Chapter 22 Charisma
Pissed doesn’t even begin to describe what I felt last night or what I’m feeling right now. I swear that if I knew where CJ was, I would be out of here. I would have walked away from the clubhouse last night, but he sent one of the prospects after me.
He didn’t even have the decency to follow me. That was the part that hurt the most. He saw me hurting, and he didn’t care enough about me to come after me and check on me. He was only concerned about me possibly leaving the property.
Torch and Juicy claimed that he was just trying to get a rise out of me because we had argued the night before and that morning. That wasn’t the way to handle it though. I don’t have time for immaturity and playing games.
Although it hurts, I refuse to shed a tear.
I was so embarrassed yesterday, and he didn’t seem too pressed that I wasn’t speaking on the ride home.
After he dropped me off, he went back out last night, and I lay awake wondering if he had gone back to be with those women.
He didn’t come back until two in the morning, and he slept in the guest bedroom again.
I saw him in the guest bedroom this morning when I came down to eat. I’ve been coming and going up the stairs all day, and he remained asleep. It’s a little after one in the afternoon, and he steps out of the bedroom.
I hate that he looks so damn good. He’s wearing nothing but some boxer briefs, and his beard and hair is a little overgrown, not much. It’s time for him to get a haircut, but I love when it’s slightly thick like that. I love raking my fingers through his curls.
He stretches, scratches his beard, and then pulls his dick in his boxer briefs. He glances at me, and I roll my eyes. It takes a lot of strength for me not to speak to him, but I don’t, and he doesn’t press it.
He heads upstairs, and I can hear him in the shower.
A part of me wants to cry, but I refuse to cry over a man who wants to be with another woman.
I turn the channel on the TV, but I’m not watching it.
I find a notepad and pen, and I busy myself with thinking of people I want to interview on my podcast when I return and questions that I want to ask.
“You hungry?” he asks when he returns a half hour later down the steps, fully dressed, looking as if he’s about to go out. He smells good, too, and it makes my pussy throb for him. Damn, I hate his ass.
“Don’t talk to me.”
“What?” He has the nerve to have an attitude when he speaks as if I’ve done something wrong.
“I said, don’t talk to me,” I repeat with even more attitude than he has.
“Watch ya self, Charisma.”
“Fuck you, Chaos.”
He jumps over the back of the couch so fast, straddles me, and pins my arms against the back of the couch. “Who the fuck you think you talking to, Charisma?”
“You!”
“Have you lost ya gahdamn mind? You know I’ll fuck you up!” he snarls.
“No, I haven’t lost my mind, but you did!”
“The fuck are you talking about?”
The tears finally break free and flow down my face.
“You treated me like shit yesterday! Like I meant nothing to you! You didn’t have to embarrass me like that. I did nothing to you. I fucking hate you, Chaos!”
“I did nothing but what you expected me to do.”
“I thought things were changing between us, but you disrespected the hell out of me.”
“How the fuck you gon’ get upset with me for chillin’ with somebody else when you got a man?”
“I have never used him to disrespect you.”
“Yes, you did.” His gaze narrows, and his nostrils flare in anger.
Although I don’t want to ask him the question, I do. “When?”
“The minute you reminded me that you had a man and that I took you from him. Yeah, you were quick to remind me that you had the perfect man when we argued yesterday morning. If I recall correctly, he was everything a woman could want in a man. So don’t worry about what the fuck I do.
Worry about what ya man out there doing. ”
“I thought you said I belonged to you. You didn’t seem to care about that man when you were all inside of me, or had your face buried between my legs. You haven’t given a damn about him since you’ve had me holed up in your house and in your bed, refusing to let me go.”
“That right there is how I know shit will never work between us.”
“You don’t know, because you never gave us a chance.”
“I didn’t have to. You don’t need me, anyway.”
“But what if I want you?” I whisper as the fight seeps out of me.
“You shouldn’t want me. I’m no good for you, and you’re too good for me.” He grunts, releasing my arms and climbing off me.
I feel empty. Though the true threat should have been when he had me pinned against the couch with both knees on either side of my hips, his pelvis against mine, and him all in my face, it wasn’t.
The true threat is now, as he removes himself from me.
It’s not just a physical distancing that Chaos is doing, but also emotional.
I feel every block being put into place and firmed up and secure.
He towers over me in my seated position. He looks as if he’s disappointed in me. “You have no idea why I even had to leave the country. You don’t know me as well as you think you do. You have no fucking idea what I’m capable of, Charisma.”
“What does that even mean? You told me that a job went wrong and someone got killed. Did it have something to do with the job?”
“It was all about the job, Charisma. You just never knew what my job was.”
“Running guns.”
“I’m an assassin, a hitman, I kill people for a living.”
My heart races, and the blood rushes to my ears. It sounds like a river roaring, and I can barely breathe. I’m waiting for the moment that I wake up and realize this is all a bad dream, because there is no way that he just said that shit to me.
I mean, I knew that Chaos was dangerous. I knew he did some edgy shit for a living, but I had no idea how deep it went. On the other hand, I know that this is gonna sound crazy, but what the fuck? He’s that nigga! Like, my guy is really that nigga that folks don’t fuck with.
I look up at him, and I see the confusion on his face along with the worry. He’s concerned about what I think of him. It’s difficult for me to put into words what I’m feeling in this moment, because a thousand emotions run through me.
“So, who did you kill?” That is one of the questions running through my mind. Him answering that question will give me a little more time to work through my own emotions before I have to say a word to him.
“I was hired to kill a woman. I scouted the location out, figured out my plan, confirmed the details, and showed up. I did my shit and got out of there, and everything was all good. It couldn’t have been five minutes before I got the call telling me that everything had gone wrong.”
“All that time I thought you were running drugs or guns when you said you had to do a job.”
“I never sold drugs. That was the one thing my dad forbid me to do. You know that. What I realized from the minute I killed the man who killed my daddy was that I was good at killing a nigga. No emotions, no love, not a care in the world. Just take ’em straight out of here.
So, that’s why I’m no good for you. I don’t even know how to love, let alone care for anyone. ”
I stand up and face him. “That’s a damn lie! I know that you loved me, Chaos. What about our son? You love him.”
“I’ll be there for him, take care of him, and teach him all the things I wished my daddy taught me. That has nothing to do with my relationship with you. What we had was just sex, and nothing more. My heart doesn’t work that way.”
Chaos opens the lockbox, grabs his keys, and then storms out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Fuck my feelings and my heart, my whole fucking chest hurts. I drop back onto the couch, pull my knees up to my chest, and hold them.
My throat hurts as does my belly, but a gut-wrenching, guttural cry claws its way from my heart and out through my mouth.
I scream, I cry, and then I just fall apart like a baby.
Rolling onto my side and facing the back of the couch, I release all the tears of frustration and pain that have been a continual companion of mine these last five years.
I always knew that Chaos would pop up when I least expected him to. In my mind, we weren’t over; he was just hanging out somewhere, waiting to inconvenience my life. That was what made it hard for me ever to give my heart and body to another man, Ben included.
I hadn’t wanted to release him all these years, refusing to deal with the heartache that was real and visceral, but now I do. Now I give in to the depression, the raw pain, and the sorrow that Chaos and I truly are no more.