Chapter 9
TATUM
“I thought you said you changed the locks?”
If looks could kill, my family would be collecting T-shirts with my face on them and half the bourbon in Kentucky for a weekend-long funeral in my honor between the daggers I was getting from Aurora and Monty.
Bitch ass nigga.
I suppressed the, mighty, urge to smirk at him, choosing instead to focus on Aurora.
Hair all over her head, crust in her eyes, a bit of dried drool at the corner of her mouth.
Pretty ass.
“I…” she stammered, looking back and forth between me and Monty. “How about… maybe we should… Let’s just take a moment?—”
“For what?” I asked, fully sitting up. I’d gone from peacefully sleeping off the filth we’d engaged in last night to waking up to her ex-fiancé fucking up the vibe.
Clearly uninvited.
So…
“Answer the question, sweetheart?—”
“Sweetheart?” Monty grumbled, but I still didn’t give him the satisfaction of my attention.
I was focused on her.
“Did he break in, or did you lie about changing the locks?”
Her lack of alarm, and the way she wrinkled her nose, told me everything.
“We’ll discuss your punishment later,” I told her, making her eyes go wide as I kissed her temple. They went wider when I exited the bed, dick saluting the world, to head to the bathroom, making sure to look Monty right in his eyes on the way.
Whether or not she actually changed the locks didn’t matter.
She hadn’t invited him here right now.
That was certain.
Ol’ boy was being an asshole. Little did he know, I had no problem matching that energy. I could gladly go bar for bar if that was the way he wanted to do it.
I left the door half open.
Ill-mannered, maybe, but I was making a point, and wanted the easy access just in case he decided to get stupid with Rori. She’d never given me any clues or signs about him getting violent with her in any way, but from the look on his face, he was clearly bothered by what he’d walked into.
If he decided to hop out of character I wanted to be ready to pop his ass right back into it.
I was washing my hands when Rori showed up at the bathroom doorway, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “So about me changing those locks,” she started, and I chuckled.
“It sounded good to you in the moment, and you wanted me to think you were a tough girl,” I offered, grinning at her.
“Obviously,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”
“For lying, or him interrupting our sleep to fuck up the vibe? Am I still not about to get my pussy for breakfast?”
“Oh, my God.”
“I’m dead ass serious,” I told her, and she blew out a sigh.
“I’m sorry for both,” she said. “And as far as pussy for breakfast… I don’t know.”
I stepped closer. “Did he buy this condo for you?” I asked, and the look on her face once again was answering questions for her. I nodded. “So it would be real disrespectful if I took you in the kitchen and ate your pussy in front of him, huh?” I questioned.
“Tatum!”
“It’s just a question,” I replied.
“Yes, it would,” she answered, shaking her head. “And how do you even know he’s still here?”
“Because you put clothes on,” I said, gesturing at the T-shirt and shorts she was wearing now. “If it was just us, you wouldn’t feel like you needed that.”
“I’m not usually naked at home,” she defended.
“Maybe not,” I countered. “But you would have wanted me to know you were down for whatever I was down for. You may have put the shirt on, but you definitely wouldn’t be in those shorts,” I observed.
She rolled her eyes, but stayed quiet.
“And besides that,” I continued. “He doesn’t seem like the type to get the point on the first go around… or even the second, third, whatever. Y’all been together too long. He ain’t gonna drop it that easy. He loves you, and he’s not trying to let go.”
She still didn’t say anything, which was clearly, at this point, her preferred way of letting me know I was right.
Or rather, that she didn’t have a good counter-argument she cared to articulate.
“You want me to come talk to him with you?” I asked.
She immediately shook her head at that. “No. At least I don’t think so,” she amended. “I’m not even sure what he’s doing here. There’s nothing else for us to talk about.”
“Somebody probably saw us together yesterday, so he came to check the temperature. He didn’t think I’d be here, because he doesn’t believe you’re done yet for real.”
She blew out a sigh. “Of course he doesn’t. And it doesn’t help that his key still works.”
“He already knew the key would work,” I chuckled. “He always knew the damn key would still work, because it ain’t that easy for you to just drop it either. Your first love? Come on, Rori.”
“Ugh,” she groaned. “Okay. I gotta go get this over with. Again, I’m sorry,” she said. “This isn’t how I expected us to spend our morning.”
I shrugged. “Me either, but that’s not on you. It’ll take the time it takes. And after that, everybody will move on.”
“Right,” She nodded. “I’m gonna go…”
She didn’t finish that statement.
Just dipped out, presumably to where Monty was waiting.
Even though she said she didn’t need me available—or didn’t think she needed me available—I decided it was probably for the best to be prepared anyway.
Which was how I quickly realized I was missing my boxers. My thoughts went first to that little moment out on her balcony.
Heh.
It was really about to piss Monty off when I went out there dick swinging to grab them.
But then, level-headedness reigned, and I remembered I hadn’t actually taken my pants off out there, just yanked everything down to get straight into it. I only got naked once we were indoors.
Damn.
Lost opportunity.
As—bad—luck would have it, my boxers were hiding right under the bed the whole time.
I had an overnight bag in my vehicle from making the drive, but I hadn’t been presumptuous enough to bring it upstairs last night… Well, yesterday, when I was supposed to be dropping her off. I knew we’d have a good time together, but had made no assumptions about where my popping up would lead.
Only preparations.
Once I had that in hand, I’d take a shower, but for the moment, my goal was still to be ready for whatever Monty might try to pull. I was almost there when my phone started buzzing on the nightstand.
Once I moved over to where it was, I frowned at the name and face on the screen.
“Tammy-Rae, what’s up?” I asked, noting the time.
My sister was a night owl, and as such, wasn’t even usually awake at this time of morning.
“Hey Tate,” she yawned. “I’m just trying to get to you before one of your brothers does,” she said, a comment that made me frown, confused.
“One of my….” A moment later, though, it clicked. “Ay, there’s not too many more times that nigga’s gonna mess with you without me just coming to handle it. As a matter of fact, no more times. I’m getting on a plane.”
“That is not what I called you for.”
“What is Tim saying? Trey?” I asked.
She sucked her teeth. “You know what they’re saying. And what I’m saying is that Joshua’s ass is not worth the bullshit. You’re in the freaking pro league, and I’m not gonna have you getting in trouble over him.”
“So what the fuck did you call me for?”
“Like I said, getting to you before Tim and Trey hype you into violence with them. I’m hoping you can help me talk some sense into them.”
“They wouldn’t need any sense talked into them if Joshua’s bitch ass would leave you alone. You haven’t even been around, you were up here with me until yesterday morning. What did he do?”
“It’s not even that serious.”
“Tam…”
“Ughhh! I was at Idlewild late, closing up?—”
Immediately, my shoulders went tense. “You were at the bar late by yourself?”
“No, Kerry and Mai were there too.”
Good.
Kerry was security, big as fuck and kept a gun on his hip. Nobody fucked with him.
“Can I finish telling the story?” Tam asked, and I sighed.
“Go ahead.”
“When we were leaving, I came outside to some bitch tearing up my car.”
“What do you mean, tearing up your car?”
“Slashing tires, keys… The usual shit.”
“And how is this related to Joshua?”
She huffed. “Well, like I said, I caught her. Beat her ass, because I don’t even fucking know this trick, so it’s not like I did something to her.”
“So you were fighting, but I can’t?!”
“It was my car.”
“You could’ve let Kerry handle it.”
“Nah, I didn’t need any help, I had it. Besides, Kerry was the one who pulled me off of her. He threatened her to say who put her up to it or he’d let me loose again.”
“And it was Joshua.”
“Yeah.”
I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Tam, I’m really trying to understand why and how you don’t feel like this is a big deal.”
“Because I already beat her ass. She’s gonna pay for my shit. And that’s just it. Making a big deal of it, getting all riled up, all of that… It only lets him know that he’s rankling me.”
“Not just you!” I declared. “It makes the rest of us look like a joke if he can fuck with you without consequence.”
“Makes the rest of us look like a joke? Nigga, we are not the fucking mafia,” she laughed.
“I’m not saying all that,” I chuckled. “But you telling me our Daddy’s name don’t mean shit around there anymore?”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying.”
“Okay, it sounds a lot like what you’re saying.”
“Okay, and I’m telling you it’s not,” she insisted. “I’m saying that… Joshua was family. He’s just having a hard time coming to terms with the divorce, accepting that we’re done.”
“Yeah, that seems to be too much of a common thread around me. Motherfuckers don’t want to do right, then wanna act shocked and surprised when you stop going along with it,” I snapped.
“Ohhhh,” Tam laughed. “You’re all up in arms because of Monty Rudolph, aren’t you? Rori isn’t letting you kick his ass , so you’re looking for somebody to take it out on?”
“It’s not about aspiring to be violent,” I explained. “It’s about wanting to make a point with these niggas before something like what happened with Aunt Adele happens,” I reminded her.
She was quiet for a moment, then agreed. “…Yeah.”
Some years ago, our aunt, our mother’s sister, had gotten married to what seemed, by all accounts, a really good guy. He wasn’t from the area, so nobody knew his history, but he’d been around a little bit before he got involved with Adele. So, people had grown to know him, and nobody had anything to say that wasn’t good.
Adele was a jovial woman. Loud and happy, always ready to have a drink or light something up. Cook a big meal, play cards, go mud bogging, line dancing.
Whatever you were down for, she was too.
But then, after they were married, little by little, she wasn’t around as much. And when she was around, he was too, which meant we actually got to know him for real.
Stuffy ass dude.
Just a little too buttoned-up, and rubbing off on her too. Her wild outfits, trendy hairstyles, all that, just… started fading.
And there were rumors.
About women.
And there was… a vibe.
The kind of vibe that had us always asking Adele if she was good.
And she swore she was.
But she stopped coming around.
And then one day she called my mom, crying. When my mom got to her, she looked like she’d had a run-in with the wrong end of a bullwhip.
But nope, just that fucking husband of hers.
She begged us not to retaliate.
And the only reason we didn’t was because she agreed to get rid of him, and she did.
She asked for the divorce, tried to move on.
Didn’t bother pressing charges, just asked to be left alone.
But that wasn’t good enough for his ass, nope. He would show up unannounced when she was alone, scaring her. Paraded women around town to embarrass her, knowing he was avoiding the divorce papers, shit like that.
But then one day, he got a little too bold.
Showed up at the stables where she hosted riding lessons, our family property, which we’d made clear he wasn’t allowed on.
Called himself snatching her up.
So, me, my brothers and dad showed up at his door.
And we made a fucking point.
He never did sign those divorce papers, but Adele never had to see him again, so she called it a win. She never quite got back to herself, though.
I wouldn’t watch Joshua do the same shit to my sister.
His only saving grace was that he’d never put his hands on her.
Yet.
“Listen, Tater… I get it, okay?” Tam said, pulling my attention away from my thoughts, back to our conversation. “But you know me. I will shoot his ass.”
I scoffed. “Yeah, and he knows that shit too, and yet…”
“I will make it clear to him that he’s on the verge of setting y’all off,” Tam promised. “But seriously… y’all have to let me handle it in my own way.”
“This is the last time I’m letting it go. After that, it’s on him.”
Tam pushed out a sigh. “Fine. Fair enough. I’m going back to sleep.”
“Keep your head on a swivel,” I told her before exchanging goodbyes.
Just in time to hear Monty’s raised voice.
I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it didn’t matter. Who the fuck was he raising his voice at?
I was at the kitchen doorway before I could even think about it much, glancing around to absorb the scene in front of me.
Rori on one side of the counter, arms crossed, looking annoyed.
Monty on the other side, pissed.
“Goddamn, can I speak with my fiancée in peace, without your big ass lurking?” he snapped, in that same elevated, extra-bass tone that made me take a few more steps into the kitchen.
“Nah.” I shrugged. “You can’t. Now what?” I asked.
“Nigga, why are you even here? This doesn’t involve you.”
I smirked. “Now… you know damn well why I’m here. Look at her fine ass,” I said, gesturing at Rori, who groaned.
“Can we please just… not?”
Monty and I both looked at her.
“Only one of you is here by invitation,” she continued. “Tatum, obviously. Monty… I am not your fiancée, or anything else anymore, and there’s seriously nothing more for us to talk about. Doesn’t the mother of your child need you for something?”
The mention of that seemed to stagger him a little. His aggressive stance softened a bit as he turned fully toward her.
“You know she’s trying to be an influencer, right? She wants to use BabyBee,” he said. “But she didn’t know if it would be kinda disres?—”
“Okay fuck you,” Rori snapped to interrupt, laughing maniacally. “She wasn’t concerned that fucking you, talking about fucking you, sending blogs proof she was fucking you, giving the media embarrassing videos of me devastated over you…. none of that was disrespectful? But using the app created for pregnancy and postpartum… that’s where she’s concerned she’d be crossing a line with me? You sure know how to pick ‘em, huh?”
Monty huffed. “It’s not like that. She admires you! She’s a programming major at?—”
“Please shut up, oh my God,” Rori shrieked, fingers at her temples. “Everything out of your mouth is just worse and worse, dumber and dumber! She doesn’t admire me, she is trying to wear my skin on her skin, are you dumb?” she snapped, then laughed. “Yes, actually. That’s my answer. You are dumb and so is your side bitch, and I cannot believe I felt a little empathy for you about this break up. Because I am dumb too. Clearly!”
“Rori—”
“Shut the fuck up!” she actually screamed this time, fists clenched like it was taking everything in her not to fly at him and go into attack. “Do not say another stupid word to me about your stupid stalker girlfriend, and get your stupid ass out of my home.”
“But—”
“If you say another fucking thing, I am going to let Tatum kick your ass.” She smiled, then looked at me, and I nodded confirmation that I would absolutely do exactly that. I was itching to, actually. “And he won’t even get in trouble for it because you are not supposed to be here. You broke in.”
Monty scoffed. “I didn’t break in; I used my key.”
Rori smirked, stomping around the counter to get to where he was standing. She stuck her hand in his pocket, pulling out his keys. She had the exact one off before anybody else processed what she was doing.
“No, you didn’t,” she said. “Because you don’t have a key to my place. Go.”
“You think I’m scared of his big ass?” he challenged, glaring at me.
“Maybe not,” Rori shrugged. “But maybe he’s going to give special attention to things that tear rotator cuffs and Achilles, and I wonder how many bitches you’ll get when you’re riding the bench and not bringing in all-star endorsement money anymore? Does Yams want to be the baby mama of a sports podcaster? Is that what your next move will be, Monty?”
Monty’s mouth dropped. “That’s foul, and you know it.”
“Fucking choke on it,” she quipped back, shoving him.
He didn’t move from her shove, but he got the point.
“This isn’t finished,” he declared, then finally started making his way to the door.
“Oh, it really is,” I said, trailing behind. “I’m not a fan of these games. She’s over it.”
“You have no idea who she is,” Monty replied, facing me, his words laced with an air of defiance. “And you don’t know me. This ain’t the football field, nigga, no rules about decorum, none of that. What’s keeping me off your ass right now?”
“Common sense, clearly,” I chuckled. “Since you still haven’t done shit to me, like you would’ve already if you were really about that. But I see what you’ve done to her,” I said, gesturing over my shoulder. “The whole world has, and you don’t even have the decency to let her move on.”
“I’m trying to fix it!”
“Too fucking late,” I said, glaring at him.
Daring him to do shit.
For a moment, he matched my gaze, then must’ve thought better of it. “Whatever,” he grumbled, opening the door. “Rori, I’ll—what the fu?—”
He didn’t get to finish his bullshit.
I mushed him over the threshold and closed the door behind him.
“Tatum!” Rori scolded, while Monty was ranting and raving on the other side of the door, knocking like he was the fucking cops.
“Hmm?” I asked, already heading back to the kitchen. “Ignore him, and come on bring your ass on in here for breakfast.”