21. Patience #3
Sex with Royce gets better and better. I see why Naomi once told me she’d fuck Autumn just to have him.
I see why Autumn never bothered to fuck anyone else.
And then, thinking of my love, my heart freezes for just a second, but it’s enough to admit to myself no matter how good the sex is with Royce, something is still missing.
An Autumn-sized piece of our hearts.
Royce cleans me up and then the room before putting on my pants sans panties, my bra, and my top. I’m wrung out and exhausted, but where I thought he’d make a joke, he’s somber. Almost sad.
Once he’s dressed, complete with a jean jacket I missed that somehow adds to his ruggedness, he gathers me in his arms. “You good, though? No one fucking witchu right?”
I straighten up as Monty’s threats skirt through my mind, but I plaster a fake smile and nod instead.
If he’s suspicious he doesn’t say anything. He just hugs me tighter and asks me when I’m coming home.
“I have to go before the Council soon. There’s so much–”
“I know you was engaged to that nigga, Pay. You ain’t gotta stay there while you wait for some old niggas to try and tell you how to live yo life. Besides, I’d rather you home before I send his ass to his daddy.”
I cup his cheeks so he knows I’m serious. “Royce, you cannot do anything to Monty.”
His eyes harden. “You still want that nigga?”
“No!” I hiss, and I mean it. “He’s the head of the Geronimo Family.
He’s on the Council, and making a move against him is an act of war.
I refuse to let any more harm come to you guys…
I need to stay in East Kenton. The only reason I’m not rotting in a cell is because I’m a Beverly.
There’s nothing for you to do but just… let me handle it. How’s Set?”
He places his hands on top of mine and smirks.
“Changing the subject ain’t gone stop me from telling you that you ain’t handling this alone.
I need you home with me, with us, so I’ma do everything in my power to achieve that.
I told you, the only thing you need to worry about is making sure baby girl gets here.
Daddy gone handle the rest, including Monty. Say you understand, baby.”
I simper as we stare at each other. I want to disagree. I want to tell him to stand down, to let me handle it. I know he hasn’t answered about Set because he’s on the outs with them. I can only imagine the blow up they had once they figured out who I was.
But truthfully, I’m tired. I’ve been running from my past, from this devastating love for over fifteen years.
I metaphorically unalived myself and buried everything, my culture, my friendships, and Cochise, to get away from Monty and the horrible actions he’s made in order to keep me.
He took us both over the line, and on top of everything else, guilt resides on my shoulders, as I’ve raised a beautiful boy where a woman didn’t get to, because she laid down with the wrong man.
I’m tired.
“You can’t kill him, Royce. You can’t kill any of them.”
He grins. “I won’t.”
I narrow my eyes at him, but when I don't see any tricks, I nod. “I understand.”
He pecks my lips twice. “Aight. Let me walk you to the car.”
When he gets to the door I grab his hand. “No! I told you Monty–”
He collars my throat and brings me chest to chest. “I know I be real easygoing, but this the third time you’ve implied that I need to be cautious around another man .
If it ain’t God or Leroy Atkins, a nigga don’t move me.
And the next time you say some shit like that I’m stuffing my dick down yo throat in front of him to prove to you little Monty ain’t gone harm a hair on my head. Aight?”
Fuck, I wish I had on panties.
“Yes, Royce.”
He rubs his thumb affectionately on my neck before releasing me and opening the door for me.
When he follows me out, he grabs my hand, interlacing our fingers and leading the way. I avoid eye contact with all the nurses, and let Royce set our next appointment in favor of trying to finger my bob.
“That shit’s fucked up, baby. You just gone have call Letitia yo beautician.”
I flip him off, making him and the receptionist laugh before he pulls me out the women’s center.
Grimey’s leaning against the door smoking a blunt. When he sees us, he puts it out on his shoe and smiles, but I’m not fooled.
He might as well be ready to rumble.
“That’s why you ain’t want me to come, Fox?”
Turk squeezes my hand so I close my mouth again, and the smirk drops from Monty’s face.
“You get my babies home safely, nigga. No extra stops,” he boldly says, before whipping me into his arms and tonguing me down. It’s quick, but still dirty, and steals my breath away.
“I’ve murked niggas for less,” Monty growls, opening the passenger door for me.
Turk just smirks and shoves his hands in his pockets. “But you ain’t gone do shit. Not to me. Take care, bro.”
He backs away until he’s on the street and then walks into the mid morning pedestrian traffic.
“Man, get yo ass in the car, Foxtail!” he snaps.
I climb in, and I don’t bother hiding the grin on my face.
Only Royce would mark Grimey out and live to tell the tale.
Twice.