At the time, he felt so right. Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore. Especially after the position he had put me in as time went by.
I snapped out of my thoughts and opened my eyes when I heard footsteps. I looked up, and Mula was putting a memory card in the back of the flatscreen on the wall. My heart raced as the colored video started playing. Hurricane zoomed in andrewound the part where I was walking to the door. He froze the video and squinted his eyes at the screen. After looking at it for a few seconds, I felt the grip he had on my ponytail loosen.
“Today was your lucky damn day. Get up and take your ass home. I got some shit to handle.”
“But I’m supposed to be meeting the girls on the beach for the weekend. You said I could go last night,” I whined as I stood to my feet.
“Do what the fuck I said before I get on my bullshit for real with you. You think I got time to be worried about you while I got shit going on?” he raged.
I was over it all, so I left quietly because Hurricane had broken me down completely. After the way he treated me, I wasn’t going to enjoy my beach weekend anyway, and my friends hated it when I was a Debbie Downer. I had to call my best friend to break the news. This was the sixth link-up I blew off.
As I left out, I heard Hurricane raging at Sparkle, and I was glad. The bitch lied on me, and she knew that shit was wrong. But what pissed me off is he never embarrassed the bitch in front of me like he did me in front of her.
I felt like I was going to have a panic attack, so I rushed out of the building in my Bottega Veneta stilettos and headed to my brand new 6 Series BMW. I loved my new Summer whip. It was cocaine white with dark tint and black rims, but it wasn’t bought out of the kindness of Hurricane’s heart; it was one of his many “I’m sorry” gifts. He’d done so much dirt on me, I didn’t even know what the car was for. When I let Hurricane into my life, I never thought he would live up to his name when it came to me.
After I made him my nigga, I realized deep into the relationship that I’d signed my life to the devil. Hurricane was supposed to help me heal, protect me in the name of Coast, and build me up. He did all those things, but as fast as he built meup, he knocked me off my square ten times worse. He showed his true self, starting with his mental health.
I got in my driver seat and called my bestie, Solace. She was the only person I could vent to. Everyone else reported every word I said back to Hurricane, so I kept it short with the people around me. I drove out of the warehouse parking lot and got Solace on the phone.
“Hey, friend… I got some bad news,” I said bitterly.
“What, you can’t go to the beach? And let me guess, the devil is blocking your blessings again? Yumila Coast, how many times do I tell you to leave that nigga?” she scolded me.
“A million times, and you know it’s not that easy to get away. Where I’ma go? He will find me like he has in the past. Then, there’s so much going on in the streets. I need him for protection, and I ain’t got nobody. My brother’s team is my protection. You know my family is small.” I sighed.
“You don’t need him, and you’ve got Mula.”
There was a brief silence as I thought about Mula. He stepped in between me and Hurricane, which was something he hardly did.
“Mula has barely looked my way since Coast died.”
“That’s because you let Hurricane turn you into Satan’s damn wife. It was always supposed to be you and Mula.”
“It was always supposed to be me and none of Coast’s friends. My poor brother is probably rolling over in his grave. I plan to pack up and move away soon. Maybe to Starlight Hills, in the snow, like my original plan.”
“Bitch, don’t let that piece of shit run you out of Southwave or The Cove. This is your city more than it is his, if you want to get technical. If anything, get his ass outta here. Better bring out your inner Coast. But anyway, I ain’t mad that you ain’t going to the festival because I had to drop out last minute, too. Riley has the stomach flu.”
“Awww, I’ll come hang with you, then I’m going to the house.”
“Okay, boo. Stop at the store and get some crackers for your niece.”
I went to hang with my bestie, but when I got home, I was reminded of my everyday nightmare…
$$$$$
After chilling at Solace’s apartment in Southwave, I drove back to my home in the Silver Coast Heights that I shared with Hurricane. It was the upper-class area of Sable Cove, and you had to have big paper to live like we did. I could see the beach from my upper balcony and backyard. It was my dream home, but Hurricane sometimes made me feel like we were still in the damn Southshore Terrace projects.
It was ten at night, and it was way too early for Hurricane to be home, but to my surprise, he was there. I heard him talking loudly like he was on the phone as I walked through the foyer.
“You know I ain’t mean that shit. I’m sorry, bro!” He shouted, but his voice was unusual.
I found him in the kitchen and stopped in my tracks when I saw him standing at the sliding door leading to our backyard. He was shirtless in a pair of gray basketball shorts, Gucci slides, and a few gold and diamond chains, but what was alarming was the twelve-gauge shotgun he was holding to his side, and he wasn’t on the phone. I stood in the kitchen entrance and watched him talk to himself for close to a minute.
“You were always like blood to me. I would never intentionally do some shit!”
The backyard was pitch black, so there was no way he was talking to someone through the glass.
“Bro, you gotta stop showing up. This shit is driving me crazy!” His last words caused me to speak.
