Page 25 of Kisses Behind the Spotlight

“You right,” he monotoned, shocking the fuck out of me.

I expected Xain to toss out a rebuttal, and I was prepared to go round for round in here. Instead, he lay silently, staring up at the ceiling like he was processing everything I’d said. Xain turned on his side, his one eye roaming my face.

Did I get through to him?

“You know, you kind of cute when you aren’t saying or doing something to make a nigga wanna go in yo shit,” Xain complimented. He turned back over and closed his one visible eye. “Do you have an Alexa speaker or something to play soothing sleep music?”

“Ughhhhh! NO! GET OUT!” I screeched, completely thrown off. I thought my little speech brought Xain to his senses, but he was lying here complimenting me.

“I’m here to stay, Khaleesi. Even if you aren’t the reason I don’t have a wife at home, I’m still sick, and I got one fucking eye because of you. Now go make the soup, or I’ll cough on you and get you sick again!”

“Oh hell no! Are you still contagious? Get out! Get out!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

My body became hot with anxiety. Deep down, I knew Xain wasn’t joking about my phone. His words were confirmed when I looked at the screen and saw that there was no internet or cell service on my device. It was a useless piece of glass and titanium.

“Arrgghhhhhhhh!” I screamed.

“Come on, sounding like a fuckin’ pirate in my ear and shit. Unless you ‘bout to jump out of the third-floor window, you need to shut the fuck up and go make the soup. I’ll be resting in the meantime.”

His one uncovered eye was closed, and his face looked stoned and unbothered beneath the scarring from his accident. Placing the gun back into its place inside my nightstand, I flipped open my MacBook and tried to text and FaceTime from the device. It didn’t work.

Hopping out of bed, I slipped my feet into my purple fuzzy slippers and rushed to the door. I also knew in my gut that Xain wasn’t lying about tampering with my door, but I still had to give it a try. It was no secret that Q’s big brother Tech could do a lot of underhanded things for a fee, and I was just his latest victim.

I fought to turn the knob on the smart lock for a few seconds, but it wouldn’t budge. Then I went to a few windows, not surprised that the smart window openers were also engaged. Without access to my phone, I was stuck in here.

“I’m gonna cuss Tech’s ass out the next time we cross paths!”

On my trek back to my bedroom, I paused to examine the pile of Publix bags on my dining room table.

“Xain, you’re really insane if you think I’m about to take care of you! This is grippy socks level shit! When I had the flu, I took care of myself. You can do the same! Get the fuck out of my house!”

Xain stood from the bed and sauntered towards the door, slamming it in my face. I heard the lock click, and rage consumed me. I darted towards the door, beating on it with both fists. The thunderous banging went uncontested for a few minutes before I finally gave up and stomped into the living room.

I sat on the couch for about thirty minutes, thinking of a way out. One of the biggest selling points of the property was its exceptional soundproofing. The walls were so well insulated that once the door closed, the chaos of the city disappeared. No traffic, no sirens, and my favorite perk was never hearing my neighbors. As I sat in my living room while that maniac lay in my bed, I regretted the decision to live there.

Eventually, my anger subsided. I knew I had to attract bees with honey. Rolling my shoulders back, I slowly tilted my neck from side to side, working the tension out of my muscles like Jameera taught me. I took a deep breath. Inhale. Exhale. Then I flung my arms out, giving my hands a good shake as I prepared myself for the acting performance of my lifetime.

Sauntering towards the door, I opened and closed my mouth a few times before shifting my jaw from side to side. The things I was about to say would hurt. Lifting my knuckles, I gently knocked on the door.

“Okay, Xain. I’m relaxed. I’m calm. I’ve had some time to think, and I want to apologize for giving you the flu. I understand why you are here, and I just want to come to a compromise. Please let me in so we can talk,” I pleaded.

Although I was feeling better and no longer contagious, Xain could still change that. When I left the house a few days ago to spend time at Mama Marissa’s house, it felt good to soak up the vitamin D from the sun, and I hoped the extra boost would prevent me from catching the flu from Xain again.

After a minute or two without a response, I started again.

“Xain, I have my period, and all of my feminine products are in my bathroom,” I confessed.

There was finally movement in my bedroom, and I braced myself for the door to open so I could pounce. That moment never came, though. Instead of opening the door, Xain slid two tampons, two panty liners, and two pads under my bedroom door.

“‘Preciate the apology. I’m about to get some more sleep, and we can talk when I wake up. Go ‘head and make the soup. I’ll eat it when I wake up,” Xain suggested.

Seething, I raised my fists and beat on the door like a petulant child. My anger was heightened again, and the wave of cramps that smacked me sent me over the edge.

“I knew yo ass was capped out,” Xain spat.

After a while, I grew tired of banging on the door, gathered my feminine products, then went through the grocery bags, taking out anything that needed to be refrigerated and putting it away. The rest could wait.

A few minutes later, I retreated to my guest bedroom. I had a full setup for when my little brothers came to spend the night, and the sheets had just been changed when I hired a cleaning lady to deep-clean my entire place after I was no longer considered contagious. Climbing into the bed, I curled up underneath the covers, resting my body because I knew I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep with Grippy Socks in the next room.