Chapter 8 KAY’LO MENSAH #2
I cracked a small smile but it wasn’t reachin’ all the way.
I tossed a card down and lit another blunt, inhalin’ slow and tryna calm my nerves.
My head felt tight, but not in a painful way.
It was in that way where everything was stackin’ up inside me.
I kept thinkin’ about my pops, about the way he looked at me earlier and about how everything I said got brushed off like it wasn’t shit.
I ain’t wanna think about that shit though, so I smoked again.
Blaqson came back outside with a cup full of ice. “Aye, y’all niggas want somethin’ to drink? Toni makin’ somethin’ in there. She funny as hell, boy.”
Pressure chuckled. “Toni be havin’ jokes for days.”
I don’t know why that rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it was the way he said it. Maybe it was the day I had. Maybe it was the fact that nigga been runnin’ in and out my fuckin’ house all night and every time he came back, he had somethin’ from the kitchen.
I ignored the feelin’ and kept playin’. But the longer I sat there, the more irritated I felt.
After a few more rounds of cards, I stood up. “I’m gon’ run inside real quick.”
Pressure nodded without askin’ why. Renza kept talkin’ shit to himself like he was practicin’ for a championship.
As soon as I stepped inside, the smell of food floated through the air. The lights in the kitchen was warm, the counters clean like always, and I heard Toni laughin’. It wasn’t just a small laugh either. It was one of them cute lil’ playful ones she do when she comfortable and talkin’ shit.
I followed the sound.
When I hit the other side of the kitchen, I saw Toni leanin’ against the counter with a cup in her hand, smilin’ while Blaqson was bent over the freezer gettin’ more ice.
He said somethin’ slick to make her laugh again, and that shit hit me somewhere I don’t like bein’ hit.
It wasn’t that she was doin’ anything wrong. It was the fact that this nigga was in MY kitchen talkin’ to MY woman like they was cool enough to share jokes behind my back.
I walked in slow. “Blaqson… why you in my kitchen talkin’ to my bitch?”
Toni froze. She ain’t even take a sip. Her whole face dropped into confusion and embarrassment.
Blaqson turned around with the bag of ice in his hand and stared at me like he ain’t believe what he just heard. “Nigga… what?”
“I asked you a question,” I said while movin’ closer. “Why you in here talkin’ to my bitch?”
“Kay’Lo, stop!” Toni said quick while steppin’ toward me.
But I wasn’t even lookin’ at her. My eyes stayed locked on Blaqson.
He set the ice down and took a step back from the counter. “Aye bro, chill out. You know better than that. Don’t put her in that kinda sentence. That’s disrespectful as hell.”
“Man, shut the fuck up,” I said with a low voice. “You the one in here. I ain’t tell you come in my house and get comfortable.”
“I came to get ice, nigga,” he said. “Your girl was in here so I spoke. Ain’t nobody flirtin’ or doin’ nothin’ weird. You trippin’.”
Toni touched my arm like she was tryna calm me. “Kay’Lo, stop. Please!”
I pulled my arm away without lookin’ at her. My face was hot now, my heart beatin’ fast. Everything inside me felt crowded, and his voice wasn’t helpin’ none.
Blaqson scoffed and shook his head. “You actin’ real goofy right now.”
That did it.
I stepped right in his space. “Say that shit again.”
Before he could, Toni rushed out the kitchen and yelled, “PRESSURE! RENZA! COME HERE!”
I barely heard her feet run across the floor.
Blaqson put both hands up like he was done arguin’. “Nigga, look. I ain’t even tryna beef with you. You know me. You know what it is. You know—”
I cut him off by pullin’ my gun from my waistband and pointin’ it right at his face.
Everything in the room dropped silent.
Blaqson’s eyes widened, not scared, just shocked as hell. “Aye… Kay’Lo… the fuck?”
Footsteps came rushin’ in behind us.
Pressure’s voice came slow and calm. “‘Lo… nigga put that shit down.”
Renza stood behind him lookin’ nervous but ready to grab whoever.
Toni stood by the hallway with her hands over her mouth. Her eyes looked like she broke in half.
But I wasn’t focused on nobody except Blaqson.
He stared at me with disbelief. “You really gon’ pull a gun on me? Me, nigga? I’m yo’ fuckin’ boy.”
“Nah,” I said with a cold tone that sounded like it came from someplace dark. “You a nigga in my kitchen talkin’ to my wife. That’s what you are.”
Pressure stepped closer. “‘Lo… look at me.”
I didn’t.
I kept the gun right where it was.
Blaqson shook his head slow. “You lost yo’ fuckin’ mind, bro. You really lost it.”
“Nah,” I said again. “I just don’t play ‘bout what’s mine. And if you think I won’t let you have this shit, you stupid as fuck.”
Pressure moved right next to me now. “Kay’Lo… Put. It. Down.”
It took everything in me not to snap at him too. I felt like the world was closin’ in on me, like everybody was tryna push me into a space I didn’t fit in.
Blaqson finally exhaled and looked at Pressure.
“Out of respect for you… I’m gon’ move around.
But that nigga right there?” He pointed at me.
“He ain’t ever gotta worry ‘bout me speakin’ to him again.
And you”—he looked at Toni—“you cool, but I’m done bein’ nice to a nigga who pull a gun on family. ”
That set me off again. “That set me off again. “Nigga, you still talkin’ to my muthafuckin’ wife?”
Blaqson opened his mouth like he was about to say somethin’ else, and that’s when I clicked my shit back loud enough for the room to freeze.
Toni gasped, “Kay’Lo! Stop!” and tried to grab my arm, but I snatched it away without even lookin’ at her.
“Didn’t I JUST tell you not to fuckin’ speak to her?” I said, my voice raw, and the gun raised higher now. “Say somethin’ else to her. I dare you.”
Pressure put a hand out without touchin’ me, like a warnin’ that he would end all this shit if I stepped wrong.
Blaqson walked past all of us, grabbed his keys and slammed the front door when he left.
Toni looked at me with pain all over her face, shook her head and walked off without sayin’ a word.
I tucked my gun back in my waist, walked right past Pressure and Renza like nothin’ happened and went back outside to the spades table.
Right now, I ain’t give a fuck about who felt some type of way.