“You good?” Heavy faced Prischa but caught Giselle flinging her empty cup into a nearby trashcan while stomping away.
“Yeah. You didn’t have to do that. You know I got tough skin.” Prischa laughed it off, but it wasn’t convincing.
Giselle had struck several chords, and she hated that she was so easy to read. This girl didn’t know her or Heavy but was able to pick apart their situation off one observation.
“Nobody should be talking to you like that. Especially her.” His brows drew together pensively.
“I approached her. She immediately got defensive. I just wanted her to know who I was and what you mean to me. She took it somewhere else. It’s obvious she’s been drinking. I think we both might have struck a nerve.”
Sighing, Heavy shook his head and stroked his beard.
“It doesn’t matter, aight. You know you’re like family to me.”
“I know.” Prischa’s gaze drifted to the ground. “Sometimes it seems like we’re on the same page with that. When me, you, and Pierre are together, it’s fun, and I can see it being somethingmore. I think the reason you don’t want to get too close is because of Big P.”
Heavy froze, hands in his pockets, heart thudding against his ribcage at the mention of his best friend. That wound was still fresh for him, and it had been four years. Big P getting hit the way he did had the whole city hurting for a long time. He was Heavy’s mentor and big homie when his father got locked away. Pierre Sr. took him under his wing and taught him the game.
Hustling was something that came easily to Heavy. He was able to fly through his packs and reup like clockwork, stacking his paper to put money on his father’s books and expand the family business. The shop on 25thwas just their first building. There were five more scattered across the state of Kansas and five auto surplus stores. It was the equivalent to O’Reilly or Auto Zone around these parts.
They offered body repair, estimates, tune ups, and everything on site at their surplus store, and there was a custom executive style lounge at those locations where the customer could wait while their car was worked on if they chose to. Without Pierre, he wouldn’t have been able to stack the bread to expand, so naturally he felt like he owed him to look out for his girl and his seed when he was gone.
Heavy never intended to fuck Prischa. For him, that was a betrayal, even with Pierre six feet under. Not only that, but he realized that while he loved her, it wasn’t in the same way she loved him. He fucked up crossing that line because now Prischa was in even deeper and couldn’t grasp a relationship with another man because Heavy had fucked it up for all of them. What he did for her and Lil P was effortless. Man shit. He never threw it in her face and rarely got mad at her.
“That’s part of it,” Heavy agreed. “The other part is, you deserve somebody that’s devoted to you, Pri. You got a lot of shit going for you that any man would be lucky to have. I don’t thinkI can ever shake you being Pierre’s girl, though, and the shit feels disrespectful to him and his memory.”
“He’s gone, Heavy. You think he wouldn’t approve? You were his best friend.”
“And I know how he felt about you. More than anybody,” Heavy pointed out. “Shit don’t feel right. I can be there for you and Lil P, but you gotta figure out a way to get over this. Not for me, but for you. I don’t want you putting your life on hold, thinking me and you are ever gon’ be something. If I gave you that impression?—”
“You gave me that impression when you fucked me, Heavy!’ she hissed, tears stinging her gorgeous brown globes.
“Pri…” He tried to reach for her.
“No!” She flinched and backed up. “There’s nothing else to say,” she whispered with an inward shrug. “Like you said… I have to figure out a way to get over this.”
Watching her run off upset had him rethinking his words.
Had he meant them?He knew he didn’t want to lose Pri and their friendship. When he wanted to kick it and watch movies or needed a home cooked meal, it was nothing for him to pull up on her and spend all day or night with her. Maybe he had given her the notion that eventually it would lead to more if she hung in there. Swiping his beard, he thought about going after her when someone bumped him from behind.
“My nigga. The fuck you doing being in the middle of the drama!” Crew threw his arm over his shoulder and pulled him closer.
The nigga smelled like a bad ass kid who had been playing outside all day with a touch of his cologne, weed, and liquor also lingering. Behind him, Maisie picked up a plate, clothes still damp from their water war as she decided on sweet potato pie and a slice of yellow cake with chocolate icing.
“And what did we miss?” Maisie brought the cake to her mouth and took a bite.
“Ask your cousin,” Heavy told her before walking off.
“Lord. Giselle.” Maisie shook her head.
“Um… brother, what exactly is going on?” Henna fell in stride with Heavy, making his way down the block back to his car.
He’d damn sure had enough of people today. He wanted to swing by the shop and work on this car he had to get ready and then head home. Prischa might have been his best friend, but Henna was his partner from the womb. She knew what he was thinking and could pick up on his feelings even when he didn’t speak. When they were kids, and he was sick or in pain, Henna was always perceptive of that.
“Stay out of it.”
“Um, excuse you. Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m your twin, and I catch all the little leftover vibes that you let linger. So, you might as well tell me. I know that Prischa is in love with you. I know you don’t feel the same way for your own reasons. I just think maybe you should give it a chance.”
“I’m not talking to you about this.” Heavy scowled.
