Chapter Twenty #2
“No,” I said sharply. “I didn’t tell her we were together
for years, and she was mad at me. She didn’t tell me about you and Liam, and I
was mad at her. I thought we got beyond these lies.”
“None of you have accepted Kenneth. I can’t speak for her,
but if I had to guess, she doesn’t want to give you more ammunition for keeping
him out of the pack.”
“I like Kenneth!” I exclaimed.
“You think he’s touched.”
“I still like him.”
He dropped his head back and whispered, “Jesus Christ,” to
the ceiling.
“Darius,” I called.
He looked at me.
“I love you, heart and soul, and honest to God, I wasn’t
keeping the news about Michael from you because I didn’t trust you with it. I’m
living in a cloud of happy goodness, and I wanted to just hang here for a
while, and I like you being here with me.”
“A cloud of happy goodness?”
“It’s fluffy.”
He stared at me.
I stared at him.
“Fuck, I love you,” he said.
“Are we going to have sex on the kitchen island?” I asked
hopefully.
“Absolutely,” he answered.
I could tell he was going to make a move to initiate that.
Except he couldn’t.
The doorbell rang, and when I say that, I mean someone was
leaning on it so it didn’t stop.
Alarm sizzled over the surface of my skin.
“Stay here,” Darius bit, and avoided me standing frozen
right in his space as he got off the stool and went straight to the laundry
room.
He came out of it with a gun.
“Where’d you get that?” I asked, my eyes rounding.
“Gun safe.”
“There’s a gun safe in the laundry room? I didn’t know
that.”
“I know,” he said as he moved into the living room.
By the way, through all of this, the doorbell didn’t quit
going.
I went to my purse, nabbed my phone, and was wondering if I
should have 911 ready, or Lee, or alternately Eddie, when I heard Tex boom,
“About fuckin’ time. I was out there forever.”
I dropped my phone and went to the doorway between the
kitchen and living room to see Tex walking in with a pet carrier in one hand
and a massive Petsmart bag that looked heavy hefted
over his other shoulder, like he was Santa Clause.
“Yo, woman,” he said to me,
shrugged the bag off his shoulder and set it down with a thunk.
He then put the pet carrier down and unlatched the gate.
Tentatively, an utterly adorable, teeny, tiny, black and
white tiger striped kitty slunk out of the crate, gazing around curiously.
“Kitty!” I squealed and dashed forward.
The kitty froze at my motions so I caught her (or him)
before she (or he) could retreat to the crate.
I picked her (or him) up and cuddled her (or him) to my
face.
Her (or his) fur felt just like silk.
Oh my God.
Instant love.
I looked to Darius. “Oh my God, honey. Kitty.”
“See I picked the right one,” Tex said, watching me
contentedly.
Darius swung disbelieving eyes to Tex.
“Get over it,” Tex told him when he caught them. “You got a
family now. Every family needs a cat.”
“Maybe you’d wanna ask first?” Darius suggested.
“You might say no,” he returned. He then jerked his head to
me. “Though, she says yes. Anyway, quit bitchin’. I gave you time to settle
in.” He lightly kicked the Petsmart bag with the toe
of his boot. “Litter. Kitten food. Kitty paté.” He turned to me. “They need a
little bit a’ wet. Better protein delivery. But it fucks up their teeth. So
they also need dry.” Back he went to Darius. “Toys. Treats. I got the litterbox
in the car. And a litter mat is in the bag because they track that shit
everywhere.”
Darius sighed.
Tex kept talking.
“Got his shots.” So it was a he. “And you’ll have to take
him back in to be fixed. Also got a good vet. I’ll get you the number.”
He walked to me and scratched the kitten’s head with his
big, rough fingers, and the kitty squinted his eyes with happiness.
God.
I loved him with all my heart.
“Named him Scrapper,” he told me. “’Cause
he’s a scrapper. Found him alone in my alley. Scrawny as all get out. Barely
alive. Bottle fed him. He pulled through.” He stopped scratching and said,
“Also knew I was givin’ him to you, and it’s perfect.
Because you and your man are definitely scrappers. Life sucker punched both a’
you, neither of you went down. Even if it kept hitting you, you kept your feet
and carried on scrappin’. Found your way back to each
other. Got yourself the lives you deserve. That means nothin’ll
ever get you down. Because you two are scrappers.”
I stood motionless, staring at him, but even as moved as I
was by what he’d said, I realized Darius was doing the same as me.
“Obviously, you can name him whatever you want,” Tex
concluded. Then boomed, “Welp! Gotta go get the litter box then I’ll be out of
your hair.”
And with no further ado, he lumbered out the front door.
I looked to Darius. “Can we keep him?”
He was looking at me and I knew with the way his face got
soft what his answer would be.
“Look at you, woman. What do you think I’m gonna say?”
“The same thing Mister Morris would say.”
He closed his eyes and dropped his head.
I held my breath and waited.
He lifted his head and opened his eyes.
When he did, I knew he saw what I saw when I looked at him,
and maybe, just a little (it was a start and I’d take it), he believed what I
already knew.
He proved my thoughts correct when finally, finally,
he said…
“Exactly.”