Chapter 13 #2
My lips pulled backward. A smirk lined them as I shook my head. Ishmael had stuck his dick inside of another woman and possibly produced a child with every intention of pursuing me. Men were hardly ever different.
They were all the same in so many ways. Though he wasn’t mine at the time, he planned to be. That thought alone should’ve kept his dick in his pants.
“Hmph,” I scoffed.
Silently, I screwed on the silencer.
“Royce– what the fuck are you doing?”
“By any means, Ishmael.” I sighed.
I placed the nose of my gun to his side and fired a single shot.
“Fuck!”
My eyes rolled upward.
“So dramatic.”
He didn’t as much as flench. His blood soaked his white shirt, immediately. I wished I had the heart to care or even get him a towel, but I didn’t. He’d claimed to want me vulnerable, but he’d forced me to be vicious.
I shoved my weapon in my purse and snatched up the brown paper bag. He didn’t deserve my generosity today. Neither did he deserve to eat. I hoped his stomach was the source of his discomfort all day.
“That should put you ahead in the poles.”
My right shoulder lifted and fell. I wasn’t expecting retaliation. Because, deep down, Ishmael felt like he deserved that bullet as much as I wanted to give it to him.
“Are you fucking insane?”
“Yes. And, to win, you have to be. Tight screws don’t leave room for successors. Loose screws do.”
I opened the office door with my chin high and my chest swelled. Though it was hurting, I wouldn’t let the world know it. I wouldn’t even allow Ishmael the pleasure of knowing he’d injured me. The bullet to his waist was the sweet redemption I’d settle for at the moment.
“Oh shoot.”
Matte fell inside, landing face first next to my feet.
Pathetic.
She couldn’t keep her balance if she was paid to do so.
“Girl, grow a fucking spine.”
“Sorry– I– uh–”
“And stop apologizing so much.”
“Yes. Right.”
I stepped over her thin frame. The sudden silence of the office was loud. Orbs traced every step I made. Still, I continued on my journey until I reached the elevator. I pushed the button, calling for a cart.
Ping.
I stepped inside, finally releasing the breath I’d been holding. My nostrils flared and then shrunk.
Flared and shrunk.
Flared and…
You’d better not. I chastised as the tears stung my eyeballs.
I straightened my posture and collected the parts of me that were prepared to fall apart.
I was trained for crisis. What I hadn’t been trained for was heartbreak.
And, seeing the face of a woman who could be carrying the child of the man I had fallen head first for was enough to break the toughest of soldiers.
Ping.
Cameras greeted me as I stepped off the elevator.
“Vote Grayson November 2nd,” I suggested, making my way out of the building.
A set of keys landed on the counter in the kitchen. An unpleasant fragrance filled the air. Giggles gripped the pieces of my sanity that I had left.
“Alright, girl. I just made it home. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay. I’ll text you if I hear something from him. I’m sure I’m in for a long day. He’s deep in his feelings.”
“You know how men are. Dish it but can’t take it.”
“At least yours isn’t a nutcase.”
A chuckle followed.
“That has yet to be determined.”
“Right. We’ll see soon enough. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Later, Tish.”
The FaceTime call ended. I observed the petite, round-faced woman in a fitted top and pants that matched. Her skin was glistening, a sign she’d just come from the gym.
“Good evening, Asia.”
A hand went to her chest. Another hand went to her stomach. A dagger pushed through my heart. I grimaced from the pain.
“Fuck! What are yo– you doing here?”
I placed the glass of wine I’d poured myself on the table.
“I’ve come to get to the bottom of this–mess.”
I stood on my feet, bringing my Glock along with me.
“Cheap wine, love. Very cheap. I’ve left a list of quality reds and whites on the notepad on your counter.”
“Wha…”
“Seeing as though this bottle and a few more are in the trash, I suggest you start talking or I start filing paperwork for full custody of the child you’re carrying. From the heaviness of that trash bag, it’s clear they’re going to suffer with basic cognitive functions.”
“Excuse me.”
“A glass of wine here and there, fine. But, we’re talking, mental delays, slobbering, physical challenges, speech impediment, helmet head, diapers until they’re fiv–”
“I get your fucking point.”
“Good then, I don’t have to further explain why I’m holding this.”
The pregnancy test rested between my fingers.
“I want you to leave my home. Right now.”
“This– uh–” I looked around her indecent pad.
The DIY project was rather grotesque. Toddler art lined the walls, yet there wasn’t a toddler in the home. Neither had she birthed one. Her scribbles told a different story from the one I’d learned over the last six hours.
“Dwelling belongs to Hershel Holdings. And, it is far from a home sweetie. It doesn’t even meet the requirements of a house.”
“I don’t give a f–”
“Lower your voice when you’re speaking to me. You’re at a ten. I need you to be at a two or I’ll be forced to put two in you… giving you something to actually scream about.”
Her face was beet red. Veins protruded from her forehead. She was unraveling. Her anger was beginning to peak. I was quiet. Observant. Waiting for the slightest movement in my direction, because she was going to be a dead ass, mad ass bitch.
“You come into my home making demands and you expect me to be calm?”
“I do.”
I shrugged, closing the gap between us. It was difficult to maneuver the living room. The brick-hard couch was far too big for the space it occupied.
“And I expect you to bring your sweaty pussy into the bathroom and piss on this stick.”
“Get out,” she demanded, pointing toward the door.
“This way, Asia.”
I nodded toward the guest bathroom.
“Or–”
I pulled the steel of my Glock, placing one in the chamber.
“You can piss yourself right the fuck here. I’m not above catching it on the stick myself.”
“I’ve had it. It’s not good enough for you to be risking your freedom for him.”
Scoffing, I smiled. “You and me will never have the same dick. Not even if it’s on the same nigga. Please know that we are very different, Asia. The dick he gives you is not the same dick he gave me. We don’t share the same experience. Hopefully your bird ass brain can comprehend that concept.”
I straightened my spine.
“Furthermore, there’s nothing a man could ever say or do to have me at the door of a woman he’s fucking. This is beyond Ishmael and I. I have a job to do. Unfortunately, you and your drunk fetus are part of that job. Now, to the bathroom. I won’t ask again.”
Her feet began to move. Her mouth stopped moving. I followed her into the guest bathroom. She pulled the door closed behind her.
“Not today, love.”
I pushed the door open, handing her the test. With a roll of her eyes, she grabbed the stick and uncapped it. She laid it on the counter and pulled her pants down.
I admired my frame in the full-sized mirror as she followed instructions. The pain of my heart hadn’t reached my eyes. The lines in my forehead settled as I relaxed my facial muscles.
My mascara coated lashes were flourishing. The chocolate ends of the hair I wore matched perfectly with the chocolate leggings and top I’d traded my skirt and button down for. Clear gloss made my lips glisten.
Range’s features were so prominent on my face.
Sometimes, I felt like it was her I favored most. Other days, it was Rather I felt I resembled most. Every so often, Roaman was the winner.
But, Rhea and Richie were the true champions.
They’d meshed well together, making seven versions of the same daughter.
The five foot stature pushed past me. Before she was able to cross the threshold, a hand was around her arm, pulling her back inside.
“Wash your hands, Ms. Bacteria.”
Asia squirted soap onto her hands from the dispenser. She twisted the knobs on the sink and ran her soapy hands underneath the water. She dried them with the hand towel on the wall.
I guess that wasn’t for decoration.
She tried smoothing the wrinkles. She managed to pull the towel from the rack in the process. Frustrated, she folded it up and tried replacing it.
Or. I tilted my head, trying to make sense of her misfortune. Maybe it is for decoration.
Baffled, I released the air from my lungs.
Asia disabled the water. She turned to leave. Her departure wouldn’t be allowed. I wanted eyes on her at all times until we got to the bottom of this situation.
Ishmael was days away from the biggest fight of his life. Strays were hitting him left and right. He needed a victory. I would ensure he received that before the biggest night of his life.
“One more minute.”
Her arms folded over her chest. She pressed her back against the wall. Her body was quivering. She couldn’t keep her hands steady. Her nervous system was under attack.
“Is there anything you care to tell me, Asia?”
Silence.
“Suits me.”
I smoothed the invisible wrinkles from my shirt. Asia’s foot tapped against the tile anxiously. Time was on my side. I was in no hurry.
Still, I was curious of the test results. I stepped closer to the sink, peering down at the window that would determine our fate.
Not Pregnant.
My suspicions were confirmed.
“A Black man is willing to carry Berkeley on his back and halt the destruction of a city that carries so much of Huffington’s history–” I paused, kissing the skin of my teeth.
“And, you’re willing to help destroy him, his credibility, and his chance at being Mayor for what, Asia?”
Silence.
With a shake of my head, I picked up the pregnancy test.
“Hold it.”
I lifted her left hand and shoved the stick between her fingers.
“Wh–”
“Shut the fuck up. I gave you two chances to talk. You don’t get a third one.”
I lifted her arm, placing the pregnancy test next to her face.
“Smile for the camera.”