No, I want you to back the fuck away from me…Irish didn’t let her thoughts out of her head. She didn’t know what this man was capable of.
“So, what’s up with you and him?” He sipped on his drink. “You fucking that nigga?”
She shook her head.
“You ain't gotta lie to me, love. That old nigga hittin’ that shit, ain't he?”
Again, Irish shook her head.
“Yeah, a’ight,” he quipped with doubt. “Fuck that nigga. I’m trying to take you home.” He touched her exposed thigh, prompting chills to burgeon on her arms.
Leaning back, Irish placed some distance between them. “I can’t.”
“Why? You scared?” He dug inside his pocket and pulled out a bankroll of money. “I’m a generous man. Tell me the price and I got you.”
He flicked through bills, bypassing several hundred-dollar bills. Irish suddenly hated money. It represented all the evil that consumed people. People sold their bodies and traded their souls for money. Irish’s young mind knew it was a necessity to have. Nonetheless, she hated the thought of money and how it turned people away from their morals and integrity.
“How much for a piece of that young pussy?”
“I’m a virgin,” she blurted out.
His eyes grew wide before a grin surfaced on his lips. “Word. Shit, I’ll pay you extra for that virgin pussy.”
“No, I can’t.” She shook her head.
“Come on, Tisha,” he begged with urgency, leaning close to her. “Let me feel it.”
Twan placed his hands between her thighs before forcing a kiss on her lips.
“Get off of me!” she yelled.
“Bitch, let me feel you.”
Irish punched him in the groin, immediately removing his hands from between her thighs. He groaned in agony as she kicked him out of the booth.
“Damn, what you do, girl?” an older man asked, looking at Twan on the ground.
Irish quickly jumped over a groaning Twan and headed for the door.
“Aye, Irish!” Emanuel yelled.
Irish picked up the pace and sprinted out of the establishment. Her ankle almost rolled in her heels, but she was determined to leave. Not knowing where she was, she began running until she reached a busy street. All she had was five dollars on her and a pack of gum.
“Shit,” she whispered, running toward the bus stop. When she arrived, she paced back and forth. Looking around, paranoia camped out inside her body, hoping Emanuel wouldn’t emerge. Daisy was more than likely to reprimand her for leaving but after being sexually assaulted, she couldn’t bear to play the role of seducing men.
“Yes,” she quietly celebrated when she spotted the bus. Irish had no idea where the bus was headed to, and she didn’t care. As long as she was far away from the underground casino and all the predators that roamed it.
Irish sat on the toilet, loathing how her recollections were so vivid. No matter how much she prayed her awful memories away, they surfaced without warning and without greeting. Looking down at her hands, she shook her head. Life had already been chaotic for her, but these recent developments took the cake. She got up, tossed the trash in the garbage, thenwashed her hands. Looking in the mirror, Irish noticed her eyes were deadpan. Sunshine hadn’t made an appearance in her life anymore. Just gray skies and rain. It was so much rain, she felt like she was drowning on the inside.
Noble still hadn’t left her system. Irish felt like she had been going through withdrawals for the last three months; feeling ill one day then crying the next. Jovanis had been in and out, trying to keep her mind off her lovesick state, but he couldn’t compare. No amount of shopping, eating, or quality time with him made up for the void that was now in her life.
“Fuck this.”
Irish turned on the shower and covered her silk wrap with a shower cap. For years, she had thrown her own desires to the wasteland in order to be present for others. Years of selflessly putting people first had drained her dry. Irish couldn’t take it anymore. She needed her person. The one that made her heart leap with glee and her lips stretch into the biggest smile. In the past, she worried about hurting others, but Irish didn’t give a fuck. She was in her Tupac era. Fuck the world was Irish’s new motto.
Getting in the shower, she immediately beamed. What she was about to do would either make or break her spirit. She prayed for the former. Jovanis would be upset. People in her life would probably look at her with scowls of judgement. Still, Irish was in need, and she didn’t give a damn what people had to say. Noble was hers, and she refused to go anymore days without her heart inside her chest.
Ten
