Page 59 of Own It

“I’m doing my best, but I feel like shit would be easier if I wasn’t here,” I expressed, feeling my eyes well with tears.

It was some shit I would only reveal to my twin because Ayan wouldn’t give a fuck, and Rakim would care too fucking much, smothering a nigga.

“Aye, aye.” Josias scooted closer to me, throwing his arm around me. “Don’t talk like that, Z. I need you here, bruh. We gon’ get past all this.”

“Same shit you been saying since high school, Jojo, and here we are fifteen years later and talking about the same shit. You still fucking any bitch that’s fanned out, and I’m still getting high. Ayan still running behind pops for approval, and Rakim still callous as fuck, willing to kill a nigga for simple shit. It ain’t gon’ end. We fucked up. And he still around. Only way for us to make any progress is to get rid of that nigga.”

“We can’t do that.” Josias shook his head. “But I need you to stop talking like that, or I ain’t gon’ have no choice but to snitch to Rah.”

I knew he was serious, and like I said, Rakim wouldn’t let a nigga breathe if he thought I was going to commit suicide.

“Aight. I’m good.” I felt Josias watching me, so I repeated, “I’m good. I swear. I just . . . I don’t know, but this girl I met last night had me feeling something different. Almost like I was meant to meet her.”

“Don’t fuck it up like me.”

Chuckling, I said, “We twins, but that’s where we differ, nigga.”

Josias changed the subject to rant about his baby mamas, and I was thankful for the segue. Truthfully, though, I ain’t know if my interest in Téa was enough to keep me here. Life was always better with my mama, and maybe I needed to join her on the other side.

THIRTEEN

daylin

ONE WEEK LATER . . .

Opening the laptop, I logged into my shop to check the stats and sales. Everything looked good, and like Morgin had said via email, I’d done an amazing job getting Delicacies running to the point where I didn’t have to monitor it so closely.

Being away from my business made me realize that I could take more time off to do other shit or even just take a nap or read. I didn’t have to work fifteen-hour shifts, sometimes six days out of the week.

Looking over the laptop screen, I noticed Rakim was busy doing something that required a screwdriver. Watching the way his muscles bulged and tattoos danced was like porn, as he studied the object with his brows bunched and sexy lips tucked in.

I still remember the way my clit throbbed for fifteen minutes straight after he massaged my feet and a little bit of my calf. To go from being happily celibate to a bitch in heat was surely something.

I typed in Rakim’s full name and clicked videos, scrolling past the ones about his murder trial and conviction until I hit some of him in the ring. I thought he was cut up now, but back then, it was something crazy. He was sexy then and now, but I enjoyed how lean he looked in the present. He wasn’t skinny or anywhere close to it, but he also wasn’t a damn meathead.

Muting the laptop, I watched a few videos, my eyes bouncing back and forth between the screen and making sure Rakim was still focused on his little project. After watching a few, impressed by his technique, I exited out of the web browser and shut the laptop.

“I’m finished,” I announced, jarring him from what he was focused on, prompting him to set whatever the contraption was down on top of the desk.

“How far you into this one?” He pointed to the book beside me as he grabbed the laptop.

I didn’t know why I found his interest in what I was reading to be a green flag, but it was.

“I’m in the four hundreds, and it’s seven hundred pages, so I’m pretty far. I’m actually enjoying it a lot.” I smiled up at him as he moved around on the laptop, I assume to turn it off.

Thankfully, I’d closed down all the tabs.

“Damn, I just gave you that book two days ago. Thought it would take you some time, but shit, you not doing nothing else so.” He shrugged, smirking cutely with his cute ass.

“Exactly, but a book still has to be good for me to get that far, no matter if I’m busy, kidnapped, or what. ’Cause if it’s boring, it’ll still be a struggle.”

“True.” He bobbed his head.

“You were a really great fighter, Rakim.”

“Thanks.” His brows furrowed, making it clear he was wondering how I knew and what brought this comment on.

“I usually hate watching sports, but the little bit I saw, I was thoroughly entertained.”