3
SKYE
Silence filled the night air as Mecca and I sat side by side in the back seat, the driver cruising through the city streets. It was the kind of quiet that felt heavy, almost uncomfortable. But I wasn’t surprised. Mecca was scared out of his damn mind.
After everything he’d put me through, I knew a part of him was worried that I might change my mind about leaving his name out of this. But I had no intention of doing that. I just wanted him out of my life for good.
“You can relax,” I finally whispered, my eyes not leaving my window. “I’m not going to go back on my word.”
He took a deep breath, his shoulders staying high longer than normal before they finally dropped. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did. I fucked up big time. I know that.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“I just never thought?—”
“I know what you thought,” I said, uninterested in the details of his reasoning.
I’d spent way too much time listening to all the things he said rather than the little things he didn’t. Allowing his wordsto reach my heart was no longer an option. I didn’t want to feel sorry for him. I refused.
Slowly, he turned toward me. “Look, I know there’s no way that you’ll ever forgive me for all the pain I caused, but I just want you to know that I truly do love you.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Mecca.”
“Trust me, I know, and I get it. But I need to say this. I need you to know that nothing I did was ever about you. That shit was all on me. I was the fuck up. I was the one who thought I could do whatever and still be with you,” he said. “You just had a way of making a nigga feel like you would always be down, and I took advantage of that shit.”
I almost opened my mouth to ask why. But was it even worth knowing? I was finally in a place where I could focus on what was important...myself. I wasn’t interested in closure or anything that resembled it. I was well aware of the importance of forgiveness and how it was supposed to be for the person doing the forgiving. But I also felt like Mecca didn’t deserve the satisfaction of receiving my forgiveness. At least not so easily. What he really deserved was a beatdown that left him within inches of his life. Now that would’ve satisfied me. But like I said, I’m not going back on my word.
Sighing, I tilted my head to the side and held his gaze. “Mecca, I know you want me to forgive you so you can move on and be at peace, but that’s not going to happen right now. Who knows? Maybe when I’m done being held hostage, I’ll send you that shit in an email or a text. Or maybe I won’t say shit at all and let you be plagued with the thought that I won’t ever forgive you.” I shrugged. “Only time will tell.”
We pulled into the parking lot of Nyx’s apartment building.
“Well, on that note, I guess I better help you out of the car.”
“No, thank you. For your sake, I suggest you stay inside.”
“Nah, it’s the least I can do.”
He hopped out of the car and hurried around to my side before I could stop him.
When he opened the door and held out his hand, I looked at it like it had shit on it.
I wouldn’t dare touch him by choice.
“Again, Skye, I’m really sorry about all of this.”
“Mmhmm,” I said as I stepped out and started toward the building. Enough had been said.
Suddenly, rubber scraped and skidded across the pavement behind me.
I spun around, my eyes widening as I saw Ocean hop out of his blacked-out BMW and slam the door. “Motherfucker! I’ve been looking for your bitch ass.”
Before I could open my mouth, the back of his pistol was against Mecca’s skull.
“I thought I warned your ass about doing dumb shit, and you chose to do the dumbest shit of all.” Another blow to the forehead. “You know my track record. You know I don’t fuck around.”
I should’ve put a stop to it. I should’ve told Ocean that he needed to chill.
But I didn’t want to.
