Then Kégo… Understand every lesbian got that one nigga that could make them sing a different tune. Christian was it for my wife, and Kégo was mine.
The only reason Kégo never made a pass at me was because I worked for his father. If I didn’t make the money I did for Diego, Kégo would’ve had me face down ass up by now, and my pussy-lovin’ ass would’ve thrown back every ounce of ass I had.
Kégo’s mom was a mixed woman, so her genes combined with Diego’s gave them twins that looked like they belonged in a museum.
Their skin had a natural glow, almost gold tinted. Galleria took her bright skin from their mom, but Kégo had a caramel complexion.
Both had eyes that kept my attention on them only and a voice that blocked everyone else out. Galleria took after her mom while Kégo took everything thing from Diego, including his height.
I saw Galleria often, so I became accustomed to her beauty, but fuckin’ Kégo, I could never get used to seeing him.
“Alexis, you’re still beautiful as ever,” Diego said as he headed toward my desk.
I got up and went around to greet them properly. Diego didn’t shake hands. Instead, he gave hugs. I embraced him, and my tiny frame was swallowed. The cologne he wore was unique, and I always knew when he was near. That scent was custom made just for him.
“Thank you, Diego. How was your flight?” I asked.
“It wasn’t too bad. I slept for the three hours it took gettin’ here. This a new warehouse? I remember goin’ to the one across town.”
“Yeah, it is. The other one we use for pickups, drop offs, and meetings. This had more space and with the new investment in vending machines it works to keep the feds off my ass.” I answered him and moved on to Kégo. He stood there with a smile on his face knowin’ I was weak for it.
“Lexi baby, waddup, mami.” He held his arms open, and I did everything but run into his arms. The hug was brief and innocent.
“Wassup, troublemaker. You good?” I asked once I stepped out of his personal space.
“Don’t I look good?” he asked, stretching his arms out wide. He looked more than good. That man was fuckin’ art, in my eyes.? I did a simple nod and gave a genuine smile.
Leading them to the sitting area of my office, I poured them a drink and sat to talk business. What I had planned would eradicate the existence of Gills. I needed my wife back, and as long as he was alive, she wasn’t coming back.
“So, about this problem your wife has. Who is it?” Kégo questioned after throwin’ his drink back.
I pointed to a folder on the table and watched as he opened it. I didn’t know what his response would be, but I was hoping they would take the job.
Journei
Jourdell had been on my mind since I laid eyes on him at the church. Christian knew the details about our relationship, but I didn’t think he understood how I felt when it came to my father. I pissed on myself for fuck’s sake just off him takin’ two petty steps toward me.
I feared that man and didn’t know if I would ever be comfortable in his presence. I had no intentions on bettering shit between us. He caused this distance, so I wasn’t about to put forth any effort in closing it.
Growin’ up, my vitiligo went from one patch to numerous. My mother tried to give me confidence, but my father always tore it down with that one nickname. I hated when he called me “Spot”.
He voiced on many occasions how he would never claim me because he wouldn’t have a child with fucked-up skin. As my father, all I wanted was his love and to be accepted, but he did everything in his power to show everything but that. It was one of the main reasons why I kept men the fuck away.
Now that he was laid up in the hospital with third-degree burns, Christian wanted me to do the Christian thing: forgive him and try to move on.
I wasn’t with none of that shit. I wanted him to die in that fire, then I wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.
His prison sentence gave me room to breathe, but I always knew he wouldn’t be there for life. He was a free man, and the activity he chose to do with his freedom wasn’t on my agenda.
“You did call Hunz and let him know we were on the way, right?” Christian asked.
“No. I never call. I just use my key and walk in,” I answered.
“Mama, you can’t just be walkin’ in people house. And this is different ’cause it’s not just you coming over. Show that man some respect.”
I was drivin’, so I didn’t look his way until we came to a stoplight. “Hunz don’t give a fuck about that. Are we not his best friends, and do we not have a key to his crib individually?” He shook his head as his response, and I continued. “Exactly, so why would I call or knock? He got cameras anyway. They know who it is walkin’ in there.”
“That’s not the point, mama. I’m sure that was given for emergency use only. While you with me, don’t disrespect his sanctum.” Eye contact and stern tone was what he gave. I nodded and let it go. An argument would’ve happened, and I wasn’t havin’ it on this pretty day.
