One
Irish had never experienced a fear quite like this. She’d been coasting through life, not feeling the dread that once consumed her up until now. Jovanis was mad… in fact, he was incensed. He glared at her with eyes which showcased the darkness that resided inside him. His jaw was clenched as his grip on her collar tightened. Irish parted her lips, ready to confess her betrayal but her words stalled. They actually evaporated in her mind because confessing that she had fallen in love with his general was too frightening to reveal.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he scolded through clenched teeth.
Irish’s chest inflated then deflated at a rapid rate. “Get your hands off of me.”
Jovanis angled his head; his nostrils flared as his grip intensified. “You think this shit is a game? Do you think I won’t handle you how I handle these niggas in the streets?”
Irish muffed his face with her open palm. That only enraged him more. She needed to place some distance between them. Jovanis was no good in this state. Right now, he didn’t have a sound mind and because of that, Irish didn’t want him anywhere near her.
“Get the fuck off of me!” she screamed.
“I ain't doing shit until you tell me what I know ain't true. Tell me you ain't fuckin’ Noble.”
Irish could’ve easily gotten out of this by lying. She could’ve denied that she had fallen so deeply in love with Noble that his residence was inside her heart. She could’ve lied about all their meetings, deep talks, and spellbinding sex sessions just to appease Jovanis. Yet, Irish couldn’t do it. She had given so much of her life and loyalty to Jovanis that this time, she wouldn’t deny herself of the man she needed.
“…It’s true,” she muttered, swallowing hard.
The hands on the clock came to a standstill. Her breathing paused as she peered at the bewildered expression on Jovanis’ face. He was stunned and angry. She knew him well enough to spot the emotions plaguing him.
“You fucking that nigga for real?” he questioned just above a whisper.
Devastation suddenly inhabited him, yet he didn’t loosen his grip. “You got me fucked up!” He pushed her into the wall, inciting a yelp.
“Get off of me!” she bellowed.
“Out of all the niggas! You really fucking around with him!” he yelled. “You gon’ disrespect me like that, Irish! I thought we were better than that!”
“Fuck you!” She clawed at his face.
“Oh, hell no!” She heard a voice.
Within minutes, an arm snaked around Jovanis’ neck. “Get the fuck off my sister!”
Irish had never been so relieved to see Ivory. She repeatedly struck Jovanis in the back of his head while Irish muffed his face again. Within seconds, he released her as Irish ran into the living room. Jovanis slung Ivory off his back and stalked after her.
“This what you’ve been doing behind my back? You got that mothafucka sending shit to my house? Fucking disrespecting me!”
Irish jumped behind the couch, hoping that would’ve been enough to stop him. She was so distracted by Jovanis’ pursuit of her that she didn’t notice Ivory come out of the kitchen, holding a butcher knife.
“You touch my sister again and I’m going to slice you the fuck up!” Ivory declared.
Jovanis glared at her before his seething gaze landed on Irish. “You ain't shit, Irish!”
“Excuse me!” Her eyes ballooned. “After all the shit I’ve done for you, you're going to fix your lips to tell me that?”
He shook his head, pinching his bottom lip in deep thought. “You told that nigga my business?”
“What the fuck is going on?” Ivory questioned, looking at Irish then Jovanis.
Irish nibbled on her bottom lip, knowing exactly what he was referring to. How could she reveal that Noble already knew of his sexuality? It would kill Jovanis, and Irish knew that.
“Did you?”
Her gazed descended since she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. “…He already knew.”
Quickly, they locked eyes before Jovanis flipped the table. Ivory let out a scream as Irish cowered in the corner. In pure terror, they watched him destroy the entire living room. Couches were tossed, picture frames broken, while glass scattered across the shiny hardwood floors.
