Chapter 7 #2
On the other end, Tish went quiet for a second. She was deciding how she wanted to say what she really called for. When she spoke again, her attitude had settled, and her tone was much softer.
“I’m straight,” she said. “I just… I haven’t really heard from you. Not like that.”
Heavy leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting to the ceiling as he rolled his neck slowly. “I been around.”
“Not for me,” she replied. “I miss you.”
There it was.
He slightly shifted forward, sliding his phone onto the table where the money was no longer crowding it. “You know I been having a lot going on.”
“Okay,” she said as if his response was rhetorical. “You always have something going on.” Those words didn’t come out sharp this time. It sounded like she was more tired than anything. “That doesn’t change the fact that I miss you.”
“I know,” he replied.
That wasn’t the reply she wanted. Tish wanted him to say it back.
“Do you?” she asked. “Because it doesn’t feel like it.”
Heavy exhaled heavily through his nose. “I do.”
“You’ve been moving differently since you got home,” Tish added after a beat. “And I get it… you had to adjust. I wasn’t tripping on that. But then…” She paused, like she didn’t want to say it wrong. “After Dre… it’s like you just checked out.”
Heavy’s jaw tightened slightly at the mention of his name. He didn’t know what she was trying to get at exactly, but she was five seconds away from pissing him off.
“I’ont really know what you want me to tell you, Tish. You saying everything but what you really wanna say.”
“When can I see you?” she asked, bringing it back to what she really wanted.
Heavy leaned back again, staring at the ceiling like the answer might be written up there somewhere. “I don’t know,” he said, honestly.
Tish sighed. “Exactly. I ask and get that type of answer. You don’t know, or you don’t want to see me?”
He faintly smirked at that, even though she couldn’t see it. “I’ma pull up on you.”
“Mhm. Okay. I’ll believe it when I see it. Don’t forget I was the one holding it down out here and coming to see you behind those bars.”
“You saying it as if I forced you to.” Heavy’s head reared back some at her words.
“I wanted to,” Tish quickly added. “But still… I was there.”
“And I don’t take that lightly. You know that.”
“I’m starting to wonder if you do,” she admitted.
Heavy leaned forward again, scratching his locs. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like I don’t appreciate you.”
Tish went quiet again, knowing he definitely showed his gratitude.
Heavy had contributed to more than a few bills and tons of orgasms. Those were the only things they seemed to enjoy doing together now.
Getting money and having sex. Have sex and get money.
Anything outside of that was nonexistent, and the reason Tish was on his line whining.
He got it, though. A lot of shit had changed, including him and their on-again, off-again situation.
“I just miss you,” she said, softer this time. “That’s all.”
“I know. I’ll be through there.”
Tish smiled, already making a grocery list of things to grab when she got off work. “Okay. What you got a taste for?”
Heavy was almost embarrassed by how quickly his mind drifted somewhere else entirely. Cyren crossed it without warning, making his mouth water at the thought of eating her pussy again.
“I don’t know. Cook whatever.” Heavy didn’t even care anymore.
“Okay,” she said. “Just don’t have me waiting all night looking stupid.”
“I’m not.”
“Mhm,” she hummed, not fully convinced but not pushing it either. “Okay. Be safe and text me when you’re on the way.”
He told her he would and got right back to business. After counting and organizing the last bag of money, he slid the stacks inside the duffel bag, hoisting them on each shoulder. He made his way down the hall, through the living room and kitchen, toward the back door that led to the garage.
Stepping inside it, he opened the trunk of a smoky gray Dodge Durango and placed the bags inside. Like his Tahoe, this too was heavily tinted and still in great condition thanks to his grandfather. Mr. G kept everything Heavy owned in mint condition.
He pulled out of his garage with his gun in his lap and his mind drifting back to Tish.
Something about her throwing it in his face, how she’d been there for him while he was locked down, rubbed him the wrong way.
Heavy hadn’t asked her to. He didn’t even expect her to since they had only met three months prior.
Heavy first spotted her at Facade, a strip club in the city.
He, Dre, and a few of their homeboys had pulled up to show one of their homegirls love on her birthday.
Tish hadn’t hit the stage yet, but she was working the floor.
Her slim, chocolate frame, angelic face, and big ass titties, of course, captured his eyes.
But it was the slick movements of her dealing drugs right underneath the owner’s nose that made him even more interested in getting her name and credentials.
With the amount of money that came through there every night, Heavy didn’t mind her pushing some pills for him.
All it took was a bit of charm, a few interactions outside of the club, and for his homegirl to give him the greenlight about Tish, and it was a go.
Somehow, their business transactions turned intimate, and Tish was riding his bid out with him and handling business on the outside.
She didn’t disappear as most women would’ve; still, Heavy wasn’t committed.
He couldn’t imagine them being in a serious relationship.
She could get the dick, though. That’s about as much of him as Heavy was willing to give, now, and that dick was plentiful, so there really shouldn’t have been any complaints.
Before Heavy could think too much about why he hadn’t settled down and made things official with her, his phone rang again.
Had he not had business to handle, he would’ve shut it off.
It was as if everyone needed to talk to him today, and he was tired of taking calls.
His demeanor quickly changed when he saw it was his niece, Ashtyn, calling from her iPad.
“What’s up, boo,” Heavy greeted, smiling into the camera.
“Uncle Heavy…” Her small voice came through shaky, as if she were trying not to cry.
His whole posture shifted. “What’s wrong?”
“KJ’s daddy is over here, and my mommy is yelling,” she said, her words rushing together. “I don’t like it.”
Heavy’s jaw tightened, but his tone stayed calm for her. “Where you at?”
“In my room.” She sniffled. “I closed the door.”
“A’ight, that’s good,” he reassured. “Stay right there, alright? Don’t come out.”
“Okay.”
“Where’s your brother?”
Heavy was hoping she didn’t say with her. Ashtyn was a very smart little girl, but KJ wasn’t even one yet. She didn’t need to be alone with him.
“Mommy has him,” she replied, softly.
“Okay.” He sighed with relief. “I’m on the way. You hear me?”
“Mhm. Want me to stay on the phone?”
“Yes. Stay on the phone until I get there.”
“Okay.”
Heavy was tender about his sister, but especially about his niece and nephew. Mesha was always putting him in fucked-up situations, but she’d really taken the cake with this one. His grip tightened on the wheel as he made the next turn without hesitation. Whatever plans he had could wait.
Heavy heard her hollering from the parking lot. What would’ve typically been a fifteen-minute drive turned into seven, and he was whipping into her complex just in time. Khysen, KJ’s daddy, was walking down the steps of Mesha’s townhome just as Heavy hopped out of his ride.
“You called your brother?” Khysen asked, glaring at Heavy.
“Nah, nigga. My niece did. What’s up?” Heavy tugged upward on his pants, ready for whatever.
Khysen flexed his jaw, becoming pissed off even more. “Man, move around with all that tough guy shit. I came over here to see my son and your sister tripping like usual.”
Mesha stomped down the stairs, her long ponytail damn near slapping Heavy in the face as she passed him.
“Ain’t nobody tripping! That’s you and your weird-ass family acting funny towards my son. I can’t change what happened to your brother, and that’s not my fault! All of y’all can just leave me and mine the fuck alone!”
When it came to her kids, Mesha didn’t give a fuck whose feelings got hurt, but it damn sure wouldn’t be hers or theirs.
“I told you I checked that shit, and you still wanna argue. This ain’t even about KJ. You mad about another bitch,” Khysen fumed, ready to say fuck it.
He loved his son too much, though.
“Aye, I don’t give a fuck what it’s about as long as you ain’t putting your hands on her,” Heavy intervened.
“That nigga ain’t crazy. He gon’ be right where his—”
Khysen rushed her so fast that Heavy almost didn’t have a chance to stop him.
“I’ma be right where, Mesh? Huh? Say that shit with your chest!” Khysen boomed, wanting her to utter those hateful words.
Heavy pushed him back, already knowing the slick shit his sister was about to say. “A’ight, cuz. Back up. Whatever y’all got going on needs to be handled when the kids ain’t here. Where the fuck is my nephew?” He looked at Mesha for answers.
She rolled her eyes. “He’s taking a nap.”
Heavy didn’t know how, with all the yelling they were doing, but his point still stood.
“You better have my son ready tomorrow, and I’m not playing with your ass, Lamesha. You really want a nigga to spazz out. Don’t play with me about my seed.” Khysen grilled her, then mugged Heavy.
He didn’t like him either. In fact, his hatred ran deeper than he let on, but he promised his mama not to act on it.
She was lucky as hell that he was a man of his word.
Hopping in his ride, Khysen peeled out of the parking lot.
Heavy couldn’t do anything but shake his head as he followed Mesha into her house.
“I’m so sick of this shit,” she fussed, flopping down on the couch.