Chapter 14 Goon
GOON
Zoya finally came out her bedroom with her bags packed like I had asked. I half expected her to give me some shit or an excuse as to why she couldn’t come with me. She stood there while staring at me, like she was reconsidering not going.
I could see how hesitant she was in her eyes. She was searching for every reason that she needed to not go. She sat her duffle bag onto the counter and then looked around for Bando.
“Where’s my dog?”
“Upstairs. Navy said she would watch him this weekend.”
She looked back at me. “I have a dog sitter. I could call he—”
I took her hand and snatched her duffle bag from the counter. “Bando is being watched, stop worrying about doing shit because for the first time you didn’t have to do something.”
“I don’t like it.”
“Probably taste like poison on the tongue.”
She smiled. “Yes. Can I know where we’re going?”
“Nah.”
“Gerald, I have anxiety. I have to know where I’m going… will I be able to do my skincare?”
I paused while she continued to go down her skincare routine, which was too fucking much if you asked me. “Boobie, why the fuck would I take you camping?”
“Gerald, I don’t know… isn’t prison kind of like camping?”
I pinched her ass, and she yelped, while I pulled her behind me. “Bring yo ass on.”
“Wait, I need my nighttime emotional support cup.” She rushed back in and went into a cabinet that had about thirty-five fucking cups. They were all stacked neatly, and color coordinated.
Out of all the cups she could have grabbed, she snatched a thermos cup with faded yellow ducks on it. The cup looked like it had to be at least twenty years old. I watched as she shoved it into her bag and then shut the lights off.
Zoya’s ass would never say it, but she seemed pretty damn excited to be going with me. I held her duffle bag, as she walked beside me. Taking her hand into mine, she looked up at me.
“Ready to spend the weekend with me?”
“What do you have under your sleeve, Gerald? Menace’s weird ass tracks all of us… just letting you know.”
“I bet he does.”
Soon as valet saw me, he dipped off to bring my truck around. When he pulled it around, Zoya let out a low whistle.
“This shit is beautiful,” she muttered.
The black-on-black Cadillac Escalade with the chrome and black Forgiato rims stood there, being the showstopper that it was. Everything from the paint, rims, and the tints were black as shit. I held the door open for my Queen, and she climbed in while admiring everything about the interior.
Tipping valet, I put her bag into the back seat next to mine.
I handled all my business earlier today because I knew her stubborn ass was going away with me.
There was no question that she would be with me over the weekend.
I was prepared to argue with her ass, as long as she was in the front seat of this truck.
“I’ve never had an Escalade on my list of cars, but I may need to reconsider.” She continued to touch the wood grain.
I held onto the back of her seat as I backed up, and maneuvered around the car in front of us, before pulling away from the building. Traffic in the city always blew me, and I was counting the seconds until I was over the bridge and out of Manhattan.
Brooklyn would always be home for me.
“You gotta make me a promise before we get to our destination.”
“I cannot make promises without knowing our destination.” I remained quiet and looked over at her briefly. “Fine. What is the stupid promise?”
“No work this weekend, Boobie. I respect that you have a career and you’re a busy woman. Love that shit about you, but you’ve made not taking a break and resetting a habit. Never giving yourself some rest without that phone glued to you.”
I admired the Casellis because they worked hard when they never had to. Their family was so rich that they never had to work a day in their life. Money would just accumulate, and they would forever be set.
Menace made sure of that shit.
“That’s a hard ask.”
I looked over at her again. “Not for someone that wants to give you the world.”
Zoya blushed, as she looked away. She tried to focus her attention out the window, as if I didn’t have her feeling all light and airy.
“Can I use the ride to check in on clients and put my email vacation responder on?” She looked back at me.
“Do whatever you need to. I need to handle something before we get on the road… ight?”
Recommendation: Listen to Bonnie & Shyne by Shyne
“You’ve already kidnapped me… do I even have a say?”
“Nah.”
She pulled out her laptop from her Dior tote and got comfortable in the front seat. I watched as she pulled out a pair of black prescription glasses as I maneuvered the city blocks, headed toward the Brooklyn bridge.
I pressed a button and the sunroof pulled back, and she looked over at me briefly with a smile on her face. It was like her mental was working against what she wanted. Happiness wasn’t something familiar to her, and she was trying to figure out how she felt.
To be smiling for no reason was new for her.
Traffic was thick getting onto the bridge.
That last bit of summer sun was beating down on us, as the vendors on the side of the bridge were selling anything related to loving New York City.
Tourists posted up taking pictures with the bridge in their background, while those native to the city were either getting their steps in, or in the rush somewhere.
I never minded traffic.
It was a reminder to stop and enjoy the moment. Life was always happening around us, and that shit moved quickly. Sitting in traffic was a small reminder that the world could be still.
In a world where we were conditioned to always rush, or always be doing something, sitting our asses in traffic wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. Shit, for me, I appreciated all the small moments because it was my first time acknowledging these things.
When I should have been enjoying the small moments of life, I was too focused on making a way for me and my family. Growing up way before I should have, I never got to experience going to prom or graduating from high school.
Niggas loved to push school, but that shit wasn’t feeding me and my family. School didn’t keep the lights on, or make sure that rent was stuffed in that white envelope every first of the month.
“Not used to you being so quiet,” Boobie brought me from my thoughts, right as traffic started to move, and we slowly entered the bridge.
“Just thinking about how this shit is all a blessing.”
“Driving across the bridge, Gerald?”
She didn’t understand.
It wasn’t her fault though. She didn’t understand because she had never been in my shoes, and I never wanted her to be.
When your fresh air, sun, and will was snatched from you, you appreciated everything.
Zoya was on the other side of things. She was the one fighting to keep her clients out of prison.
At the end of the day, she didn’t have to step behind that wall and witness the life that you lived being behind it.
“Look up for me,” I instructed.
She slowly lifted her head and watched as the bars on the bridge bypassed to the next one like a child on monkey bars, as I sped across the bridge. The cool air whipped across the top of our heads, as the lights on the bridge started to come on.
The sun was slowly reminding us that it had to set, so the sky was the perfect mix of daylight and early evening. The shit looked like something out of a picture book, with the pinks and oranges merging together like watercolors on a canvas. It reminded me of a peach.
Her hair blew in the wind as she closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel in this moment.
That laptop on her lap wasn’t a concern right now.
Instead, she was allowing the air to kiss her face while listening to the music blare from the car’s speakers.
She felt the truck floating across the bridge while her eyes remained closed.
We bypassed the welcome to Brooklyn sign, and it instantly gave me air in my lungs.
“You gonna open your eyes, Boobie?”
Her body slightly jolted, as if she forgot where she was for a second. I looked between her and the road, as she slowly opened her eyes. Her eyes were watery, and she quickly checked herself before I could address it.
I noticed and stored it in my memory bank for later. Everything about Zoya was a mystery to me. As much as I studied and learned about her from far, she was still someone tough to figure out.
Like a Rubix cube that you knew you could solve, but you weren’t quite sure how you were going to do it.
Not going to front, the thought of peeling back her layers intimidated me. Not because I was afraid, but because I didn’t want to get this wrong. I didn’t want to be another added name to her burn list.
“Sorry… I don’t know why I couldn’t open my eyes.”
“You was feeling that shit.”
She smiled at me. “Sorry.”
“Bout what?”
She remained quiet. “I don’t know.”
It came out like a whisper, like she was still trying to put the pieces together and figure out how she felt.
Reaching over, I grabbed her hand and pulled it toward my mouth, kissing the back of it a few times, while looking over at her. “Never have to apologize for feeling with me, Zoya.”
She shook off everything she was feeling and looked over at me. Just like that, she had put that guard back up.
“Where are we going?”
“Stopping by my mom’s block to check on her before we head out.”
Zoya snatched her hand back and stared at me with her arms folded. “You’re taking me to your mother’s house?”
“Yeah. Kind of have to do that when you check on someone.”
“Gerald, seriously? She doesn’t want to meet some stranger.”
I chuckled. “You not a stranger, Boobie.”
Zoya paused and then she gasped, slapping her hand to her mouth. “You did tell her about my periods. Gerald, you want to keep me panicked, huh?”
I winked. “You locked in with Paulette.”