“Take it back,” she blurted out, cutting me off.
I scrunched my face in confusion. My hand parted to prod, but I thought against it. Instead, I reached my hand out. That motion made her jump, so I closed it into a fist until she held hers out and clasped mine. I didn’t notice tears forming in her eyes because my vision was becoming blurry from my own.
We pressed our heads together and cried.
Our weeps spoke for us, and we didn’t care about the mass of people ogling at us with arched brows. Nothing else mattered in this moment but us.
We’d spent so much time hating each other and swept so many things under the rug, with no hopes of ever regaining our foundation for love. People always say blood is thicker than water and all that shit, but there was a time when we hated each other, and blood being thicker than water didn’t matter.
Through the fire, I’d walk into a burning building and save her before I saved someone else—I knew that much.
It took a while for me to understand that Trecee was running from her own unhappiness—coddling a romance she yearned for. Romelo was her crutch; nonetheless, he saved her.
I can try to put myself in her shoes, but I can’t.
I’ll never love a man more than I love myself, and that was her first mistake.
Just like me, she was in too deep too… still is. And though I doubt she’ll ever forgive me, when she’s healed, I pray she can find it in her heart to never vow a man before herself and live up to her own standards.
ROMELO “ROME” JONES
“Don’t worry ‘bout counting the inventory. The truck come every other Wednesday. Me and Javon deal with that shit. Folks gon’ come in with all type of tech issues, and whatever the fuck you can’t solve, tell them to go to the Apple store, because by that point.” I spoke to Monterrius, showing him the ins and outs of Telo Wireless.
The lil’ nigga needed something to do besides be in the house playing video games and shit. I didn’t need to talk to Synthia prior about my plans, though I doubt she’d have obliged. Any nigga living under my roof needed some type of income, and Monterrius was at the age where he could make his own paper.
“I got you,” he responded once we finished the tour.
“Before I leave for the night, Javon should be giving you a few uniforms. We should have some in storage.”
“Cool,” he nodded, rubbing his hands together.
“You ain’t no thief like yo cousin is, are you?” I asked with a raised brow.
He looked up at me, matching my expression.
“What you mean?”
I stared at him for a second, then chuckled, hitting him lightly in the chest. “I’m just fuckin’ wit’ you, lil’ nigga. Javon gon’ close shop tonight. He’ll be the one to take you home. Hit me up if you need anything—I’m out.”
I had a good feeling about this—adding him to the team. Javon needed to get used to the idea of having other people around. He was too busy being afraid I’d snatch his authority away, like that would ever happen.
“Aye, Javon, I’m gone for the night, nigga.” I peeked my head in the office to let him know. “Take it easy on Monterrius—that’s bae’s lil’ cousin.”
“I got you,” he retorted, not taking his eyes off the spreadsheet.
Backing out of the parking lot, I headed to my flower dealer to pick up a bouquet. Instead of heading home, I went to my spot in Twinkle Town. Juicy and the kids were in my spot at Midtown. For the most part, all of Trecee’s things were gone—I’d put everything in storage for her.
Synthia was pressing me about getting her own spot, but in the meantime, I paid her out of her lease and put her things in storage too. She had no use for any of it now because my house was fully furnished—but that didn’t stop her from putting up a fight.
I liked the idea of her stepping up for her little cousins, because somebody had to. Yolanda didn’t give her much grief because she knew better. Synthia thought about being petty and stopping her welfare checks and SNAP benefits by ratting her out, but she chose the latter. We didn’t do shit the legal way, and until we did, we had to accept our role as nothing short of babysitters keeping her kids well-kept. Yolanda had to learn the hard way, because shit always plays out exactly how it’s supposed to.
Entering the compound, I glanced over at Roxx and noticed it was the flight attendant, Melanie, exiting her car wearing little to nothing while he waited for her at the door. When he spotted me, he gave me a head nod with a playful smirk. Nasty ass nigga gon’ fuck around and catch something if he don’t stop.
Just as I exited the car, Juicy was FaceTiming me. With a grin on my face, I answered the call.
“Wassup, Juicy?”
“Wassup, Juicy,” she mocked me.
