Chapter 5 #2
Even when they put me back with gen pop, I never saw him again. Back then, I assumed that he was moved to another part of the prison. The thought of him being an undercover cop wasn’t even a thought.
“And he can’t be touched?” Don clarified.
He had that same look that his brother had in his eyes. Although he was cooly smoking a black, I could see the danger swirling in his eyes with his thoughts.
“According to Forty, not right now.”
It was killing me that this nigga was running around here banging, while being an undercover cop. Then he had the nerve to possibly be a serial killer. I say possibly because I wasn’t convinced that he was.
Despite that tough ass act he liked to present, his ass wasn’t running around here murdering women.
I remember when I grabbed him around the neck in prison, and he fucking squealed.
So much was happening at the time, but I heard that shit loud and clear.
Then again, I saw the shit that he had stored in that box.
“Having a serial killer as your ex would have you on edge,” he replied calmly, continuing to pull from his black and mild.
I looked at him, not saying a word. Zoya made me promise not to tell her brother. She begged me to allow her to tell him because it needed to come from her, no one else. I granted that to her because if she didn’t do it soon, I was going to tell Menace during our chat.
“She told you?”
“Nah. Hacked into her security system before she moved.”
“Shit creepy, you know that, right?”
Don laughed. “Zoya usually goes through her shit alone. That, I know, and I’ve respected that. She had been off, and I couldn’t put my finger on it. Work has always been stressful, and she handles that shit with ease. I don’t just drop in on my sisters on some regular shit.”
“Maybe she’s not handling that shit with ease, eh?” I looked at Don, and he nodded his head in agreement.
“I hear it. Always used to her handling shit and never needing someone. Zoy is always straight when I ask.”
“Should have been a red flag right there. Nobody is always good. I could tell from looking at her whenever I see her that she’s not good.”
Don looked over at me. “You agree with her keeping this from Menace?”
“She trusted me enough and felt safe enough to call me. Boobie ain’t the type that willingly calls for help, and she called me.
I respect you and Menace, I do, but when it comes to her, I’m running behind her.
” Bando came over toward me with the ball, and I tossed it.
“You’re about to become a husband and I know there ain’t no limit to what you’ll do for Navy. ”
“For sure. Protecting her and her family is all I think about.” he admitted. “Never understood what Menace meant when he said he stays up thinking about ways to keep Stevie safe… I get that shit now.”
“Then you know how I’m running behind your sister. She don’t even gotta say a word, I’m coming. This not some smash and pass bullshit… I’m pursuing her with a purpose. I’m changing that last name from Caselli.”
“I hear you.”
“Real talk, need you to understand and respect that I’m not going to come running to you or Menace when it comes to her. I handle my business too, especially about that one.”
“I can respect that.” He held his hand out and dapped me up. “Will Menace, I don’t know.”
“Nigga better be cool before I stir up his mash potatoes.”
“Jokes on you, nigga don’t eat starch soup.”
“What?”
He waved his hands. “Don’t worry about it.”
We sat in the park for a little bit before Aimee called him and reminded him that they had brunch plans.
Aimee was interning as a cyber specialist for the FBI.
It wasn’t a job or internship that was easily granted.
She had to interview like everyone else and go through a shit ton of background checks.
Corleon padded her resume to make it look like all her past experiences was legit.
Bando still had some energy when we got off the elevator. I took his leash off and raced him down the hallway, smoking his fat ass in the process. He sat at the door, as I opened it.
Boobie was sitting at the counter when we entered. She was changed into a pair of leggings and cropped shirt, and her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail. We had been gone for a minute, so she did have enough time to shower and shit before we came back.
“Good morning,” I greeted, and sat his leash on the foyer table.
She looked at me and didn’t speak. Instead, she started to pet Bando, while purposely ignoring me. I washed my hands and grabbed a drink from the fridge while she continued with the silent treatment she was giving me.
My moms was the type that loved silence in the morning, so I respected that.
I had a celly that required the same thing, so I knew how to pivot to other people’s needs and requirements.
I was a first-born son, so I was used to compromising and reading the room.
While I was the type that was ready to have a conversation first thing in the morning, everybody wasn’t built like that.
Everybody wasn’t me.
I leaned on the back counter while taking a sip of the green drink she had in the fridge. “Not a morning person?”
Zoya looked me dead in my eyes and still didn’t say a word.
I nodded my head and continued to lean on the counter, wondering when the fuck she was going to speak. In Barbados, I noticed she was quieter in the morning but didn’t think nothing into it.
“What the fuck was last night?” Her tone was icy.
Shit was so cold that she could freeze this nasty ass green drink that I was babysitting.
“Personal business, Boobie.”
She removed herself from the counter. “I’m a fucking defense attorney, Gerald. What if that shit went wrong and I was caught up in that shit? You had a gun to that man’s head in broad daylight.”
“Yo ass was high because it was fucking nighttime. And yeah, I would have pulled that trigger too.”
I didn’t like that I wasn’t in control of my actions or emotions last night. I allowed Peso’s frail ass to bring me out of myself. I prided myself on the discipline that I had worked on through the years.
When it came to my baby cousin, Ramelle, I couldn’t control myself. I couldn’t practice discipline because that shit was still sore for me.
I couldn’t protect him.
“Yeah, I can’t do this street shit… I’m not going to end up in some shit because you can’t control yourself.”
Chuckling, I looked at her. “Yet, you were letting that bum ass nigga fuck on you. He be in those same ass streets. Faking that shit, but he still in those same streets. Don’t do that.”
I tossed the half-filled bottle into the trash, and she rushed over to grab it. “Empty all bottles before the trash.” She raised her voice at me, triggered, because I tossed the bottle into the trash with juice still in it.
Her body language was tense as she unscrewed the bottle top and emptied it into the sink. Once she was done, she started to scrub the green juice from the sink, and clean out the bottle.
“What the fuck is this really about?” I had been raised around women my entire life, so I was smart enough to know that this didn’t come from nowhere.
“Don’t fucking curse at me.”
“You just fucking cursed at me!” I hollered back.
She paused and put her hand onto her hips. “I don’t have time for this… Gerald, you were my client and that is where this story starts and ends. We can never be anything because we’re too different.”
“Too different… yeah.” I repeated.
She refused to look at me. “You can leave.”
“Zoya, you so fucking stubborn, you know that?”
I watched as she handed Bando a treat and he trotted over toward his dog bed. “You don’t have to deal with it.”
“You right… I don’t have to deal with anything. I want to deal with everything that comes with you, Boobie. Yesterday, I fucked up. I let shit get out of control, but wanna know what stopped me?”
“What?” she asked, her arms folded, making sure she remained back from me. My touch would send her into overload, so she had to remain at a distance.
That was cool with me though. I didn’t need her next to me to say how I felt, and what her voice did to me.
“Your voice stopped me from making a mistake last night. I thought about you and leaving you this time. Each time I was locked up, I thought about my family and how I was letting them down again. Not this time, it was you that I was worried about letting down.”
“You promised me that I wouldn’t have to visit you behind bars again… fucking promised me, Gerald.” She slammed her hands onto the granite countertop.
“Stop cursing at me.”
“You promised.” She lowered her voice. “Why the fuck would you do some shit like that? Who knows who recorded what?”
I took a breath and walked closer to her.
She backed up against the counter, as I stood over her, taking her chin in my hand so she could stare up into my eyes.
“I said I’m sorry. I apologize for putting you in that situation and you got my word that I’d never put you in that situation again… word to Sharon.”
That wasn’t enough for her.
I could tell in her eyes she was used to making things difficult. A man apologizing to her, trying to make it right was all new to her. She was used to the toxic and arguing because it led to makeup sex.
“That’s not fucking good enough.” She shoved away from me, and went to the other side of the counter.
“Then make it enough, Zoya. The fuck you want me to do? Get on the floor and beg for your forgiveness?
She folded her arms like that was what she wanted me to do. I’d do anything for Boobie, but I wasn’t about to beg her forgiveness for a situation she knew nothing about.
“I don’t have to do a damn thing for you, Gerald. I said it’s not enough for me… you’re fucking dismissed.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yes. Leave… need me to spell it out for you.”
I chuckled. “Yo mouth fire, eh?”
“Doesn’t fucking matter what my mouth is… we’re not together. We need to stop whatever we think this shit is just because we have mutual friends. That doesn’t mean we need to be together. I’m dating someone anyway.”
“And your choice of men is so solid… who the fuck is he? The fucking boogie man.”
“He’s not a fucking felon.” she shot back.
“Nah, just a nigga that used you to get to your brother.” I responded, wanting to hurt her just as much as she thought she was hurting me.
Something switched when I saw the hurt in her eyes, and I felt like shit.
“Boob—”
“Get the fuck out my house, Goon!” She raised her voice.
“Bet.”
I remained leaned on the counter and nodded my head before leaning up and heading toward the door. Bando stood up and started to walk toward me. “Bed, now!”
“So, my son can’t say bye to his father now?”
Zoya looked at me like I was crazy. “Leave, now.”
I turned and headed toward the door with her right behind me. She held the door all the way open and watched me. Pulling my key fob from my sweats, I scanned it on the door across the hall.
“I’ll be back to walk my son around five.” I opened the door to my condo, and the look on her face was one of pure shock.
"What h—"
“Aye, bring a nigga to that door and I’m blowing this whole floor down… feel me? Ain’t no fucking leaving me, Zoya.”
“I’m not even with you!” she hollered, frustrated because she couldn’t have the satisfaction of me walking down to the elevator while she watched me.
After I convinced her ass to move out her new house, she decided to move into Don’s building. As much as I wanted to be everywhere she was, the reality was that I couldn’t be there.
Knowing she was secure in this building with her brother on the top floor put my mind at ease. When I came to handle some business with Don, he told me about the condo that was for sale across from Zoya’s.
Said that he was gonna purchase it and knock out the wall to hers and expand it for her. I told his ass he wouldn’t do no such shit, because I was buying that bitch. Our bedrooms were wall to wall, so I could lay down and sleep knowing that her ass was over there alone.
Expensive ass condo set me back some, but money was straight. My family was taken care of, and I wasn’t the kind of nigga that splurged on much. I was a simple man and could get by with what I had.
That’s the reason I was sleeping in the spare room in my mom’s apartment.
Just because I had the money, didn’t make me feel the need to go crazy with it.
I was pursuing a woman who was used to the finer things in life, and her brothers made sure of that.
As much as Kora and Zoya worked hard and had careers of their own, Menace made sure his sisters were taken care of.
That was why he didn’t want anybody with them.
They were used to a certain kind of man, and while I came from the hood and grew up with a single mother teetering on the line of public assistance, I knew I was the kind of man that Zoya needed in her life.
This money I was stacking was for her, and her only.
I wanted her to spend my money like it was running away from her. Spoil her because that shit hit different when it came from a nigga that was filling you up with dick. Filling her pockets and womb was my only agenda.
If Allah granted it, then we would have a beautiful home with my moms living with us. Helping us to raise our kids, while she continued to break necks in the courtroom. I never wanted to change the woman that she was.
Just heal her.