“Noble it’s okay,” Irish softly said.
He cut his eyes at her. “A nigga talking to you crazy ain't gon’ ever be okay, especially when I’m here.”
“Shit,” Cali whispered under her breath.
“Fuck this.” Uncle Fish scowled, waving them off. “We don't need her permission to do a fucking funeral.”
“I think you do. I was his wife. Don't shit move until I say so.”
Uncle Mel’s face expressed his disdain with Irish as he looked her up and down. “You really showing who you are. All that acting innocent shit was just a front, huh?”
“Get your bitch-ass on before you get laid out,” Noble threatened.
The two men eye-warred until Uncle Mel surrendered. He walked away with Uncle Fish following closely behind him. Irish released a breath of relief, silently thanking God that a shootout didn’t occur.
“Damn, Jovanis’ family is annoying as shit,” Cali complained. “First the mama and now those two loser-ass niggas.”
“They're usually cool but I guess his death put them in a different mood.”
“Fuck them,” Noble muttered just as Rio cut through the crowd.
He first approached Irish. “You good, sis?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay, Rio. Thanks for asking.”
His gaze glanced at Cali, who didn’t give him any eye contact. Rio then whispered something in Noble’s ear.
“I’ll be right back,” he told Irish.
She nodded and watched them step away to gain some privacy.
“Dumb bitch. Don't look at me,” Cali mumbled, referring to Rio
For the first time that night, Irish chuckled. “He sure did take a look at you.”
Ivory turned around. “I thought you were sad about your divorce.”
“Fuck him,” Cali hissed, rolling her eyes.
Irish knew that was her emotions talking. Deep down, under all the debris of pain, was still some love.
Noble came back over to where they were standing. “Let me know when you ready to go.”
“I’m ready now.”
The sorrow of the memorial had infected Irish with more grief. She’d been holding her tears in ever since they arrived. She needed a release, especially after Jovanis’ uncles had come at her crazy.
“A’ight, let’s go.”
Days later…
She looked as if she had been in a fight with an animal.
Rio tried to keep himself from wincing at Rozalin’s appearance but found it difficult not to. Her lip was split, and her eyelid was swollen. A bruise embellished her cheek while a gash graced the side of her face. Cali had done a number on her. She sat on the floor by her full-body mirror, dabbing her scars with cocoa butter.
“How you feel?” he asked, stretching his arms over his knees.
It had been three days since the altercation and this was his first time seeing her. He had been so wrapped up in the Jovanis’ situation that he hadn’t had time to check on her until now.
