42. Isaac
42
Isaac
The pounding on the door made Dawn’s eyes go wide.
“You got warrants?”
I ignored that and walked to the door. I had a feeling Zay would show up, but I didn’t expect her to bang on my shit like the police. Which she was, I guess, so she got a pass.
“Hey, beautiful.”
Her top lip curled. “I just have one question.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Who the fuck was that in the background when I called you?”
I chuckled at that. “Come inside, baby.”
“Is she in there?”
“Yeah. It’s not what you think.”
She pushed past me, stopping short when she saw her. Dawn stood and nodded at Zay, smiling blandly instead of her usual sultry.
Zay turned to me. “I’m listening.”
“This is Dawn,” I said slowly, like I was talking down a shooter. “She’s an old friend. Dawn, this is Zay. She’s the one I was telling you about.”
“Oh, okay. She’s cute. Hi.”
Zay looked her up and down, then turned back to me. “An old friend? And why were you talking about me? What did you say?”
“Give me a second.” I nodded at Dawn.
“Here’s my contact info,” she said, handing me a sheet of paper. “Hit me up whenever. I’m in and out of town, but we’ll make time for this.”
I didn’t walk her to the door. I’m reckless sometimes, but I ain’t stupid.
“What the hell is going on?” Zay demanded.
“Dawn has a motorcycle club. They’re starting to do charity work, and we were brainstorming about how they could help with your project. Like getting young folks interested in riding, automotive, and all that good shit.”
She snatched the paper from me and stared down at it. That's when I noticed her hands were shaking.
Clearly, she was pissed.
“Yall fucked?”
“Yes, Zay. We fucked. I never had feelings for her.”
“I don’t know if that’s better or worse.”
“I hope you didn’t think I was cheating on you.”
She tossed the paper on the floor and pushed me in the chest. It was light, but I knew she meant it.
“I didn’t know what to think, and you didn’t call back, so…”
“I apologize. When you said you’d call back, I took that at face value.”
“But you know I don’t do anything at face value.”
I laughed, which only seemed to make her more upset.
“So, I should read your mind?”
“You should know me. You should know I would freak out hearing some strange bitch’s voice in the background of our phone call.”
I hid my smile. “You’re right. I’m sorry. But you have to know I have no interest in her beyond what she can do for you.”
“Why not? She’s cute.”
“Okay. Every woman I’ve messed with is cute.”
Her sunny face darkened.
“I didn’t mean it like that. Shit. I’m fucking this up. What I mean is, cute ain’t enough. I wouldn’t make a woman my woman for cute. It takes more than that.”
“You’re full of shit, Isaac.”
“I didn’t touch her, Zay, I swear.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean the fact that you’re moving and didn’t say shit to me.”
“Wait—“
“I read the fucking report. You submitted a change of address to them, and you didn’t say a word to me. How can I trust you if you hide shit from me?”
“Baby, I was gonna tell you. Everything happened fast. Look, I got in there and lied my ass off, but your boss wasn’t buying that shit. I kinda figured that anyway. I went and rented a house in Langston and brought the paperwork with me just in case. They put in the transfer paperwork, so it’s done.”
She stared at me, blinking rapidly. “So, you’re not leaving me?”
“Leaving you? Girl, get over here.”
I pulled her into a hug. “I ain’t goin’ nowhere, woman. I’m exactly where I wanna be. But I wasn’t about to let you lose your job.”
“I appreciate that, but I didn’t like finding out that way. That doesn’t work for me. You have to talk to me. Keep me in the loop. That’s the only way I’ll feel secure.”
“I got you.” I kissed her forehead. “Did you eat?”
“Not yet.”
“Lemme feed you, baby. What do you have a taste for?”
She mumbled, “Pizza,” into my shirt.
“Whatever you want, Bella.”
She snatched her head back to look up at me. “Negro, you do not know Italian.”
“I do. I know bella,” I defended to her laughter. “And I also know I like that you came over here spitting fire.”
“You pissed me off.”
“I’m gonna piss you off sometimes. And vice versa. As long as we can talk through it, I’m good.”
She nodded.
“And then we can have makeup sex.”
We fucked so hard, we put each other to sleep. I didn’t wake up until my phone buzzed. I grabbed it and did something else that would look sneaky to Zay if she saw it, but I had no choice.
I tiptoed out of the bedroom to take Sunday’s call.
It would all make sense to her soon enough, but for now, I had to keep shit close. That was the only way I felt comfortable with the moves I was making.
The next day, I settled into the back seat of the black Mercedes and waited.
This shit was nice as hell. I could see why niggas went for the luxury. Maybe one day, I’d get me one so Zay could ride around in style again. For now, though, my little Accord was gonna have to do.
It was hot, but thankfully, I’d dressed for the conditions. Brought water, too.
I didn’t have to wait too long.
Roman didn’t have a lick of situational awareness. My guy didn’t even see me until he was ready to pull off.
He jumped a foot in the air. “What the fuck?”
“How you doin’?”
His eyes went crazy, darting back and forth as his hand went to his heart.
“Chill, chill. It’s okay. I’m not gon’ hurt you,” I reassured him. “I just wanted you to know I can get to you, that’s all.”
He was damn near hyperventilating, but he managed to say, “Is that a threat?”
“Like I said, if I want to, I know how to get to you. And if for some reason I wasn’t around, I got friends who can get to you.”
He visibly deflated in front of me. All that tough guy shit was gone. “Look, I don’t even have a problem with you.”
“Really? How does that work?”
“My issue is with Azalea.”
“What’s the issue?”
Silence settled in around us. He couldn’t answer, because there wasn’t an answer that wouldn’t get his fucking jaw tagged.
People have called me pretty all my life. I would agree. I’ve never been rough or rugged. But just like Gaither, I carry it like that. You’d never know looking at me, but it’s in there, deep, deep down. I will fuck a nigga up, especially if he threatens somebody I care about. And sometimes, you have to let that nigga know.
“You’re mad that she left. I get it. That’s a good woman. Beautiful. Heart is pure. Soul is positive. Pussy is extraordinary . You really fucked that up, dog. But I’m glad you did, cuz here I am.”
His jaw tightened, but he knew better than to open his mouth.
“Anyway, the way it works is that if you got an issue with her, it’s an issue with me. Leave her the fuck alone.”
More silence.
“Do I need to say that again?”
“Nah,” he answered quickly.
“Cool. Before I go, you’re gonna call and apologize to her for the shit you did.”
“What I did?”
I made a face. “Don’t even play that game with me, fuck nigga. My baby tells me everything. Pick up your fucking phone.”
He dropped it twice, but he finally managed to hold it steady enough to hit the button. Punk ass still had her as a favorite contact.
“She ain’t gon’ answer.”
“Oh, I know,” I laughed. “Leave a voicemail.”
He nodded. “Hey! I mean…ahem. Hi, Azalea. It’s Roman. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what happened the night you left. I was wrong. I should have never…well, anyway, I’m truly sorry.”
I rotated my finger for him to continue.
“Also…I’m sorry for trying to get you fired. I’m done with all of this. I just want you to be happy. You won’t have to see me around. Pat already made that clear anyway, so…um, I guess just… take care.”
He blew out a sigh as he ended the call.
“We’re done. You did good, man.”
He nodded.
I gathered my shit and opened the door, patting him on the shoulder just to watch him startle again.
“Hopefully we never see each other again,” I said. “Good night, fuck you, and I hope you die.”