Chapter 5 #3
Sonny reclaimed his drink and swayed his hips while he sassed, “I was surprised that you hit me up. I started to leave yo ass on read, but I decided to be the bigger person. Plus, I checked out your page and got a little curious.”
“Of course, you did,” she muttered, and he cackled.
“Look, honey. Ain’t no shame in my game, and from the shit I saw, it seems like you’re living good.
I just want to know how I can get like you.
I even checked the bitches’ profiles who’d tagged you, and those hoes were designer down with big girl whips, and the whole shebang!
One of them had a wedding ring on the size of my balls.
Who is she fucking? Hell, who are you fucking? ”
“We have our own money. Did you not see that every one of us run businesses?”
“Chile, who y’all think y’all fooling? Those bitches are young and kept. I can smell it on them. Sarge is tight with the funds these days, so I need a daddy who gon’ cash out without bitching about saving for hard times. Like, who in the hell is hard times, and why is she blowing my vibe?”
“I’m not for your shit, Sonny.”
Kennedy laughed with a shake of her head but made a mental note to clean sweep her page of anything that’d draw too much attention to her pockets. She’d mention to her girls to do the same.
“So, you not gon’ give up no details?” Sonny pressed, cocking his head to one side.
“I’m really not in a relationship, Sonny. The last one I was in, you know who that was.”
“Oh, Shaun’s funky ass. I could’ve told you from the jump he wasn’t shit before you took him with you if you’d been talking to me.”
“Don’t even mention that nigga’s name or his bottom three ass dick. While you’re all in my business, what have you been up to? I didn’t investigate your page,” Kennedy jabbed, although it didn’t bother Sonny one bit. He tucked an invisible strand of hair behind his ear.
“You know me. A little of this, a little of that. Ya girl is a jack of all trades.”
“And a master of none, huh?”
“Oh, I mastered plenty of things. Not wasting my life at menial, dead end jobs is one of them. I live life in search of happiness, and jobs make me miserable. Hell, physical labor outside of sex exhausts me. The only job I’d consider is robbing niggas.”
Kennedy grabbed a plastic cup to half-fill with liquor before adding pineapple juice. She dropped in a straw and sipped it, humming her approval of the taste before giving a deadpan stare at Sonny since she wouldn’t recommend his occupation of choice.
“You’re too much.”
“And you were too much right along with me, Kenn. Hell, you probably caused more trouble than me.”
“Smacking bitches, of course. Doing shit that’ll get my ass killed, not so much. You know, Koda didn’t play that. He had his limits.”
“Well, Sarge couldn’t control me then, and he can’t now. The most he can do is clean up my shit for the rest of my pretty ass life, as he should.”
Sonny’s glossed lips curled into a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes that grew dim for reasons only a select few knew about.
Before she could interrogate him on how he’d honestly been, he pulled his phone out of his leather clutch.
Her eyes narrowed when he pursed his mouth and turned to her with an apologetic gaze.
“I know that look anywhere. What’d you do, bitch?”
“Well, I told you, I had connections here to get us this section or whatever. I forgot to add, my brother and Zeke own this lounge. Someone must’ve reported to them that I was here and maybe described who I was with because it made Zeke text me to ask if it was you almost an hour ago, but I didn’t see it. He’s here.”
Kennedy’s face grew blank while her heart palpitated because her scheme had worked too well.
Sonny had done what she recalled him best for—stirring up fucking mess.
She’d expected Ezekiel to hear of her being home within a couple of days at the earliest. Two hours made her want to pat herself on the back.
“Maybe we can sneak out before he notices where we are,” Sonny suggested.
Kennedy let out a low chuckle while zeroing in on a suit-clad figure that stuck out like a sore thumb, breezing toward their section.
“Too late. I guess, it’s time for me to face the music.”
Her drink lost its powerful kick, and she sipped it like she was unaffected by the liquor as her first love closed in on her.
The closer Zeke neared, she could make out those bedroom eyes that used to make her pussy wet well before he’d touched it.
His suit clung to his toned frame, and she appreciated the hints of gray in his close shaven beard and clean fade.
Age had done him as well as she’d imagined it would.
“Hey, brother!” Sonny sang once Ezekiel meandered onto the raised floor, entering their section.
Ezekiel shot him a fleeting smile, but his gaze veered straight to the young girl who’d robbed him of his heart at one point in time. He was caught off guard by the grown woman who stood in her place.
His eyes locked on Kennedy, transfixed—raking from her flawlessly beat face to her cropped leather jacket and a clingy black halter dress that stopped below a pussy he’d taught everything it knew.
A smug grin etched on his face as he walked further, sealing the gap between them while she stared with slow blinks as if she were processing him being real.
He gripped her chin to tip her head upward as her lids fluttered.
The silence was palpable, and Kennedy tensed at the jolt in her belly that almost convinced her to run off before diving into yet another predicament that she couldn’t pull herself out of.
As if Ezekiel sensed her hesitations, his rich baritone finally stroked her ears and sent tingles down her spine.
“My tough girl.”
Her throat dried at the stolen epithet from Butch that Ezekiel had dirtied long ago, turning it into anything but an innocent term of endearment. He’d used it most when she did a stellar job at taking his dick.
“Hey, Zeke,” she replied, cringing from her voice that came out hoarser than it’d been all day. He hiked a brow, but didn’t point it out.
“What a sight for sore eyes. Sonny, do you think I can steal Kennedy for a minute without you causing chaos in my establishment?”
“Zeke, go to hell. This lounge ain’t even all that to act like I’m gon’ destroy it, but I haven’t stolen a hoe’s man in months, so no beefs over here. I’ll be good.”
“Some things really don’t change,” Kennedy bantered with Sonny, and Ezekiel hummed before taking her cup to set on the table.
“And some things change so damn much, it’s hard to recognize them anymore. Let’s talk in my office where it’s quieter.”
Kennedy didn’t have time to register whether Ezekiel made the statement in hindsight or as a jab before he took her hand and began guiding her through the lounge. She scurried to keep up with his stride and concentrated not to stumble over her own feet in her heels.
As hard as she tried to ignore it, her tipsy state didn’t let her overlook Ezekiel’s tight grip on her hand.
Firm and assured as if she still belonged to him.
It shined a spotlight on the character difference between him and Relic because Ezekiel hadn’t once struggled to show his love or affection toward her.
If anything, she had to remind him to keep it light in public.
None of his efforts mattered since, when the time had come to let Koda know; Ezekiel had fumbled and broken her heart to pieces in the process.
“So, you and Sarge own this spot?” Kennedy made an attempt at small talk as he led her around the bar area and down a small hall for employees only.
He nodded while releasing her hand before fishing a set of keys from his slacks pocket.
His lack of conversation made her antsy, and she tugged at the hem of her dress as she waited for him to unlock the door and open it to usher her inside.
Kennedy emitted a squeal when Ezekiel shut it by slamming her back against it before his hands clamped onto her waist. His tongue dove between her gaped lips to invade her mouth without permission.
“What the fuck, Ezekiel?! Wait... stop!” She screamed and turned her head before giving his chest a hard shove.
He released her like she was contagious and stumbled backward, shaking his head like it’d help him come to his senses. Ezekiel scrubbed a hand down his mouth with his gaze lingering on her pert breasts that heaved as she tried catching her breath that he’d stolen in his altered state.
“I didn’t mean to kiss you. I just... fuck! Why did you have to bring your ass back after all this time, Kennedy?” he belabored.
Her eyes bucked at him shifting the blame like it was her fault he was the same old Ezekiel who couldn’t control his urges or his dick.
“You act like my parents don’t live here, Zeke. Like I didn’t have a life here at one point.”
“You acted like that!” he bellowed, jutting a finger at her, and she kept quiet since he was right.
Kennedy could see his frustration radiating off him as he stormed to his desk, yanking his tie loose and undoing his top few buttons before he plopped into his chair while reaching for a bottle of whiskey.
Her lips remained glued as she observed him pouring a glass with his eyes trained on a picture frame she couldn’t see since it faced him.
“Is that them?” she asked, strutting over to pick it up before he could stop her.
A fair skinned face she couldn’t forget stared back at her, while a little girl in a matching outfit with loose curls clung to her leg. Kennedy couldn’t help but wonder what her ovaries would’ve produced if he’d given her the same opportunity he chose to bestow on his wife.
“They’re cute. How old is your daughter?”
“You lost count of how long we ain’t been together?”
“Never cared to count that shit,” she quipped, putting the frame in its rightful place before copping a seat on the edge of his desk.