"I did not read your damn daddy, Noles. I would've told you if I did." He looked unconvinced, so I added, loud and clear, "Just know it isn't him." I waved him off. "And crazy as your damn mama is, you really think I wanna read him? Why would I take on that headache?" I said, making him break into a laugh.
"They told me Mama showed her ass at that hospital when she found out about us being married," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I was all kind of evil witch bitches," I giggled, sipping my drink. "What's up with her though? She really don't like me forreal," I said, slurring just a touch. "Mama don't like nobody," he said, smacking his lips.
He leaned back, stretching his legs out, eyes dragging slowly over me like he was seeing me for the first time tonight. Something thick shifted in the room. His eyes dipped to my thighs, slow and heavy. Then up to my lips. Then back to my chest. And my whole body heated under the weight of it. He licked his bottom lip, voice dropping low. "You drunk yet?" I swallowed, heat curling in my belly. "Little bit," I whispered.
He leaned forward, eyes locked on mine like he could see straight through my spirit. "Come here, Yiyi," he murmured, arms open, voice low enough to drag heat down my spine. I took one slow sip from my glass, letting the liquor burn the back of my throat, then sat it down. My eyes never left his. I crawled toward him across the thick rug, my heartbeat thudding in my ears, my thighs warm, every inch of me tuned to the way he watched me. His gaze followed my movements like he was studying me. When I reached him, he didn't wait. He leaned down, grabbed me around the neck with that warm, heavy hand of his, and pulled me straight into him, his grip firm enough to tell me exactly where he wanted me.
His lips brushed mine first, soft for a split second.
Then he licked across my bottom lip slow, claiming the whole moment with one motion. My mouth opened on instinct. He pushed his tongue inside, kissing me deep and hungry, like he'd been starving for me and finally had the nerve to admit it. The kind of kiss that made my breath catch and my hips movewithout my permission, my body remembering the rhythm of him even when my mind was still catching up.
I melted before I could stop myself. He pulled me closer, breath mixing with mine, hands sliding down my waist as he leaned back. My body followed like it was tied to his by string. Before I even realized what happened, I was straddling him. one knee on each side of his thighs, my palms flat against his chest. Our mouths stayed locked, our breaths tangled, the liquor and desire blending between our lips. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me down against him until I could feel every inch of how ready he was for me.
Noles
I stood leaned against the entrance of the bedroom, shoulders pressed to the frame, arms folded across my chest, watching Ayida toss and turn in her sleep like the bed was a battlefield she couldn't escape. It was damn near three a.m. I'd been up since one-thirty. I had showered and was up pacin around the house and still couldn't breathe right. My chest was still damp from the shower, sweat drying over it from another one of the bullshit as dreams I'd been havin. I'd woken up out of a cold ass sweat. I kept wiping my palms on my basketball shorts, but the damp just came back.
I didn't get back in the bed when I woke up. Couldn't. Not when my hand shot straight under my pillow and came back gripping my gun like it was stitched to my damn hand. Not when my heart was beating like somebody was standing over me with the barrel pressed between my eyes. Not when I swore I heard low calm voices whisperin out to me in the dark. So I got up, showered, sat on the bathroom counter in the dark, and stared at nothing for a long time. But now I was staring at her.
Ayida's eyes twitched under her lids. Her breaths came short and uneven, like she was running somewhere I couldn't reach. Her frown changed with every toss and turn. Sometimes she whimpered. Sometimes she mumbled shit I couldn't make out. Sometimes she groaned from deep in her chest like she was fightin somethin.
It fucked with me. More than I wanted to admit. Because she ain't used to sleep like this. I could feel the pull in the air around her that she wasn't dreamin bout no fuckin roses and rainbows. Somethin was touchin her sleep. I unfolded myarms and stepped forward, slow, quiet, the boards under my feet creakin like the house was breathin with me. I sat on the edge of the bed, elbows restin on my knees, hands hangin between them, eyes never leavin her face. Her hair was scattered across the pillow, the ends stickin to her cheek from sweat. Her blankets were kicked to the floor. Her hand opened and closed like she was grabbin for something in the dark. "Yiyi," I whispered, voice low. She twitched but didn't wake up.
My jaw tightened. I leaned back up, stood, and walked to the window. Pulled the blinds up an inch with two fingers. The street was empty. Dark. Quiet. No cars. No footsteps. No lights except that busted streetlamp across the road blinking like it wasn't sure if it wanted to stay alive. I let the blind drop back down and ran a hand over my head. This wasn't who I used to be. I used to sleep deep. Used to laugh in my dreams. Used to wake up easy. Used to leave the bed in the middle of the night just to grab Ayida a cold drank or turn on a fan because she was too hot. Now I woke up grippin a gun and lookin for threats and every noise made my blood spike.
I felt somethin, I don't know, a spirit, whatever the hell followed me back, sitting in the dark like it owned a seat at my table. And Ayida , my sweet, stubborn, spiritual woman , she felt it too. Even if she didn't say it out loud. I walked back to the bed and leaned over her. Brushed a stray coil of hair off her forehead with my knuckles. She flinched and sucked in a sharp breath. "Baeebbyyy," I murmured. "Wake up fa me,"
Her eyes jerked open, wide and startled. She gasped like she'd been held underwater. For a second she didn't see me. Her eyes darted around like she was still inside whatever dream had her trapped. Then finally, her gaze locked onto mine. "Noles. " she breathed, her hand reachin for me without her even thinkin.I grabbed her hand gently and squeezed. "You good?" She swallowed hard, noddin, but her hand was shakin in mine. "I'm fine," she whispered. But her voice said the opposite. "Fine my ass," I muttered, starin dead at her. "How long that been goin' on?" She stared back, face blank as hell, eyes wide and tired. No answer. No excuse. "I'm waitin' for an answer, Ayida. “I lifted my eyebrow, tone low, and controlled with a warnin growl she knew well.
Her throat bobbed before she finally spoke. "Ever since the night you got shot," she whispered. "It was like I saw it before it happened. And ever since then I've been seeing it over and over." Somethin in my chest twisted. A feelin I didn't have a name for. "Did you see who—" I stopped mid-sentence, cockin my head, studyin her face. She shook her head fast. "I can hear him," she said, voice thin. "I just can't see or recognize the voice. But the face isn't there. It's never there."
I dragged my hand down my face, my jaw tightenin as I climbed back into the bed. I grabbed her and pulled her onto my chest, lockin both arms around her like I was tryin to hold her together. Or like I was tryin to hold myself together. "Why you ain't said nothin' to me about it?" I asked, voice low but strained. "I didn't know this shit was takin' a toll on you like that." My grip tightened without me realizin it. She felt so damn small in my arms. Too soft for the shit we was caught up in. "I don't know," she murmured, shrugging against my chest. "You're never here, Noles. Even when you're here,
you not here."
That shit hit me right in the center of my chest. I closed my eyes for a second, breath draggin slow through my nose. She wasn't wrong. Hell, she was bein' too kind about it. I left her alone with her fear, her dreams, her visions, while I was outchasin' shadows and revenge. But hearing it out loud? Hearing her say it? That shit dug into me deeper than any bullet had. I opened my eyes, stared at the ceiling, then down at her. "I'm tryin', Yi," I said quietly. "I swear to God I'm tryin', I just—"
The words dried up in my throat. I didn't know how to explain the anger in me. The paranoia. The darkness I carried around like a second skin. Instead, I just held her tighter Because holdin her made the noise in my head quiet down.
Made the shadows in the room stand back. Made me feel like maybe I could come back to myself. Even if it was just for a second .
—
I sat at the end of the table inside the empty yacht Juste had just bought, my arms folded, one knee bouncin fast under the table. My head wasn't here. My patience sure as hell wasn't here. Juste had blueprints, budgets, and permits spread out everywhere, talkin about turnin this shit into some mid-sized casino. Not too big, not too lil. Just enough to wash money, make money, and keep eyes off the real business. He was in business mode, focused and precise like always.
My head was on fire. Every breath I took felt like glass going down my throat. Every sound made my jaw clench. Every second that passed without a name, without a face, without knowin who tried to put me in a grave made somethin inside me twist tighter. I could tell Juste noticed. I saw it in the quick looks he kept throwing my way, that "my brudda ain't right" shit. Pierre and Noles, Enzi need to be transported next weekend," Juste said, his eyes bouncin between me and Pierre like he ain't know which one of us was gon' say somethin first. "I don't got time to be chauffeurin' no nigga around," I snapped, smackin my lips. "I got otha shit on my mind." I cut my eyes at him. He cuthis eyes right back , harder. "Nigga, you betta make time," he said, starin dead through me.
I clenched my jaw. That nigga Enzi was tied to Abdul.
And Abdul was the last nigga we met with before I got lit the fuck up. Maybe Enzi knew somethin. Maybe he slipped up. Maybe he was the weak link. Maybe it was Abdul.
Maybe—
Juste must've seen the wheels turning in my head because he blew out his nostrils loud. "Don't do no stupid shit either, Noles." I smacked my lips, wavin him off. I wasn't listenin. He knew I wasn't listenin. Before either one of us could talk again, Pops walked in, stoppin the whole damn conversation. The temperature in that room dropped a few degrees as soon as he stepped in. I didn't say shit. Just watched him with my nostrils flared, hands fistin' on top the table. That nigga was my daddy, but he hadn't felt like my daddy since the moment he got pushed out. His energy was wrong. His timing was wrong. His eyes were wrong. Everything about him was off. somethin in me, somethin loud and dark, swore he had something to do with that hit.
He talked to Juste for a few minutes, exchangin papers, money, whatever. I didn't listen. I only watched his hands. Watched his face. Watched his posture. Searchin for guilt. Lookin for a crack in him. Then he handed Juste a bank envelope. My jaw flexed. "The fuck dis nigga doin' here?" I said finally, my patience with his presence disappearin quick. Juste turned toward me, mouth openin, like he had somethin, diplomatic to say but Pops held his hand up, stoppin him mid-breath. "Young nigga," Pops said, turning to me slow. "You betta act like you know who ya fuckin' daddy is." He stepped closer. "And I heard 'bout dat disrespectful ass shit you said to mywife." His voice stayed calm. "You think them bullets tore into ya ass? You keep right on, and ima run into ya lil fuck ass myself." He never broke eye contact. Then he flashed his eyes at Juste , something silent passed between them and he walked out, lettin the door slam behind him.
I stared after him, chest risin and fallin too fast. Juste turned to me with a look that matched his pops tone, low and dangerous. "Yo ass on some real hot boy shit," he snapped. "I need you to tone that shit down. ASAP." Jules cut in from where he'd been leanin against the rail, chewin on a blunt hangin from his lip like this was entertainment. "And what the fuck you said to my mama that was disrespectful, nigga?" I turned slow, eyes cold, jaw clenched. The part of me that crawled back from death swelled up like a tide. I stared at Jules, my voice droppin deeper than usual. "Whatever the fuck I said," I growled, "I meant it."
