Amaris #3
“You really took the time out to make tonight special, and I appreciate every detail down to you picking out my dress and shoes… I haven’t had a man buy me flowers besides my dad. I went on my first helicopter ride and got my first foot fuck.” I smiled.
We looked at each other before his top lip twitched. Seconds later we were laughing like two lost friends that hadn’t seen each other in forever. In the midst of us going back and forth, two waitresses came with a new bottle of wine, water, and different desserts.
Royal took it up a notch by grabbing his fork and took small pieces from different platters then fed them to me.
After I tasted everything, I returned the favor with him.
Honestly, I didn’t want our night to come to an end, so when he offered for me to come back to his house to spend a couple of days with him, I agreed at little faster than what I liked.
“Before we leave, I want you to tell me something,” I said cautiously.
Royal looked up at me, almost as if he heard a ghost announce its presence.
“It’s only fair since—”
“I was abused physically growing up,” he said plainly, cutting me off.
I trained my face to remain blank. I remember him saying that he wanted no sympathy earlier.
My heart cracked for him because being physically abused as a kid in any way was cruel.
I thought about him mentioning being lied to growing up, thinking the parents who raised him was his real parents only to find out they weren’t was even more heartbreaking.
Then there was the way he offered that information.
He said it like it didn’t bother him, but this was something that did just in the way his posture changed.
I could tell he did well over the years, masking the pain and betrayal he felt from what he experienced as a kid.
His tattoos finally made sense to me now, I knew from jump, each one told a painful story.
“I got beat a lot,” he croaked out. “Sometimes it was for trying to protect my momma…” His words trailed off.
“Ronald liked to whoop her ass for small shit, so when she did things that really pissed him off he’d go overboard and I’d get in the way to protect her just to give her a break from the blows.”
My chest tightened painfully. The empty look in his eyes, and the way his voice was void of emotion while talking gave me chills.
“He hated me, but in front of his friends he was a proud father… That shit mind fucked me a lot because I’d actually feel good when he talked about how good my grades were and how good of a kid I was when others inquired about me,” He shook his head.
“I’d ask myself why didn’t he act like that behind closed doors.
I even start thinking some shit was wrong with me…
then I’d go to my brother Luca house to escape…
That fucked me up more because I was treated good as hell in his household.
I was taught shit that Ronald never taught me…
simple shit like taking out the trash. Looking folks in the eyes, hygiene, and so much other shit. ” He chuckled dryly.
“Luca’s dad basically raised my ass. I knew he loved me without no second-guessing because he treated me like he did his sons.”
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.
“I’d be good during the day, keeping busy, handling business, and being around my brother.
When my nephews come over, I enjoy them and don’t feel so alone in my house…
I guess it doesn’t feel like I’m running from my thoughts and dreams when I’m around people I’m comfortable with,” he confessed sounding anxious.
“So what all do you do?’” I raised a brow.
“I’m pretty sure Maniac done pillow-talked to you. All mafia business, baby… That part of my world you’ll never be introduced to, unless you trying to join.” He winked.
He’s definitely dangerous as hell… An alarm went off in my mind. Still, I felt drawn to him. I felt secure in his presence like not even a fly would land on me.
“I’m good with managing my dad’s lounges.” I smiled.
“Is that all you want to do?” He asked seriously.
“Some days no, most days yes. I poured a lot into Spike’s Lounge; I’m the reason why it’s so exclusive.” I smiled proudly.
“That’s what’s up… as long Spike’s Lounge ain’t stopping you from living and enjoying your twenties,” he offered.
“I know… crazy part about it is I always wanted to own and be a businesswoman. I’m good at leading and making a business thrive. When I turned twenty-one, I started saving all the money my dad paid me. I have a little bit over a million now,” I stated proudly feeling comfortable telling him that.
He was the first person I even told.
“You trying to buy your dad out?” Royal looked fully intrigued now.
“I am.” I twisted my neck sharply. “I want to rebrand and franchise Spike’s Lounge and make it more exclusive for the elite.”
“I can set up a meeting for you to pitch your plan to me and my brother.” He smirked mischievously. “I can’t promise anything since Maniac smeared his name with us… maybe we can work a payment plan and—”
“Nigga, fuck you and the loan.” I cut him off.
We both fell out laughing hard from his audacity with dessert sitting in front of us half eaten.
Along with the beautiful city lights behind us and the slow jazz music crooning through the speakers.
We continued to talk and pick each other brains.
The conversation flowed effortlessly, the vibe was on a thousand between us.
I secretly prayed for more days and nights like this with Royal and also prayed for both of our peace, clarity, and closure to the things that still bothered us.