Chapter 22
Mona
As Uncle Silas and Auntie Clara’s phones rang, Azaria shoveled yellow rice into her mouth with her fingers and grinned. “Vroom! Vroom! Boom! Boom!”
While they retrieved their phones, eyeing the screens carefully before looking at each other, I enjoyed the oxtails I cooked.
Winking at my beautiful one, I smiled and nodded.
Since we moved into our apartment last week, we’ve cruised around the city, listening to our favorite songs and enjoying the stifling summer heat over delicious treats.
“What the fuck did you say, Yasmin Abbott?” Uncle Silas and Auntie Clara bellowed, causing me to roll my eyes.
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Looking at my phone, I saw Kingdon’s name. He and King were the only ones who could get through to me. The others could kiss my ass. That action was courtesy of me finally realizing I didn’t fully banish the motherfuckas who left me unwilling to air out that I was being harmed.
“That’s why she told us not to give anyone her address.
King, tell a crying Min to shut the fuck up.
She wasn’t quick to cry while her cousin was at that motherfucking door, trying her best not to beg for help.
No one is speaking to Mona unless she calls y’all.
Good evening,” Uncle Silas hissed as Auntie Clara laid out their only child.
Ah, y’all learned lil miss princess is a bitch ass skeezah, I thought, unbothered while devouring the meat that fell off the bone.
“Your blood family first, is what I’ve always taught you, Min! Your extended family is second! He could’ve killed her!” Auntie Clara screamed in a heated voice as my front door was kicked open.
“Get down now!” I hollered, in fight mode as I shoved the barstool from me, grabbed my gun, and spun on my heels.
“You’on hide from meeee!” a shirtless Thiago bellowed, walking in my direction and dropping his guns on the ground.
“Thiago, what the hell?” I fussed, rising from the ground. “You scared the shit out of Azaria, my uncle, and auntie.
“You’on hide from meeeee!” he yelled painfully as I realized tears blanketed his face.
My heartstrings tugged as I put my gun up. Soothing, I said, “I’m not hiding, Thiago. I’m healing. That requires quietness so I can hear my real thoughts.”
“What the fuck, Thiago?” Tiberius and Tobias held out, stepping into my apartment with a door that hung off the hinges.
“You’on hide from meeeee!” he yelled, fingers curling into his palms as he stomped farther in my direction.
Slowly nodding and feeling the hurt ravaging him, I thought it was best to give him the latest updates about my life.
While smoothing my hair from my face, I searched his sad, red eyes and said, “I’m sorry for not responding to your texts or answering your calls.
I needed to hear the thoughts that mattered the most. They were all over the place.
I’ve been reading and studying. I’ve signed up for G.E.D.
classes. I’ve been going for a week now.
I’m doing well. Azaria’s in daycare. No jobs are biting my line now. I’m sure they will, though.”
His head bobbed as he placed his hands on the waistline of my jeans. Gently, he pulled me to him. Through gritted teeth, he said, “I would’ve snatched yo’ ass to me, but I’on want you to think I’m gon’ hurt you.”
“Thanks,” I offered, staring into eyes that caused me to look at the ground.
“Look at me, Mona,” he ordered slowly, hostile behavior gone like pollen during a rainstorm.
As I looked up at him, he continued pulling me closer to him.
Through wavering lips, he said, “I’m proud of yo’ accomplishments.
That tells me that you ain’t depressed, sad, yes, but not fucked up in the head.
I’m gon’ host yo’ G.E.D. graduation party as I said I was gon’ do.
I’m still willin’ to be yo’ tutor. As far as a job, don’t stress ’bout shit.
If you need money, I got you covered. Always an’ forever. ”
“I’m good on the money. I want a job,” I said, realizing I was very close to Thiago as he looked at me longingly.
The tension surely became thick as I swallowed hard and took four steps backward. My fingers moved faster than Azaria’s when she saw something she needed to have in her hands. I was nervous, unsure what to say to kill whatever was scurrying around his mind.
I was in motion to take two more steps backward when Thiago swirled into my presence, wrapped his arms around my waist, and whispered, “Love high on my scale fo’ you to the point I’m beatin’ my dick thinkin’ ‘bout you. Been doing that shit fo’ ‘bout eight months, nih. The only reason I’m whisperin’ ‘cause of Azaria. If she wasn’t here, I would be yellin’ that shit. I’on give no fucks.”
Shock had my mouth open, allowing him easy access to slither his long, wide, minty tongue into my mouth.
“Fuck! Thiago, nooooo!” Tiberius and Tobias hollered, sounding as if they were running toward us. Feelings of desperation or something caused me to reciprocate the slow, nasty, pussy tingling kiss.
“I’m surprised you big bitches ain’t see that comin’. That man ran six lights wit’ ease once his informant told him where they livin’! Got his truck at this damn door like a foldin’ chair.” Thames laughed as boots shuffled near us.
“Oooou my damn!” Uncle Silas held out, stunned, as I suckled on Thiago’s tongue nice-and-slow while he slid me up his body.
“Stop all of that moving. You don’t need to see at the moment,” Auntie Clara said as if she was smiling.
“Man, come on, bruh. She’s a homie’s soon-to-be ex-wife. Whatever yo’ married ass feelin’, you need to put that shit back innabox,” Tiberius coached as he pulled Thiago and Tobias pulled me.
They had a hard time getting the menace from me as he had a mean hold on my tongue and waist. I didn’t want to let Thiago go.
I felt a little bit safer in his arms. He was giving me something back.
I wasn’t quite sure what it was. But he and his kiss were rejuvenating something deep within me that August Senior took away months after we started dating.
“Let her go, Thiago, man. Damn,” Tiberius declared angrily, increasing Thames laughter as a bag of chips opened from the front door.
In my ear, Tobias softly said, “Come on, Mona. This ain’t the move.
I know August Senior hurt you so bad that you’on know which way to turn.
All of us homies. Thiago ain’t wrapped tight in the head, an’ you know this.
Thiago married happily wit’ kids. I’on know what this is he doing, but it ain’t the move fo’ none of us.
You vulnerable. Break free from my brother. I’m beggin’.”
Just like that, August Senior’s words of me being nothing but a good dick-sucking gobbling slammed into my head.
I shoved Tobias and Thiago away from me.
Stumbling away from them, hearing all the bad things and seeing it, I pointed at my door and stuttered, “Have my door fixed as soon as possible and get out. Don’t come back.
None of you. Y’all are the Abbotts friends, not mine. ”
Wiping the corners of his mouth, Thiago upped his pistol and patted his leg. Thames laughed harder as nothing in my household was laughable. It was downright sad and pitiful on my behalf.
Tapping his gun on his leg, Thiago moved his head like children did while flying an airplane.
Gazing at me, he coolly breathed. “You heard what I whispered to you. I’on know what that thick back bastard brother of mine told you that got you tremblin’ an’ me close to airin’ out the city all …
night … long. But know this here, I’ll divorce my wife fo’ you, an’ always take care of her an’ my kids.
I ain’t try to find you interestin’ enough to want to beat this dick into a coma.
I ain’t even want yo’ number ‘cause som’ shit was creepin’ ‘round me when it came to you. If I had known I would have my tongue in yo’ mouth, I would’ve never asked my wife to be my wife.
In six months, I’mma take shit to Hell ‘cause I’m tired of thinkin’ ‘bout you in ways I’on supposed to ‘cause you’s a homie guh.
You ain’t that homie guh no mo’. When you heal, you gon’ be mine unless you’on wanna be that.
If you decide you do, I promise won’t be no bloodshed.
I promise ain’t a bitch or nigga in the streets gon’ say shit to Thiago or you ‘bout us. I’mma still hoop wit’ yo’ soon-to-be ex-husband.
I’mma be the nigga who gon’ take his churren to him every motherfuckin’ Friday night an’ pick they ass up promptly at four p.m. every motherfuckin’ Sunday.
‘Cause I know you gotta relearn the you after a nigga hurt you to yo’ skeleton, I ain’t gon’ make no mo’ advances at you.
But ya ass better be ready to give me an answer if you gon’ be mine …
yo’ last nigga … in six motherfuckin’ months.
Don’t drank that lil one cup of red wine that’s good fo’ the blood an’ get horny an’ call me.
I’mma eat an’ stroke August Abbott from yo’ mind.
To further shit, ‘cause I feel I know what may be cruisin’ ‘round yo’ mind …
you ain’t gon’ be allowed to suck this dick ‘til a year from when you say you mine. That pussy gon’ suck it enough. Court adjourned.”
“Gotdamn it!” Thames hooted as I was a trembling mess watching Thiago wickedly smile before walking toward the door.
“Tiberius, ‘head to the rental office an’ let that bitch know to get the maintenance man down here, or I’mma be sittin’ on her headboard wit’ a bag of salt and vinegar chips ready to take her eyesight away,” Thiago ordered.
My bad thoughts were nonexistent as I saw Tiberius put his phone to his ear. I was in pure disbelief of everything that was done and said since Thiago kicked in my door.
Rubbing my forehead, trying to figure out how to manage a situation six months from now. Meanwhile, taps from my kitchen table drew me to look that way. Auntie Clara cooed, “My God when you slam a door shut … another tastier door open! Amen!”
“Amen, Mrs. Clara! Ament!” Thiago hollered as I slapped my teeth together and cleared my throat.
“Whew, the temperature in this apartment has risen so high that I don’t want to go home. I need to see what’s going to happen next.” Auntie Clara giggled as Mafia Niggaz’s by Three 6 Mafia blasted at my front door.
My left eyelid and stomach fluttered. My head rocked like a bobble head. My smile was genuine as I repeatedly said, “Yeah, hoe.”
Weed smoke floated into my apartment, causing me to look toward the door.
A head-rocking Thiago was on his truck’s hood, squatting, staring at me.
A gorgeous stick was in his left hand as he inhaled that good good.
Feeling something in me being summoned upfront, but unsure what it was, I walked toward the door.
The more I walked, the more Thiago smiled.
The more he showed his beautiful smile, the harder I rapped Crunchy Black’s verse.
Upon the song’s ending, he didn’t say anything as he stood tall, sluggishly exhaling the thick smoke.
Young Scooter’s “Columbia” boomed from his truck, causing my knees to buckle.
The vibrations running from Thiago’s truck were heaven-sent to a body that hadn’t felt the effects of my speakers at their loudest in weeks.
Hopping off his truck, Thiago walked to the open driver’s door.
As he looked at me, the music paused. Hopping on the black rails, he said, “Yo’ light was dimmed, not put out.
I’mma brang yo’ light all the way back. You gotta be willin’ to allow it back in, no matter the time or day.
You gon’ survive that tornado you came from, Mona.
‘Cause I ain’t gon’ accept none less. I know that nigga ain’t doing his duties wit’ Azaria so you can beat the block down.
So, this what I propose … I pick her up from daycare three days out the week, take her to the park wit’ my kids, get her fulla food an’ sweets befo’ bringin’ her home.
You got six hours to respond yes or no to that. See ya later.”
Just like that, Thiago left me speechless. I hated he had to leave; yet it was for the best. He didn’t resume beating down the block until he let me hear what his truck tires had to say.
With my head swarming, stomach tightening, and uncertainty hopscotching all over my body, I shook my head and giggled. “When I’m at my best, I’mma show you how to really make your tires sing.”
“Sweet Jesus, Mona, sweetie, we need to talk about what just happened,” Uncle Silas held out, disappointedly.
“You want that nigga to be in yo’ gotdamn house wit’ alladem cats an’ shit?
You know Thiago don’t do well wit’ cats!
He already gon’ have a bag of salt an’ vinegar chips.
You pissed up them sheets when he flicked them crumbs in yo’ eyes last time.
You gon’ have cat hair every-motherfuckin’-where, this time!
I ain’t got time to have my back bussed open by Momma ‘cause I don’ brought alladem dead ass cats’ guts into her house ‘cause that shit ain’t finna be in my household!
Won’t a fuckin’ pet cemetery reside where I live!
Get that drug-headed ass maintenance nigga out here an’ fix 16B’s door!
He got alla sixty minutes to fix that motherfucka correctly, or …
I’mma … call … Thiago,” Tiberius spoke sternly.
“My God.” Auntie Clara giggled as Uncle Silas called my name with more urgency.
Walking toward my plate that needed to be warmed, I gave him my undivided attention as I said, “Yes, sir.”
“We need to talk about what just happened,” he said, sitting at the table.
Searching his worried eyes, I shook my head slowly like Azaria when she didn’t want to stop playing with her dolls in the tub.
Feeling giddy and silly, I grinned. “No, Uncle Silas, we don’t have to talk about it until six months from now.
That’s when the pressure will for sure be applied.
As you and Auntie Clara said, I shouldn’t let what happened between August Senior and me deter love from my life.
So what if it just so happens to land between my soon-to-be ex-husband’s homie and me.
Let’s continue our meal. I’m excited to read to y’all and Azaria. ”