Page 25 of Forced Matrimony With An Unhinged Menace 4

I stood under that shower and for the first time in a long time, my wife wasn’t there invading my space. She wasn’t there washing my back for me and the shit felt weird.

When I got out and climbed into bed, it felt big. Empty in a way I ain’t never noticed before. Hell, I couldn’t even roll over on most nights because she was always right underneath me.

I laid there and let what Zaire said replay in my head over and over. No, I ain’t know her eight years ago. But it wasn’t even about that. Why would she keep secrets from me that she knew I needed to have? I ain’t never let women get this close to me in my life, but with her, I let her in on every part of it. I kept my promises to her, stayed faithful even though I didn’t think that was some shit that I could actually do, and right now, a nigga felt betrayed down to the bone.

Then my mind drifted to my mother. To what she’d done to tear this whole family apart. My mind just wouldn’t believe it although I knew the truth for sure now.

I worried about my father, the look still stuck in my head that he had on his face when we left that house. Demon being my brother still felt too far from real to fully believe, even with everything laid out plain in front of me. And on top of all that, he’d had Tattiana first. That thought alone made me sick to my stomach. That thought alone made me eager to kill that bitch ass nigga and I didn’t give a fuck who he was related to. My only brothers were Zaire and Namier and that’s all it could ever be.

After an hour of thinking and stressing, I finally fell asleep somewhere under the weight of all of it.

When I woke up, it was six in the morning, and I was already on a mission. Didn’t have time to lay around feeling anything other than wanting and needing revenge.

I brushed my teeth, washed my face, got dressed, called both my brothers on FaceTime while I moved around still getting ready.

Zaire was still laid up in bed, hair everywhere, looking like death. Namier was crashed out on Zaire’s couch. Guess they’d both stayed up late talking to moms half the night.

I couldn’t face her right now either, if I was being real with myself. I prayed that I could find forgiveness in my heart for her, but she really disappointed a nigga.

“Get up,” I said. “Be ready in thirty minutes. Ain’t time to lay around this morning.”

“Who the fuck you supposed to be?” Namier groaned, rubbing his face. “You taking this head of family title way too serious, brotha. It’s six in the morning. My breath still stank and shit.”

“You know who I am,” I said. “That mean get yo hot breath ass up and handle it. Thirty minutes.” I hung up on him.

Zaire was so tired he ain’t even bother saying nothing back.

—

I was outside right on time.

When Namier and Zaire finally came outside to the truck, they looked halfway refreshed, ready enough for whatever the day had in store. Soon as Zaire climbed in the front seat, he started right back up about moms.

“The way pops was acting last night,” Zaire said, “he wanted her gone for real. I’m scared to leave her at my crib too long, I don’t want them crossing paths and getting into some shit while we out here handling business. I tried talking to her a little last night, but she still stuck on saving her bastard ass son. I can’t even really talk to her right now. She know she wrong.”

Hearing that come out Zaire’s mouth, of all people, told me exactly how deep this had cut him too. Momma could do no wrong in this nigga eyes, that was until now.

I picked my phone up and called Sam, told him to keep eyes on Zaire’s house, made sure the rest of the team knew our parents needed to stay separated for now, no crossing paths till things cooled down some.

This whole situation was crazy. The two people I’d looked up to my whole entire life, at odds like this, it ain’t make no sense.

“First stop, we handling yo hoe Mallory, right?” Namier said from the back seat. “She can lead us straight to Demon. And real talk, we probably should’ve brought Tatti with us for this one. I love watching her beat that bitch head like a punching bag. Tattiana Carter don’t play.” Namier laughed a little too loud at his own jokes.

“She really be beating her ass like that for real?” Zaire turned around in his seat, looking at Namier with eyebrows raised.

“Like a muthafucka,” Namier said, already pulling his phone out. “Hold on, let me show you the footage from Tatti’s first night in the crib. She whooped a concussion up on that hoe, I swear. If a bitch ever play with you out here, just call Tatti.”

He passed the phone up to Zaire, and Zaire’s hand went straight up to his mouth.

“You ain’t lying,” Zaire said, laughing now. “She beat her like she stole something.”

“Alright! That’s enough, that’s my wife,” I said, but I couldn’t help the small smile creeping up before I caught myself and shut it down. “Bump all that down. But no lie, her hands is definitely heavy. I don’t know where she learned that from, as bougie as she act sometimes. But she good with them hands for real.”

I let myself sit in that thought for one second, thinking about her, before I remembered I was supposed to still be mad at her ass, and I pushed it back down where it belonged.

We pulled up near Mallory’s address and circled the block twice, slow, checking all the angles. On the second pass, a car pulled out that driveway and was headed halfway down the road before we lost sight of it. I ain’t think too much about it.

We parked a street over, got out the car and cut through a trail that led us around to the back of Mallory house, moving quiet, and careful.