Chapter 48 Mood
Mood
This can’t be real. My grip tightens around the gun, knuckles white as I stare them down, my mother and Orion.
Naked. Together. Forget the uncle title.
“WAH THIS!?” I growl, voice rough like gravel in my throat.
My jaw clenches. This better be some sick dream.
Zara’s gonna shake me any second, kiss mi and whisper, ‘It’s okay. ’
But I blink.
They’re still there. Sheet pulled to her chest, Mommy stares at me with guilty eyes. Orion looks like he wants to vanish. How she fi sleep wid mi father bredda? I know they’re not blood, but still, a mi uncle dat. That’s family.
“Weh the respect deh fi mi father? Fi me? Fi Junior, Janel, Jordane?” I shout, chest heaving.
Orion bows his head. My mother winces. “Nickoi, put down the gun,” she says softly. She think mi really a go shoot them?
“Mi a nuh betrayer,” I spit. The word burns because she is.
“Mi know yuh a go say this but, mi love Owayne,” she murmurs. I snort. She? Love?
“Yow, doh talk to me,” I cut in coldly when Orion tries to speak. He stays silent. Dat him betta do. I can’t look at him, much less hear him.
“A mi uncle, Mommy,” I shout, hands shaking. “Yuh really a deal wid mi uncle?”
She fidgets, teary. “Nickoi, just… listen. Let me explain—”
I laugh, sharp and humorless. “Mi cyaa believe this dawg.”
“How long?” I ask, voice lower now but more dangerous. She covers her face, crying. Orion finally gets up.
“Mi did respect you, yuh know,” I tell him quietly. I could hurt him, gun still in my hand but I don’t have it in me. Not for him. Not now.
“I know,” he says. “You have every right to hate me. But this… this started long before you were born. Nicki was mine first. Owayne… he took her. I let that go. Years pass, mi feelings gone… or so mi thought. But we were alone. Shit happen. It nuh right, but… it happen.” He’s trying. He’s ashamed.
“And mi shouldn’t even be near her. But sometimes when you see someone you once loved, the feelings… they creep back in. I’m sorry, Nickoi.” I inhale sharply.
“Mi understand,” I say, even if I don’t fully. “Mi just need a drink and bout hundred spliff.”
Mommy finally speaks through tears. “Mi sorry. It was a mistake.”
I nod slowly. “Mi nuh hate yuh, Mommy. But mi hurt and right now… mi cya look pon yuh.”
Orion exhales. “I’ll stay away. This ends here.”
“Yea man, it done right yah so,” I reply. “Weh the babies deh?”
“M-Ms. Cherry have dem,” she says. I leave without another word.
***
Popcaan Friends Like These blasts through the speakers as I drive to Beverly Hills. I spot Zara’s white Benz and smirk. She really let mi catch har up? She pulls in first. I follow, honking at the gate. She steps out laughing, lifting the twins from the back seat.
“So yuh drive slow?” I tease, trying to shake off the sting of earlier.
She smiles, walks inside, and I trail behind with shopping bags.
I drop into the sofa and stare blankly at the screen.
I don’t even know what’s playing. Zara plops beside me, wraps herself around my arm. Her presence softens me, just a little.
“Babe, yuh look… sad,” she says gently.
“Mi good man. Just tired.”
She doesn’t press. Just leans into me, watching the TV. Her voice breaks the silence again.
“Mi seh, yuh remember the man weh call to me today? A him did gas up that Spanish girl to beat me… now him a try look mi.” I hear her but mi mind elsewhere. She watches me, and I fake a small smile. She seems to get it, choosing to stay quiet. Eventually, I drop asleep.
***
I wake up to the Tv asking ‘Are you still watching?’ and shift from under Zara’s arm. I roll off, head to the bathroom to do my routine. She leans on the door, eyes sleepy but soft. “Morning,” she says.
“Morning, Mami.”
“Yacht party later… you ready?”
I nod.
“You not going to work?”
She shakes her head. “Physics exam. Mi nuh teach dat.” She heads to the guest bathroom mirror. I lean on the door frame, watching her do her skin routine. Then, slowly, she undresses. Her eyes meet mine through the mirror. She steps out of her panties and approaches.
“I notice yuh sad yesterday,” she says softly.
I nod. “Mi never plan fi talk ‘bout it still. It might kill mi vibe.”
“And mi nuh want dat,” she whispers, cupping my face.
I run my hand down her back. “No, we nuh want dat.”
My hand lands on her throat and she bites her lip. “Nickoi…” she breathes. I lean in, kiss her. She wraps herself around me, and I lift her onto the vanity. Her legs wrap around me, mouth on mine. Then the phone rings.
Zara grabs my wrist, licking her lips. “Yuh nuh affi answer it,” she purrs. She drops to her knees on the vanity, fingers already working my shorts.
ZARA
He stands in front of me, pants low, eyes locked on mine like he dares me to look away.
I’m on the vanity, knees wide, lips wrapped ‘round him, stretching my mouth as he thrusts into my throat.
One hand grips his thigh, the other braces on the sink behind me.
Then water starts spraying behind me. Warm, sudden, dripping down my back and soaking my inner thighs.
“Shit,” I gasp out around him, trying to reach back to turn the faucet off. He doesn’t let me. Just grabs my braids in a fist, holding me in place.
“Leave it,” he grunts. “You already wet anyway.”
My eyes roll back. The water runs, but he gets rougher. The veins pulsing in my throat. He smirks, watching his dick disappear past my lips. “Heaven wrap round me right now… Jah… feel like this can lick mi chip.”
I hum around him, eyes tearing up. He throbs hard in my mouth, grips my head, then—
“Tek it. Yeaah… just like dat.” His hips twitch. And just like that, he releases. Warm and thick, turning my face in his canvas. My cheeks, mouth, even my lashes has white strokes.
“Shittt,” he exhales, watching his own mess drip down my face. I swipe my tongue over my swollen lips. “You pretty wid it… yuh know dat?”
He drags me off the vanity like I weigh nothing, like my body was built for him. Legs fly up, I lock dem ‘round his waist tight. I laugh breathlessly. “Y-Yuh not even give mi time fi breathe.”
“Don’t need yuh fi breathe,” he hisses. “Just tek dis.” He walks me straight to the wall, presses my back against it, and slides inside without warning.
“Ahh—!” I cry out, nails digging in his back.
“Yuh feel that?” he whispers against my ear, he’s so tall, I have to look up as he slowly grinds into me. “Yuh tight… mi can’t… do a day… without this.”
“Mmmm…” He grips my thighs, lifts them higher over his shoulders, then steps deeper between my legs.
“Yow… don’t run,” he warns, holding me still. “Every f***in’ inch, mi giving yuh. Tek it.”
My head knocks back. I claw at his back, trying to stay sane.
“Mi caah manage—”
“Yes yuh can. You beg fi dis, memba?” He strokes deep, heavy, right up to my soul. I moan hard, legs shaking against his shoulders. Then I lose it. Liquid gush out of me, slicking down my thighs, splashing the tiles beneath us. I cross my ankles in pleasure.
“Open back yuh leg,” he growls, eyes wild. My legs tremble. My chest heave. He chokes me, just a squeeze, enough to pin my head to the wall.
“Look pan me,” he orders. My eyes flutter open, dazed.
“Talk to me.”
“I… I feel it inna mi belly…”
He laughs. Not soft… dark and cocky.
“Good. Mi want yuh feel it every time yuh walk. Every time yuh smile. Every man yuh pass, yuh guh memba seh a me sign my name inna yuh walls.”
NICKOI
I’m just getting home. After our morning runnings, shower, breakfast, feeding the babies, I touch the road to handle a few errands in town.
When I walk in, the twins are in their nursery, babbling over toys.
Zara’s knocked out on the bed, belly down, one leg tucked, one hanging.
I stand at the door for a second and just take her in. She a sleep like a baby.
You did that, my subconscious grins.
I did.
I told her straight, I don’t want to see my mother right now.
Not today. So I called Gavin to come watch the kids.
He’s on his way with his sister. Right on cue, the door knocks.
I throw on something quick. Simple. Still look sharp.
By the time I reach downstairs and open the door, they’re here.
Pizza in one hand, KFC in the next. I swing the door wide.
“Unuh fawud,” I say, and they step inside after greeting me.
“Soon bring down the babies. Mi just a go get ready,” I tell them.
Sash eyes me up and smirks. “So yuh nuh dress yet and yuh look dressed?” Gavin taps her head. I head back upstairs.
“Weh Zara?” he asks behind me.
“She a sleep. But mi a go wake her now.”
“Zara a sleep at this hour?” he mutters. I push open the door. She stirs. Rubbing her eyes.
“Yuh wake?” I smile.
She chucks a pillow at me. “You a give him idea,” she whines playfully.
I laugh and start changing, crisp white Louis Vuitton two-piece button-down set, clean.
Nike Dunks blue and white to match her. Shoes on the floor, waiting.
Zara starts undressing. My eyes don’t leave her.
Firm body. Soft hips. All woman. As she passes, I reach out and slap her ass.
“Chro,” she hisses.
“You cool off?” I raise a brow. She just closes the door behind her.
When she steps back out, I take a breath.
Then she gets dressed. Blue two-piece. High-waisted shorts hugging her.
White Bridgets on her feet. Blue scarf tied over her braids.
Light makeup. A soft glow like she wake up moisturized by God himself.
In one hand? A Stanley cup, full of whatever she’s having today.
“You look good, Mami,” I say, smacking her ass again. The babies laugh when I scoop them up, and we head downstairs, Zara strutting in front of me.
“No sah, then how Zara nice so?” Gavin says, staring. “A crime she a commit. She too bad.”
“The dolly bad fi choo,” Sash grins. Zara just flashes them a smile and keeps moving. I lay out the kids’ toys and snacks, then turn to Gavin.
“Take care of them,” I tell him, not Sash.
She play too much.
“Ready?” Zara asks, keys already in my hand. I nod and grab the remote. In the garage, the white drop-top Range Rover sits untouched. Today feel like the day to drive it. Zara’s still inside texting, asking if I’m ready. Late bug. She always move slow when a tome fi move. My phone buzzes.
It’s Anna.
“Weh unuh deh?!” she hollers, music wild in the background. She reach already?
“Soon fawud,” I lie. Still in my yard.
“Royal Club. Mi a send yuh the address,” she says.
WhatsApp chimes.
“Ah mi just get it. Respect,” I reply.
“Yeah, see you!” she hangs up. I wait in the car. Two minutes later, Zara comes out like she’s on runway, Stanley cup and her phone in her hand, smiling sweetly. She climbs in beside me. A powdery, floral scent comes with her. I inhale it, and tuck my lip in.
“New car? Chro, mi cyaah keep up wid yuh,” she laughs. I laugh too. She’s glowing. I start the engine and she sips from her Stanley, then tilts the straw to my lips. I sip and taste it. D’ussé.
I smirk.
“Look at you drinking D’ussé.”
She didn’t even drink when I met her.
A you bruck har out.
True.
“Mi like it,” she giggles.
As we pull out, she taps the button and the top folds down. The sun hits her skin and she smiles, eyes closed like she’s floating already. She’s ready. Har party mode activated.