a condo in LA, and it was paid for. The $100,000 went straight into her bank account.
Naomi sat at her kitchen island sipping wine. Her thoughts ran rampant for a bit until she decided to plan her honeymoon. One thing she loved to do was spend money. She was going to plan an extravagant seven-day honeymoon that would have the girls on social media gagging. Just like that, her spirits were lifted.
Blak was in his car in a completely different mood. He didn’t know what to do. Being impulsive had him in a world of trouble. He needed to talk to a few people. Block being one of them, but he went to Averi’s house first. He hadn’t spoken to her since he left her house the day before. He had no clue when she was going to get the abortion. He texted her earlier, and she didn’t respond. If his uncle was there, he’d tell Blak to slow his ass down and think. Tech despised a person acting off impulse or emotions.He was a calculated thinker and had instilled in his nephew and sons to be the same way.
Blak had another uncle, Nine. Nine had been in prison for the past three years for murder. Before he went in, he wasn’t as calculated as his brother. Nine was the true definition of crash out which was why he was in prison for murder. He would shoot first and ask questions never. The only really valuable things Blak learned from him were how to fight and how to shoot.
Blak’s mother was Tech’s sister. Blak’s father was some weird ass nigga that lived in West Bubble Fuck, Idaho or some shit and lived off the grid. The last time Blak saw him, he was thirteen. His father didn’t eat meat and followed mostly a raw food diet. Blak didn’t think that was weird. He didn’t even think it was weird that his father made his own toothpaste, deodorant, etc. but being against cell phones and living in an RV in the middle of nowhere and existing like a damn cave man didn’t sit well with Blak. His father could have that shit. He had his uncles anyway. Blak’s parents met when they were in their early twenties. His mother was on her holistic journey at the time, and she and Nate hit it off. She was all for eating clean, drinking herbal tea, and limiting her use of products with toxins in them, but living in an RV and going off the grid was too much for her. They went their separate ways when Blak was four.
Nate wasn’t really traditional. He lived a very basic and simple life, and he didn’t have to work too hard to maintain that. He expected the mother of his child and their son to live the same way, and Tech nor his sister were having it. Tech spoiled Blak the same way he spoiled his own sons and picked up the slack of his absentee father.
When he arrived at Averi’s house, Blak peeped that her car was there, but he wasn’t sure she’d open the door for him. He rang the bell anyway. To his surprise, she opened the door with a scowl on her face. Before she turned to walk away, hepeeped that she looked weak and pale. He wondered if she was experiencing morning sickness or if she’d gone through with the abortion.
Averi lay on the couch. Blak walked over, lifted her legs, sat down, and put her feet in his lap.
“Who said you could touch me?” she asked with him straight up attitude.
“I don’t want to get married, Averi. I have to talk to my uncle first. This is going to piss a lot of people off but fuck it. I choose you.”
With slightly parted lips, Averi sat up. “For real?” she asked skeptically. “It’s that easy to back out?”
Blak chortled and ran a hand down his face. “Fuck nah, it won’t be easy. I just said a lot of people will probably be pissed off. My uncle included, but this is my life. If you won’t deal with me if I’m married to her, then she gotta go.”
It had been a minute since she’d looked at him without disgust on her face and hatred in her eyes. As she stared at him, Blak saw worry. “But what if you can’t. Like, will they kill you or something? If it’s going to cause problems, then I don’t want you to back out. It’s not worth it.” She didn’t know how that kind of situation worked, but she didn’t want Blak hurt.
“Did you get an abortion?”
“I just found out I was pregnant yesterday, Blak. I don’t think it works that fast. I haven’t even called and made the appointment yet.” She looked off to the side, and he could tell she was conflicted.
Blak grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him. “I still can’t tell you what to do, but I’m hoping you’ll decide to keep it. I’m trying to get out of this shit. I’m going to make an appointment to go visit my uncle. Just hold on. Please.”
Averi laid her head on his chest. Finally, she wasn’t treating him like public enemy number one. Blak placed a kiss on hertemple. “I just wanted to check on you. I gotta make some moves. You need anything?”
“No, I don’t need anything.” Averi sat up.
“You sure?” Blak’s eyes darted back and forth across her face. He had officially turned into a sucka for a female for the first time ever in his life.
“I’m sure, Blak.”
He sat up and placed a soft kiss on her lips. “Call me if you need me.”
“Okay.”
In the car, Blak texted Block to see where he was. Once he got a response, he headed in that direction. Block would more than likely tell him that backing out of the deal was bad for business. He already knew he wasn’t built for that shit, and he never would have agreed to it. Blak had always been a man of his word, but none of that would matter if he tried to back out of marrying Naomi. The average person would feel like Averi should accept shit for what it was and just play the background. He couldn’t be mad at her for having standards and morals and shit. She didn’t want to be a side chick, and he could only respect it.
Blak pulled up on his cousin at one of their favorite soul food restaurants. He found Block inside demolishing fried chicken, potato salad, collards, ribs, and hush puppies.
“Got damn, nigga. Hungry?”
Block stuck his middle finger up and kept eating. It was the first day he’d been able to really eat like he wanted without smoking weed. Block found that the pills he took mixed with weed made him slow as hell and sluggish, and he didn’t like it. He had some drank waiting since his man had gotten in a new supply. Block knew that smoking weed didn’t mix well with pills or ‘drank’, so he opted not to smoke for a few days. And since he’d just recovered from pneumonia, he was still trying to give his lungs a break. Not being able to breathe and having chestpains was no joke. It made him second guess all the years he’d filled his lungs with smoke.
