Nyair nodded. “I should. I got some soul searching to do for the indulging I just participated in. Got to go have some talks with Big Homie, clear my mind, get on my knees and find some answers, but when I get them, I’ma be back for you, Lauren.”
Lauren’s shaky breaths revealed her emotions. She was overwhelmed but so sure of what she felt.
“When you spin the block, I’ma be ready next time.”
He kissed her lips again then turned to leave. He was halfway across the room before he doubled back. This time he kissed her deeper. “In case that talk I gotta have end in a way that don’t allow me to come back here.”
“Bye, Ny,” Lauren whispered.
He nodded, and Lauren pushed out a sharp breath of angst before walking him to the door.
“Lock up,” he said before departing.
Lauren shook her head and turned toward the staircase. She would need to address this tonight. It couldn’t wait until morning, and it couldn’t wait for Demi. She walked upstairs and opened DJ’s door to find his bed empty.
“DJ?” She called, going to the attached bathroom, where the light shined underneath the door.
She knocked softly. “Hey, bud, can we talk?”
When she pushed open the door and found her son sitting in a pool of his blood, she panicked.
“I’m sorry, Ma, I think I cut it too deep this time.” The words,this time,cut through her psyche like a machete clearing trees in a dense brush. The crowded jungle her mind had become was leveled instantly by this scene. He had done this before. This was not the first time. Oh, the pain her child must be in to self-mutilate in this way.
“Oh my god!” She shouted. “Why would you do this to yourself, DJ? What did you do?” His arm was leaking blood, and she rushed to the linen closet, pulling out a towel and wrapping it tightly around his forearm. For the first time, she noticed scabs from previous cuts, recent injuries that weren’t completely healed.
“I’m sorry, Ma,” DJ cried.
“Oh my baby, it’s okay,” she said, trying not to reveal her panic. “It’s okay. I need you to hold this tight, okay? This is deep; I need to get you to the hospital.”
The towel soaked through in under a minute, and Lauren grabbed two more as she guided her son through the house and to her car. A trail of blood followed them, staining the snow and destroying the interior of her car. She wrapped another towel around his arm. “Tighter, baby. Hold it tighter.”
She rushed around to the driver’s side and pulled out of the driveway like a madwoman.
“This is all my fault,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, DJ. Just keep holding it tight.” Lauren had one had on the steering wheel and the other she used to squeeze the bloody towel. “Tighter baby. As tight as you can.” There was so much blood. She was terrified at the thought of him self-inflicting this kind of pain.
Lauren didn’t even know how they had gotten to this point. Her son had been cutting himself, and she hadn’t known. Demi hadn’t known. Their hurt had infected their child and she felt like a shitty mother for not recognizing the signs. She had hit a new low and felt the descent in a bruising way. She could handle her own depression. She could manage that, hide it even, but to be the cause of her son’s turmoil was a different burden to bear. She just prayed that she got the chance to make it right.
Chapter 18
The power of a woman, this woman, was willful in a way that controlled Demi’s emotions, and he hated it, but it was the reason he worshipped her.
“Tell me more,” he said, rubbing Charlie’s lower back as he ate her pussy from the back.
“I can’t remember what I want to say when you’re doing that, Demi,” she moaned. A midnight snack. She was his favorite, one he indulged in almost every night. “Yes, Demi, keep…” she whined as he took hold of her flesh and conquered it, crushing her button between pressed lips then moving his head side to side. “…keep doing that!” She came, and the sweetest icing coated his lips. They had already made love. Demi was already satisfied, but Bird was spoiled. This second helping was hers to enjoy alone.
“I’ll be right back,” he said. He spent five minutes washing his face and getting the taste of her off his tongue. Her sweetness still lingered in his mind, notes of her still living in his mouth. He didn’t know if it was an addiction that allowed him to taste her throughout his day or if he actually couldn’t get rid of her flavor, but it kept him spellbound to her. Charlie, with her sage, and her crystals, had to have bewitched him. No other woman could ever have her way with him the way Charlie did.
When he emerged, she had changed out the sheets, and a fresh, clean bed was awaiting him.
His body covered the length of the bed. Her personal pillow, Charlie nestled against him. Arm behind her body, her thigh over his torso. He wouldn’t move until she was asleep.
“Tell me, Bird,” he said.
“I’m afraid to have your baby,” she admitted.
His eyes were on the ceiling, his voice trapped as he tried to find a less dominant way to approach his response.
“Are you afraid of me?” He asked.
