Page 83 of A Capo’s Love: Featuring A Don’s Love

I watched him carefully after the words left his mouth down to the way his fingers tightened slightly around the stem of his glass like he needed something stronger. I understood what it felt like to carry childhood into adulthood. It became extra luggage that nobody else understood.

“How does it bother you now?” I asked softly.

Royal looked out the windows briefly then back at me.

“It fucked with my mood swings. I used to take opioids heavy just as a pick-me-up. Weed would make me think too much about shit that I didn’t want on my mind while the pills made me feel invincible. I was able to carry my past and still feel straight,” he admitted.

My stomach tightened from that because he said it casually like it was normal to abuse pills.

“I was drinking hard too with the pills… so that combination had me fucked up for a while.” He tugged at his beard, and I made a mental note that it was something he did whenever he was bothered.

“Sooo—”

“I stopped the pills though,” he said, already thinking what I was about to ask.

“I stopped because I didn’t like how dependent I was on them… I don’t like depending fully on shit…and those bitches started to make me feel like I needed them just to feel normal.”

“What else you depended on?” I asked.

“A woman that I thought—” He cleared his throat then frowned.

“She was cool peoples, no lie, but I realized she was more damaged than me… I would’ve ended up killing her for some shit she couldn’t control.” His eyes flicked down to the chocolate cake that we took pieces from.

“So you were in love with her?” I asked, trying my hardest not to sound like I was judging.

To keep it real, I didn’t care about no woman before me, but if we ended up getting serious I was for sure going to make sure that I wasn’t serving as a rebound. With the level of freakiness, good dick, and the romance Royal was coughing up… it could get toxic because I was already feeling possessive like the dick belonged to me.

I just sucked on your damn feet, nigga… the dick better be mine! I thought as he licked his lips before talking.

“I fell for her because she’d listen to the kind of shit I’m telling you now and wouldn’t judge me. Most of the time she wouldn’t say shit⁠—”

“You’d come to her high out of your mind?” I cut him off sharply, not liking where this was going.

“Yeah.” He shrugged like it was nothing. “Now that I look back at it…Serenity was a good listening ear, especially the nights I couldn’t sleep from just reliving shit at night.” He muttered.

“I’d pull up to House of Angels drunk as fuck… high off pills… pay the fee, fuck her through the headboard, then talk about what kept me woke and led me to her,” he continued.

“So she was a prostitute.” I frowned.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Well maybe it was more so about the money for her… I’m sure she probably liked you… you’re not hard to like. She had no problem listening to what troubled you because she might’ve felt like it was part of the payment.” I snapped my neck to the side like it all made sense.

“You jealous.” He smirked.

“No, I’m not at all… If things were to turn into something more with us, I won’t be in competition with the next bitch… I sure as hell won’t be proving to you why you should pick me over her either,” I said seriously, hoping he got the hint.

“I wouldn’t expect that at all,” he said firmly.

“Good…” I paused to choose my next words wisely.

“I feel like we could do good being there for each other with no judgement. Just know that I’m not here to just shut up and listen to your problems. I’m also not here to condone you abusing liquor and pills.” I kept it real with him.

His eyes darkened again just by me mentioning it. I saw the tension on his face as he scrubbed his fingers through his facial hair connecting to his full beard.

“What keeps you up at night, fighting sleep? Is it just the abuse or something else?” I asked.

“I got a lot of blood on my hands.” He opened his hands and looked down at them like he could visibly see blood. “When I’m alone, I see faces in my head… I see myself as the little weak boy getting beat on for nothing… then I used to fight off intrusive thoughts like driving to my childhood home and killing that nigga right in front of my momma.” He leaned back but his posture stayed rigid.