Chapter 8 #2
“Damn,” Zeke mumbled, stroking his chin. “You right. I—damn!”
“You want me to take this bitch back to the block?” Cash asked.
Zeke glanced at him, roughly ran his hand over the top of his head again and shook it.
Kiss said a couple of words. Called Zeke dumb.
Said he’d wasted our time. Said he’d done all of that shit for no reason.
Said he was the one responsible. Said that if anybody needed to be strapped to the chair it was him.
Zeke ate it. Took it and didn’t say shit.
If I said I was surprised by any of this, I’d be lying.
This was Zeke. Wild card. Impulsive. Quick to prove a point.
Or try to at least. It wasn’t what happened that weighed heavy on him—it was what I thought that had him down.
He didn’t like to look incompetent. He didn’t like to look like the fuck up that he was.
He wanted to correct it. This didn’t correct a thing.
This made things harder. Not on him, but on me.
I had a ton of patience. Despite Zeke constantly weighing heavy on it…
I was patient. He was baby bro—some things would fall between the cracks with him.
I watched as he kneeled at the chair. Looking up, he asked Cash for a knife to unleash her.
Cash walked up, handed him a pocket knife, and Zeke slashed at the thick tape.
Before she could get her legs good enough away from the chair, I walked up, put my gun against her head and pulled the trigger, catching Zeke and Cash off guard.
Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath and mumbled, “Father forgive me.”
Zeke, steady kneeling at the chair, covered in ‘Becky’, hung his head low. I didn’t know if it was with disappointment or embarrassment. Either way, I didn’t give a fuck.
She couldn’t just go.
I couldn’t just let her walk out of here.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Zeke… he couldn’t have been that stupid to think I’d let the bitch walk. She was a crackhead, yeah. But she was a crackhead who had been close to getting murdered and she’d seen my face.
“I was goin’ take her back to the block…” mumbled Cash as I walked by him, heading out of the warehouse.
“She said what?” I asked Rocc, holding my phone on my shoulder with my head, as I peeled moms an orange.
He took a deep breath and paused. “She ain’t riding with me. She don’t know me. Slammed the door in my face and everything.”
I sucked my teeth and took the phone off my shoulder.
Hitting the FaceTime button, I told him to knock on the door again.
He was at Sereia’s spot, picking her up for me.
I texted her a couple ago, letting her know a ride was coming for her.
She didn’t like it. Said she wasn’t getting in the car with just anybody.
I didn’t think she was serious, so I paid it no mind and sent Rocc to grab her anyway.
She was dead ass apparently.
After Rocc tapped on the door again, I pushed the oranges aside and stared into the camera, waiting for her to open up. A couple of seconds later, the door opened and she peeked out. When I saw her face, I called her name.
“I just told you I was sending somebody to come scoop you—”
“And I told you I wasn’t getting in the car with just anybody.”
I brushed my hand down over my head and looked towards the living room where my mother sat in her usual spot, watching The Bernie Mac Show.
“I need you to leave with him, Sereia. I’m tied up at the moment. Can’t leave. If I could, I would have came and got you. You know that right?”
She scratched the back of her head and looked off. “Why couldn’t you have sent Kiss or… Zeke?”
“Tied up, too. Rocc’s a good dude. I trust him. That says a lot. So,” I paused and took a deep breath. “You can too.”
“I don’t even know what you got me on,” she mumbled, shaking her head.
I understood her hesitation. I mean, I really did. If the roles were reversed, I would have been a little hesitant too but there were facts in this situation that should have made her comfortable.
“Type of time I been on since we met that night?” I asked.
“Huh?”
“What have I shown you since we met?” I asked, leaning on the island, staring at her. She was dressed the way I asked her to be. In black leggings, a white shirt.
She frowned and stammered over her words, hesitant to say what she really felt. “I don’t know. I guess… I don’t know. What that got to do with anything?”
I took a deep breath and shook my head, looking off into the living room again. “I need you to leave with Rocc, sweetheart.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and turned the corners of her mouth up before closing the door in our faces.
Rocc got back into the phone, shaking his head. “How you want me to move, Big Dawg?”
I stood up straight and finished cutting the orange. “Wait. She’s coming back out. This time, to go.”
A couple of minutes later, I heard the door open and Rocc flipped the camera, showing me her.
She had on a jean jacket, her purse draped over her shoulder, and a pink pocketknife in her hand.
She flashed it at Rocc and tossed a few threatening words his way.
Instead of taking it seriously, Rocc snorted, laughed a little and got back into the camera.
“Aight bro. I’m on my way—
“Stay on the phone,” Sereia interrupted. “I want you to see what I do to your mans if he try anything with me.”
I laughed. “Man what?”
She didn’t say anything. Rocc looked into the camera with raised brows and a smile.
Neither of us were worried about her little ass.
She couldn’t have been no more than 5’2, around 160lbs.
She wasn’t a threat. Not with that knife, not even with a blick if she had one on her.
Rocc didn’t just run errands and check on shit for me; he was security.
Very accredited with his shit too. Sereia was out her damn mind.
“Yeah okay,” I said. “I’ll see you in a couple.”
Rocc flipped the camera again and I got a glimpse of the worry in her face.
She gripped the strap to her knock off Prada bag and I took a deep breath.
Instead of saying anything, I hung up and carried the plate of fruit over to my ma.
After sitting it on the table, I sat on the couch and picked my phone back up to call Sereia.
She answered after the third ring.
“Hello?” She asked, sounding puzzled.
“Relax,” I told her, shifting my eyes over to the TV. “What you eat for breakfast?”
She was quiet for a couple of seconds before mumbling, “A sausage and pancake corn dog.”
I frowned. “You eat that fake ass shit?”
“With extra syrup,” she proudly said.
I shook my head and crossed my arm over my chest, slouched down on the couch. “What would you have rather eaten?”
“Huh?”
“If you had a choice, what would you have eaten?”
I was giving her comfort. She was worried so…
I called to comfort her. Didn’t really give a fuck about what she ate or what she wanted to eat.
She was a worrier. Which again, I understood.
She didn’t know me for real. Didn’t know what I had her on.
Like me, though, she was moving with faith.
Because she was hesitant about leaving with Rocc I knew she’d probably been battling between fucking with me or not, all night.
Sereia was apprehensive. Questioned shit a lot.
Of course, she did… look at where she came from.
Niggas didn’t usually show up on doorsteps with envelopes full of money, help with funeral services, or offer jobs in The Woods.
I was an anomaly, for real. She had every right to question what was going on.
Especially since it was coming from me and not Solo.
I was the mean one. The quiet one. The asshole.
Big 6’3, 250lb, intimidating nigga. I wanted her to chill though.
She’d done enough worrying and overthinking in her life.
I wanted her to be at ease when it came to dealing with me.
“Cheese eggs, bacon and hashbrowns with cheese,” she softly said.
“I bet you be gassy as hell, eatin’ all that cheese. I can’t fuck with it. I’m lactose intolerant.”
She laughed and I smirked. There we go. She was loosening up.
About forty minutes later, the security system let me know Rocc was pulling in.
I pushed up from the couch and headed for the front door to let them in.
When I opened the door, Sereia turned around to face me.
She eyed me up and down and I looked down at myself, wondering if a nigga was dressed weird or some shit.
I had on a pair of red hoop shorts and a black beater.
On my feet were a pair of my Balenci’s. I was straight. Fuck was she looking at?
With pinched brows, I stepped aside to let her in.
“‘Preciate it, my baby. Check on that one thing for me, aight?” I said to Rocc who stood at the bottom of the porch.
He saluted me and told me he would get up with me in a little bit. I watched him walk away before turning my attention back to Sereia who hadn’t moved.
“You gon’ come in?” I asked.
“You didn’t tell me I could.”
“I stepped aside.”
“But you didn’t—
“Come in, Sereia.” Shaking my head, I said, “You a vampire or some shit? You need an invitation? The fuck?”
Sweetly, she smiled and placed a piece of hair behind her ear.
Because I was starting to pick up on her personality, I knew the smile wasn’t genuine. She was being sarcastic.
“If I was, it would be too late now, wouldn’t it? Not Exodus Christ lackin’.”
I laughed and eyed her. “Yeah, aight.”
She was silly.
I liked that shit.
Once she was inside, I closed and locked the door behind her. She stood in the grand foyer, hand resting on her little replica bag, looking around, eying the skylight. Before I could tell her to, she slid out of a pair of pink Crocs that had seen better days and sat them on the shoe rack.
“This is nice,” she complimented.
“Thank you,” I said. “You can put a pair of the slides on if—