“Yes, I did, and I took him with me because he knew Trey, and I didn’t have anybody else to keep him. My mama went to a church fundraiser.”
“You could have called me. I’m his father.”
“I could have, but I didn’t. I took him with me because I’m his mother, and I wanted him there. So give me my baby, and you can go on about your day.”
“You really need to decide if you want to be a mother or a fuckin’ thot.”
He put RJ back down on the ground.
“Oh, so I’m a thot because I went to my boyfriend’s funeral. RJ, come here, son. And tell your stupid ass daddy bye.”
Reggie walked off to his car, talking shit before he burned off down the street.
I don’t have time for his bull shit today, or anybody else’s for that fuckin matter.
Chapter 4
Amir
Three weeks later
“Alhamdulillah.”
I sat on the side of my bed.
I didn’t sleep good at all, tossing and turning throughout the night. It didn’t help that I didn’t have my bed to myself. I thought the company of a woman would help me sleep better, but to be honest, she just got in the way.
I stepped one foot on the side of the bed and stood up, stretching with a silent yawn that felt like it released all the tension in my bones for the moment. Once I took one step forward on the cold wood on my floors, Delilah’s head lifted from her pillow.
“Why are you getting out of bed this early, Amir?”
I turned over my shoulder.
“Because I have shit to do today.”
“Shit like what?”
“A meeting.”
She sat up, holding the sheet against her chest. Delilah’s Hijab was folded up neatly on the dresser, and I enjoyed looking at her without it. For the longest time, she didn’t take it off around me. She often tried to hold back on letting me see her in that way because we weren’t married, and she knew I wasn’t trying to get married either.
It was always crazy as hell to me that she would be butt ass naked in my bed getting fucked, but I couldn’t see her hair. When it would slip off when I was deep in her shit, she would hurry and put it back on, making sure it was pitch-black dark in the room just in case it came off, so I still couldn’t see. After a while, I guess her needs completely overrode her beliefs, and she started taking it off on the nights she stayed at my place. She then encouraged me to pull her hair while I was fuckin her. The once good girl had turned into a freak slowly, and that was all thanks to me.
I met Delilah back in high school, when she wanted to be invisible, yet I still saw her. My brothers, Abraham and Salah, were always chasing the girls they felt would give them sex easily, whereas I was a virgin, so I was looking for a connection more than pussy. That’s why I approached her one day in the hallway. I remember her locker was jammed, and I knew the trick to get it opened because mine would often jam too. I remember she was too shy to even look up into my face, and I lifted her chin to make her look at me once her locker was opened.
“Thanks, Amir.” She knew my name, and that shit caught me off guard. I was the quiet Quatar; everyone knew Salah and Abraham, but I was always known as their brother, never by Amir, so that meant something to me.
After that day, Delilah and I started eating lunch together and eventually became acquainted with each other more outsideof school. That was until her father found out who my father was and made her cut me off. We didn’t reconnect until she came to the Eid al-Fitr festival marking the end of Ramadan about four years ago. When she tapped me on my shoulder, dressed in a hijab and gown, I was still attracted to her beautiful ass. She had the kind of face that didn’t need hair or a body to complement it. Her eyes, lips, and almond complexion held weight on its own. I was smitten with her yet again, just like that wet behind the ears boy in high school.
Delilah got up from my bed, and the first thing she did was wrap her long, black, silky hair in her Hijab.
“Does this business you have to take care of happen to be a meeting with a therapist? Did you finally take my advice and sign up to see one?”
I walked into my restroom, running the water instead of answering her.
“Did you hear my question, Amir?”
“Dee, I told you I’m not talking to a therapist about shit. I ask for guidance from Allah. No man can give me that.”
