The excuse I gave Zilphia for picking her up from school is bullshit. I needed to see her, to touch her, to smell her, but most of all, I needed tofuckher. Hell, I still need tofuckher. It takes everything in me not to detour down another alley and bury my cock inside her wet, warm goodness again.
And fuck, when she squirted all over me, I nearly lost my goddamn mind. I want her sweet juices all over me again. Fuck it. I don’t care what I told her. I’ll take her to see her grandmother, but after that, we’re going home.
I park across the street from the house and kill the engine. Angry shouts reach my ears from the open door.
“Oh no,” Zilphia mumbles, then bolts across the street, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a car.
If the driver hadn’t swerved around her at the last second, she’d be dead. The motorist hurls several obscenities at her before giving her the bird and speeding away.
“Zilphia!” I shout, chasing after her. What the hell is wrong with her? I enter the living room a second behind her into chaos.
Her aunt and cousin are beating the fuck out of her mother. The aunt’s husband is in the middle of the brawl, trying to separate them. I have to hand it to her, though—she’s giving as good as she gets.
Zilphia’s grandmother struggles to make her way downstairs, crying hysterically and yelling at her daughters to stop.
I spot her little cousin peeking from behind the sofa, a cell phone plastered to his ear, most likely talking to a 911 dispatcher.
“I should’ve never let you anywhere near my husband!”
“It’s not my fault you weren’t taking care of your man!”
“Let go of her hair, Sheila!” The man responsible for the fight bellows. “You’re both pregnant for Christ’s sake!”
His wife turns on him and starts swinging. “You got the bitch pregnant!”
I blow out a breath. “Fuck, I didn’t see that coming.”
Now there are two fights instead of one, and I ain’t breaking up shit. I lean back against the wall and cross my arms. Five-O better get here quick.
“Let her go!” Zilphia wails and latches onto her cousin’s arm before she can rain more punches down on her mother’s head.
She whirls around and shoves her hard, sending her crashing into the glass coffee table. Zilphia screams in agony, cradling her bloody forearm to her chest. I pounce on the bitch, slamming the back of my hand across her face and knocking her into darkness.
“Deja!” Her mother races to her side and glares at me with hate-filled eyes. “Who are you and what the hell are you doing in my house?”
The matriarch of the family’s limp body lands at the foot of the stairs. Anguished screams reverberate through the living room.
I leap into action, kneeling beside her and placing two fingers on the right side of her neck. “No pulse.”
“Don’t let her die, Sandman,” Zilphia begs. “Please don’t let her die.”
I start CPR just as several policemen rush into the house, their weapons drawn. They quickly assess the situation and take over. I pull Zilphia into my arms and hold her tight as she bawls her eyes out.
One month later
I burrow closer to my grandmother’s frail body and rest my head on her chest. The soft mattress seems to swallow her tiny frame whole. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” she assures me. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
I lift my head and stare into her soft, rheumy gaze. “I have to tell you something.” I inhale a deep breath as tears spill from my eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
She smiles and wipes the wetness from my cheeks. “I know, sweetheart. You’re going to be a great mother.”
“How-how do you know?” I ask her. “I haven’t even told Momma yet.”
“I know these things.”
“You’re not disappointed in me?” I love my grandmother so much. She’s always been my biggest cheerleader. I would hate to upset her in any way.
