As she watched him walk away, Symphony made the decision to worry about later, later. She would push her mother’s gambling addiction to the back of her mind and enjoy the time she was spending with Block. Symphony had spent too much time worrying about everyone else. It was time to focus on herself. Everyone else got to be carefree and irresponsible while letting other people pick up the pieces. It was time for her to beselfish. Mason was different because he was a minor. She would do whatever she could for him but as for adults, Symphony was done giving a fuck.
Blak was trying his hardest to act normal, but it was hard. Earlier when he went to Averi’s home, Blak could have sworn he was being followed. He took a detour and lost the car that was following him, if it was really following him. He wasn’t sure if he was just being paranoid, or if there really were eyes on him. His visit with his uncle was the next day and unfortunately, he was still attending the engagement party that Naomi’s father was throwing them. Blak didn’t want to go through with the marriage, but he wasn’t telling Naomi that until he spoke with his uncle.
Blak wanted to be up front with Averi about everything, so he was taking her to lunch to tell her about the engagement dinner. If she got mad at him that’s just what it was. He was doing what he could at the moment to ensure that his uncle didn’t suffer for his actions. He was in love with Averi, but he loved his uncle more.
“You good?” Averi bit into a flavorful, fried, prawn.
“Not really,” Blak mumbled. He stared at his untouched plate for a moment before looking at Averi. “My visit with my uncle is tomorrow. Until I talk to him, I have to keep my word. I can’t back out on the engagement dinner that Naomi’s people are throwing for us tonight.” Blak waited for Averi’s head to start spinning with bated breath. He knew she was going to be pissed.
Her shoulder lifted slightly. “Okay, so go to the engagement dinner.”
Blak stared at her blankly. Just when he thought he had her figured out, she threw him for a loop. Averi noticed his shock and decided to tell him how she really felt.
“I don’t know about all this shit. Arranged marriages to drug dealers’ daughters and all that. I just have to assume that this man is powerful. You made a deal and if backing out of it will cause you to be hurt, then marry her.” Averi swallowed down a lump, and Blak could tell that was hard for her to say.
“Baby, listen to me. I don’t want to marry her. If I have to, that’s all it will be. Some shit that’s arranged. I won’t have sex with her. I promise you. I was out of pocket for not pulling out, but one thing I’d never do is make a child and not be there. She can’t keep me from you. Her father can’t either. I put that on everything I love.”
Averi picked up another prawn and bit into it. Some days, she hated Blak and some days, she was almost thankful for what he did. With each passing birthday, she realized that she was another year older without being married and with child. Who said a person had to be married to have kids? She could afford a child, and Blak could afford one for sure. Even if they were never together as a couple, she trusted they’d be able to co-parent. Under normal circumstances, she’d never be a side chick. But if Blak was looking her in the eyes telling her he didn’t want to be with Naomi, was she a fool to believe him? Maybe she was, but what was done was done. She was already pregnant, and Averi couldn’t bring herself to have an abortion.
“I hear you.” Her tone was indifferent. She really wanted to be unbothered, and some days, she was.
Averi had only thrown up once, but she was so exhausted, there were days she literally couldn’t care about Blak’s impending nuptials if she tried. All she wanted to do was sleep. Thank God, she worked from home ninety-five percent of the time. Even when she had meetings, they were rarely at theheadquarters of her job. When they had group meetings outside of Zoom, they usually chose coffee shops, unless a conference room was needed.
The moment she got done with her work, Averi was asleep. After a nap that usually lasted at least two hours, she’d get up, eat, run errands, take a shower, and get right back in bed. She took prenatal vitamins, tried to eat healthy, and stayed hydrated. At that point, Averi would pay money for energy, but she had none. Some days, her breasts were so sore it hurt to move. She prayed that the fatigue and sore breasts would end well before her second trimester. She couldn’t take it.
“I can show you better than I can tell you,” Blak promised. “At the time I was just thinking about the money I could get. The perks that came with being locked in with someone of Naomi’s father’s caliber. Before he went away, my uncle was that nigga, but he’s been gone for twelve years damn near. Things changed. The game changed. This was a way we could both be good. And I’m about to fuck it up.”
Averi hated that she was starting to feel guilty about not wanting to be a mistress. Blak put her in a messed up predicament. Even if the marriage was business. Even if it didn’t keep him away from her and their child, he still couldn’t fully be hers. He couldn’t be there every single night with her and their child if he wasn’t let off the hook with marrying Naomi. She was essentially bringing her child into a bunch of chaos and dysfunction. Tears burned her eyes as she thought about her child one day knowing that she was a side chick. Of course, it was a little deeper than that, but the specifics didn’t matter.
They finished their food and Blak paid the tab. The itis had kicked in something terrible. All Averi wanted was her bed. She wouldn’t be worried about Blak’s engagement dinner because she was going to be snoring and drooling. When she did wake up, it would be to pee, grab a snack, and get right back in thebed. All the women she knew that slayed their entire pregnancy, worked, was still on the scene, etc. she gave them the utmost respect because she couldn’t do it. Averi was so sleepy, she was thinking about taking a nap in the car. That was how bad it was.
“That ass getting fat as hell, mama. You not even showing yet,” Blak marveled from behind her. “You got my dick hard. I’m dead ass about to say fuck that dinner.” He reached out and pushed the door open even though she was in front of him.
Averi shook her head. “You’d be better off going to the dinner because if not, you’re going to be getting it while I’m asleep.”
Blak didn’t speak until they reached his car. Rather than opening the door for her, he pinned her against the vehicle. His erect member poked her as he peered into her eyes. “As long as I have your consent, I’ll tear that ass up with no fucks given about you being asleep.”
“That’s really sad,” Averi laughed. Blak stared at her for a few moments before placing four quick pecks on her lips.
He stepped back, so she could move off the door, and he could open it. As the door opened, Averi fell into him. Confused, Blak peered down at her, and her eyes were wide with fear and shock.
“Baby, what’s wrong?” Blak’s orbs quickly darted around the vicinity, and he saw the same black car that had been following him speeding off. “Averi, what’s wrong?” he started to panic as he looked over her body.
“My back. It burns.”
Blak looked and sure enough, her shirt was stained with blood. She’d been shot and whoever did it had used a gun with a silencer and had the aim of a sniper. With rage coursing through his veins and fear making his chest tight, Blak got her in the car. She was trembling, but she wasn’t crying or making any kind of noise. The color had drained from her face, and she appeared terrified.
Blak ran red lights and damn near wrecked twice trying to get her to the nearest hospital. By the time he arrived, she was still conscious, but her lips were blue. Averi didn’t look good at all. If James was behind her being shot. If Averi died. If she lost their baby. Blak was going to paint the city red with no fucks given about the consequences.
CHAPTER TWELVE
When Tech satdown at the table in the visitation room, he instantly knew something was wrong. Blak’s eyes were so red, he was surprised they let his nephew inside the prison. He didn’t smell like weed or alcohol, but he either had to be high, exhausted, or he’d just got done crying his eyes out.
“What’s good, nephew?” Tech prepared himself for bad news. As weary as Blak looked, there was no way anything good was about to be coming from his lips.
“I fucked up. I fucked up real bad. Blame this shit on me. It’s my fault. Shit is about to hit the fan. I might not make it out alive, and I don’t even care.”
Tech frowned from confusion. “Nephew you’re saying a lot, but you’re not really saying anything. What’s up?”
