47. Targen
"I knew yo' ass was a clown, but you really out here juggling, huh?" Real said, a stupid ass smirk on his face.
I looked down at the bowl of popcorn, two fruit punches on a six-pack ring, movie-theater boxes of candy, and popcorn seasoning. Hell, I was doing a good job balancing it all. Real was just a hatin' ass nigga.
"Shut yo' ass up and go try yo' tired ass seduction shit on Everly," I shot back.
His smile slipped a little.
"Nah. Love ain't getting seduced. Shorty's gonna respect that there's more than sex between us before I bless her again," he vowed.
"Fuck her timing, huh? She gotta accept that right now just cuz you have?" I pressed him.
Real stiffened and the air between us thickened with tension. For the most part, he and I got along. We were close friends and had been doing shit together for so long, one of us could anticipate what the other one was thinking or planning. But not this time—I couldn't figure out what Real was doing with Everly because he didn't know what he was doing with Everly, hell. I just knew she didn't deserve to be hurt in the process.
"Mind yo' business, Bozo," he said, frowning.
“Gacy, more like. I’m a killer clown after all.”
I smiled at him before jogging up the stairs, chuckling as I heard his door slam. Seconds later, I knocked on Theory's door. The last few nights, we'd watched movies together as we talked and worked our way through snacks. A nigga was greedy for these moments of getting to know her—I wanted to understand the woman I knew was mine from the inside out. I’d ended up making her really answer twenty-one questions while we picked fruit and fucked up my hands. And these nights with her were discipline, too. I had to sit beside her, notice how good she smelled and how her lounging clothes hugged her fucking curves, and keep my hands and lips to myself until I was more sure she welcomed my touch. Patience was a virtue, and I didn't have much of that.
Theory had texted me a few minutes ago to tell me she was ready and give me her requests. Doing the juggling act Real accused me of, I knocked on the door before opening it. She jumped from where she was sitting on her bed, dropping her phone and remote as she faced me. Something was off. The welcoming look she'd had the previous few nights was missing. Instead, her beautiful face was tight, a frown marring her perfect features. Instantly, I moved toward her. She stepped back and shook her head, surprising me.
"What's wrong?" I demanded.
She looked around the room, like the walls could give her a damn answer. Her gaze rested on my face as she finally spoke.
"I'm really not feeling up to this tonight, Targen. I'm so sorry I bothered you. I think I'ma spend the night with Granny Nette. I decided I’m leaving tomorrow.”
Her words came out fast, like they were falling all over each other, and I could see the lie in her eyes. I could push her—I would push her, but I was going to give her a chance to come clean. I put the snacks on a little table, crossed my arms over my chest, leaned against the wall, and waited silently. She fidgeted as she avoided my eyes, wringing her hands and pulling on the spirals of her hair. I saw her straighten her shoulders a minute before she met my eyes.
"You can leave now," she said coolly.
Maybe it was the fact that I had handled her so gently up until now. Maybe she was already used to me following her lead. But just like I was learning her, my shorty had to learn me. Her eyes widened as I walked closer to her. She put her hands up and whispered my name, but that didn't stop me from picking her up and carrying her to the dresser, where I sat her ass down. She leaned back against the mirror. I gently grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her face toward me. My lips grazed her ear as I spoke.
"Nah. I'm not going anywhere. You called for me. You don't lie to me, Theory. That's not how we gon' work. You not hiding shit. I'ma know all your secrets, milaya . Now, I asked you what's wrong and you about to tell me."
"Targen... please... you're scaring me," she whimpered.
Before now, I would have backed off immediately. I could feel her heart pounding, see how shallow her breaths were. She really was scared. But I could also see her hardened nipples and the excitement in her eyes, feel her thighs spreading to make room for me.
"I think you like to be scared, though," I whispered, tugging on her nipple.
I had never touched her so intimately. She sucked in a breath, her gaze glued to me as I cupped her breast, pulling the fabric of her long-ass night shirt tight against her skin.
"Targen." Her voice was almost a moan. "I can't... you shouldn't... just go, please."
I shook my head.
"Nah. Not ’til you tell me the truth. The worst thing you can do is lie to me. You won't like the consequences," I promised her.
She gripped my wrist suddenly and pulled, anger flashing from her brown eyes.
"I'm so fucking sick of hearing about consequences. Get off me, Targen. Just leave me alone. I'm serious?—"
"Who else promised you consequences?" I focused on her comment, holding on to her despite her struggles. "Did someone threaten you?"
"It's not your business?—"
I shook my head, stopping the bullshit she was spitting.
"Everything about you is my business from now on. Who threatened you?"
She fought me for a little while longer before going completely still and quiet, her full lips pressed together tightly. My baby apparently had a stubborn streak, but she didn't know her nigga.
"A'ight, shorty. That's the way you wanna play it? I'm good with that. Long as you know I ain't going nowhere and you ain't, either."
I caressed her throat before I dropped my hand and walked over to retrieve the remote control she dropped.
"What you wanna watch? Might as well enjoy this time since we both gon' be here," I said with a smirk.
She rolled her eyes and stayed silent. I shrugged. Guess I was picking something. From my peripheral vision, I watched as she started to slide off the dresser.
"I can beat you to the door, and when I catch you there, you might not like it," I said calmly, scrolling through the streaming services.
She froze. Then, she hugged herself, trying to ease the fact that she was suddenly shaking. Shorty looked off, like she was unsure about me and what I might do. I didn't like that.
"You... you said you wouldn't... you promised..."
"I would never hurt you, milaya . Never," I promised her again. "But you don't get to push me away and hide."
Her shoulders dropped in relief. I opened Netflix and started searching for something we might both like. After selecting a movie, I sat down on the floor in front of the bench at the foot of her bed, ignoring her gaze. After a minute, she sighed loudly before easing down and coming to sit on the bench, her thigh temptingly near my face. I grabbed her ankle, then let my hand trail up to grasp her calf.
"Targen—" she murmured.
"Shh."
I massaged her calf, not going any farther, but refusing to let her go. She claimed to want my touch, so she might as well get used to it. Together, we watched some silly ass production until she relaxed and even managed to laugh. Then, her phone vibrated. She looked at it and her body stiffened. She dropped it beside her, and her eyes went back to the TV screen. The tension didn't leave her. I waited for her to say something, anything, but she didn’t.
“Who was that?”
I wouldn’t be the type to ask her that often, but she was clearly upset. I’d always follow up on shit like that. She moved anxiously, legs bouncing, before pulling her hands into her lap, where she tugged at the material of her gown.
"I need to go. You don't understand," she said, her voice low. "You don't?—"
I scoffed. “We back on that? You right, I don’t. You was just excited about your family reunion and talking about staying through the fall and baking pies with Granny when the fruit orchards get harvested. That changed in a couple of days? Yeah, I don’t get it, Theory. Explain,” I growled the challenge.
"I have to go, Targen. My being here... It's not safe for my family. It's not?—"
She stopped, but she’d said enough to piss me the fuck off.
“You think you have to run from anybody ever again?”
Reaching over her, I snatched the phone.
“Targen, no?—"
Holding her back, even as she swatted at me, was easy. Unlocking the phone with the Fibonacci sequence I’d seen her type in, I went straight to her messages. The most recent one had me smirking, some weak ass nigga trying to scare her away from me.
“You scared of this nigga? Didn’t I tell you I would?—"
I stopped as I focused on some of the prior messages from different numbers. Messages telling her how she should’ve been dead, messages telling her all the ways she should be violated and how she’d be made to love it, messages calling her sick and disgusting and out of her name, messages threatening people she loved by name. I scrolled to see that they had begun the night after the reunion and escalated since then. Each night started with a tame insult and worked its way up. She had to have blocked at least a dozen numbers. With every message I read, my rage expanded, my hand tightening on the phone until I could feel the metal starting to bend. I didn’t want to scare her, but I had questions she was going to answer.
I stood, then reached down to pull her up. She was avoiding my eyes, so I tilted her chin back, trying to make her look at me. With my other hand, I held up the phone.
“Who the fuck is this, Theory?” I asked, my voice tight.
She shifted her tear-filled eyes sideways, still evading my gaze. I laughed abruptly, an ugly, harsh sound in the painfully quiet room. Baby girl didn’t know me. She would, though. Lifting the phone, I selected the last message. With a few taps, I sent a message implying that I wanted to talk. A few seconds later, the phone rang. I answered and put it on speaker. Her eyes widened, and she scrambled for the phone again. I didn’t even have to extend my arm far to keep it out of her reach. I muted it, anticipating her protest.
“Targen, no! You can’t?—"
I cut her off with a quick shake of my head. “I can't? I told you that you are mine . Nobody treats mine like this. Nobody talks to mine like this.”
I unmuted the phone. From the other end, there was no greeting, only the light, rhythmic cadence of someone's breathing.
“Scared to reveal yourself, bitch ass nigga? That tells me all I need to know. But I'll get to hear your voice. Pussies like you always cry in the end. I’ma make sure you do,” I vowed before I hung up and turned back to Theory.
The look on her face made my fury burn hotter. She stood there wide-eyed and pale, shaking her head as she hugged herself.
“You shouldn’t have done that. He’s going to?—”
“He ain’t gon’ do shit but find himself at the bottom of one of the old wells on this homestead if he comes here,” I cut her off abruptly. “I don’t think you understand who I am, Theory, but you will. Who the fuck?—”
She shook her head. “I can’t… I can’t tell you,” she whispered.
“That’s your word, baby?” I asked.
A cold smile stretched my lips as I slid her phone into my pocket. Theory didn’t realize that I could get all the information I needed, with or without her cooperation. “Bet.”