The shock didn’t leave Mecca’s face, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t look high or drunk.
“The fuck? This ain’t cool. After the club shit, I thought we decided this was dead.”
“Dead for who?”
“All of us. Shit, Shade damn near beat the brakes off your ass and Trace almost put a bullet in your head. I don’t know about you, but that was a wake-up call for me.”
“Yeah, well, I ain’t on none of that wake-up shit. If those other niggas wouldn’t have started shooting, I would’ve handled Shade. He got off easy.”
I tried not to laugh.
Enzo seemed big and scary, but only because he was loud and walked around with niggas that toted guns. On his own, he was all bark and no bite.
Shade, on the other hand, never barked. Biting was his specialty.
“Yeah, okay,” Mecca said. “If that’s what helps you sleep at night, then cool. But I’m not messing around. I’m done getting mixed up in a bunch of bullshit. That’s why I stopped smoking. I don’t want?—”
I scoffed. “What the fuck ever.”
“I’m serious. I haven’t had anything since that night.”
“Mmhmm. That all sounds good. But I know you, Mecca. You can barely function without being high or drunk. You told me that yourself.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I know. But look where that’s got me. I got another bitch pregnant, lost the woman I love, and damn near died over some bullshit.”
I lifted my eyes to the ceiling, refusing to buy his sob story. Mecca was a master manipulator, and I’d allowed him to run his game on me for years. But not this time.
“Cut the shit, Mecca. I know you put Enzo up to this.”
He stepped closer. “Skye, baby, I swear I didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“Don’t call me baby.”
He lifted his hands. “My bad. But for real, I didn’t plan this shit.”
“Well, I guess I’ll leave you two alone,” Enzo cut in. “I’ve got some other things to take care of.” He slapped Mecca on the chest. “Hey, make sure you lock up when you leave. Oh, and if you guys decide to fuck it out, just don’t go to the basement. That’s for other shit. She ain’t ready for that.”
I scrunched my nose. I didn’t know what made me want to throw up more, the fact that Enzo thought I would actually open my legs for Mecca again, or the thought of what he had lurking down in that basement.
I quivered.
As soon as Enzo left, silence filled the room.
Mecca stood in front of me, his eyes glued to his phone.
Suddenly, a familiar voice came through the speaker. “Yo, Enzo, this is Shade. Answer the fucking phone. If you have Skye?—”
“Hey, give me that shit,” Ocean said in the background. “Aye, nigga, I hope your bitch ass updated your life insurance policy, because that’s the only way your kid is going to know you fucking existed. I swear on my life?—”
The line went dead, and Mecca started pacing.
“Fuckkkkk!”
A smile spread across my face.
I knew Ocean was crazy. But it was the kind of crazy that made my insides tingle and my panties wet.
“You good?” I asked, a smirk still dancing at the corner of my lips.
