Chapter 22
Once we’d made it home, my fingers flew across the keyboard on my thankfully recovered phone.
I texted my sister and cousins, telling them to halt the plane and car rides back home, because a bitch was in crisis.
After what I'd been through, I felt like I deserved a medal and a stiff drink. The medal part probably wasn’t coming. The drink part definitely was.
We ended up at a bar a little distance from the compound, a cute little place that somehow managed to look upscale despite all the Texas memorabilia.
I noticed lots of dark wood and sparkling glass.
Old school R otherwise, shit sounded terrible. She sipped so slowly that I moved to smack the drink out of her hand. She moved quick then, raggedy heffa.
“Them shooters didn't fuck you up, but I will, big sis. I was gon' say 'but he loves you.’”
Hyacinth kissed her teeth. “That ain’t enough. A lot of niggas love you and still be ruining your life.”
“True, But that’s not what I feel from him,” Pip countered.
I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Well, what do you feel, or do I need to get the crystal ball?”
Her mouth twisted. “First of all, you trying it. Second, I feel like that man would set himself on fire if it kept you warm.”
A little silence fell over us.
Even Hyacinth didn’t joke right away.
See, that was the problem. Not whether Targen loved me.
I knew somehow, despite our short time together and long absence apart, there was a good chance that he did.
Maybe not the healthiest, most normal way on earth, but hey, a little toxic went a long way with me.
But yeah, the love... I had felt it in his hands, in his mouth, in the room he’d built for me, in the fact that when I was panicking on the side of that road, my dangerous husband looked at me like I was the one thing in the world he was most scared of losing.
Ugh! He made this keeping-my-distance-til-I figured-shit-out thing hard. I sighed.
“I care about him. Too much, probably,” I admitted quietly.
Emory leaned toward me. “He's your husband. That’s not a bad thing.”
“It feels like one. He disappeared on me–”
“The man said he didn't want to,” Pip interrupted.
“It could happen again. Who knows how the Bratva works? He not about to pop twenty-three kids in me then go missing five years cuz the organization needs it,’” I argued.
Another silence, heavy because my family knew–
"Twenty-three? Five? Is this what we call 'hyperbole?' I feel like it is. The teacher in me is almost sure it is,” Hyacinth's annoying ass teased, easing the moment.
I wrinkled my nose at her. “Anyway, we also gotta consider that he said fuck what I want and made me marry him,” I continued.
“Okay, that's a big one. But cousin?” Emory began.
“Huh?”
“You don't seem particularly distraught.'”
I flipped her off, tossed back my second... no, third shot, signaled for another, and pressed on.
“Also, he lied. Or omitted the truth. Or whatever cute mafia word we wanna use. He let me marry him without telling me who he really was. Nobody wanna be married to a lying ass nigga.”
“I agree that would be a problem if he was a habitual liar or if he planned to keep secrets.
He doesn't strike me as a man who feels the need to lie often, and the no keeping secrets part, that's one of the demands you have to make, suga. He gotta concede some, too, and the way he looks at you, I think he will, Theory,” Akeira said.
“He's also bossy and cocky and aggravating…”
“But…” Everly prompted gently.
I looked down at the shot glass. “But I don’t think he was playing with me. Not about us.” I bit into a lime, downed the shot, and held up one finger to the bartender.
Hyacinth nodded at what I said like that settled everything. “See? Boom. There you go.”
“That don't ‘boom’ anything!” I snapped.
“It do, though.” She pointed at me with her little straw and closed one eye. “You in love.”
I damn near choked on my new shot. Damn, the bartender was fast. Someone should tip her a lot. The way my head was doing that little fuzzy thing, I wasn't sure it would be me. “I ain't say all that.”
“You didn’t have to,” Hy sing-songed.
“Could you be serious for once?” Emory asked, cutting through Hy’s nonsense before I could fight her. She'd get the best of me tonight, I thought as my brain started to swim. Hell, Em might get the best of me tonight, with her non-fighting ass. Em's next question almost sobered me up, though.
“Do you love him?”
My eyes dropped to the shot that had appeared in my hand.
“It's like magic,” I mumbled, marveling at the little glass.
“If magic is a bartender named Sakia,” Pip said dryly.
“Theory. Answer my question,” Em ordered in her imperious way.
The liquor had me warm now. Warm enough to be honest. Too honest, maybe. But fuck it.
“I…” I let out a breath. “I love him in some way. Or I’m on my way to it. I'on know. I just know I care about him a lot. And I’m crazy attracted to him, which is very unhelpful. Like I be wanting to slap his face and sit on it at the same time."
That got a laugh out of all of them.
“Girl, we know,” Hyacinth said.
“How?” I challenged.
Everly chuckled. “You ain’t exactly subtle when you talk about that man. Not last year, not now.”
“I don’t talk about him like that,” I protested.
“You do,” Epiphany and Emory said together.
I frowned at both of them. Traitors.
Akeira smiled into her glass. “You sound like somebody trying real hard not to want what she really wants.”
I let my head fall back. “Ugh! Y'all make me sick! This is why I should’ve just written this out.”
“No. This is why you needed us,” Emory said softly.
Damn tequila had me all sentimental after she said that.
For a moment, I just looked at them. My girls.
The people who had loved me through heartbreak and trauma and healing and heartbreak all over again.
Around us, the bar sounded busy as glasses clinked and music played low, but right then, I felt a quiet kind of peace.
My circle was surrounding me. My support system was everything.
Everly touched my arm. “Listen to me. Men like ours…” She glanced over at Real, who was pretending not to watch us.
“They all got secrets, some darker than others. You don't have to accept just anything. You don't have to stop using your mind. Take your time and figure it out. Ask questions. Set boundaries. But if you love that man, if he loves you, and if he’s showing you that he’s willing to tell the truth now and stand on it, don’t throw away your marriage just because some things are not what you expected. ”
I swallowed past a sudden lump in my throat.