“Go home, Ishmael.”
Her voice appeared on the line almost instantly. The pain in my chest thickened. Sadness sat between each syllable she released. So did strength.
“I’m at home, my baby. I just need you to let me in.”
Silence constricted my heart.
“Royce.”
“Goodnight.”
The line died. So did something inside of me. The disappointment in her tone was devastating. I needed to repair what I’d broken. I needed to bring peace to the war I’d caused inside of her.
I shoved my cell in my pocket. The bouquet of flowers in my hand was restricting. I set them next to her door.
Suit yourself, my baby.
The edges of the hoodie I wore were last to climb over my head. I wrapped the fabric around my knuckles as I observed the lovely front door before destroying its beauty.
WHAM.
I launched my fist into the fourth square of glass, shattering it on contact. The hoodie slid from my skin with ease. I stuck my hand inside of Royce’s home and twisted the lock on the handle. The door opened with ease.
Commiseration forced me inside. As quickly as I’d entered, I remembered I was leaving so much behind. I exited.
The bouquet of flowers rested on my arm. The large Hermès dangled from my hand. With my right foot, I closed the door behind me. Pausing briefly, I twisted the small button on the knob to lock it.
As if I’d stalked her floors a hundred times, I widened the distance between me and the door. Warmth engulfed me. The smell of well-seasoned food lured me through the foyer.
Beige.
Brown.
Black.
Gold.
I took note of every aspect of Royce’s residence. The study was the first room I approached. Directly across the hall was another room, one filled with packages, mail, and shelves to keep them in order.
The room next to the study connected by a sliding door. Books lined shelves that filled nearly every inch of the cases.
Her library.
On the other side, just feet away from the mail room was a stair stepper, treadmill, ab cruncher, weights, pilates machine, spin bike, and a television that nearly filled every inch of the wallit was on. Mirrors lined the back walls. A water station hid in the corner.
Go Girl.was scribed in swirly letters on the wall, lined with a strip of light that was a golden white. Around it, in different spots, were affirmations that would surely keep her moving during sessions.
Her gym.
A long stretch of hallway and a single left turn led me to the openness of her home. Two sets of stairs raced to the second floor. Beyond the stairs was more footage, free of furniture. And, beyond the stretch was the dining area. A table for twelve was perfectly centered with chocolate chairs surrounding it.
There was a plate setting in front of each. Yet, only one chair was occupied. The head of the table, closest to the dining room wall.
There goes my baby.
Fear and fascination gripped me simultaneously. I released my frustrations and embraced whatever was to come of my intrusion. Silently, I asked God to keep her finger off that fucking trigger. But, should she decide to send another hot one through my ass, I’d be back at her front door as soon as they patched me up.
Just like tonight.
