Chapter 22
Levels Night Club
Me and Pluto decided to take a break from our husbands, and live it up a lil’, ‘cause between Kay’Lo losin’ his damn mind about every tiny thing and Pressure actin’ like Pluto was a damn blow-up doll, we deserved some fresh air, some music, and some liquor that wasn’t poured in the kitchen.
We had us a whole section in the corner of the lounge, away from the crowd but close enough to feel the bass thumpin’ beneath our feet.
They brought out bottles, sparkles, hookah, wings, everything we needed for a girls’ night that was long overdue.
The lounge was packed in a fun way, not a rowdy way, and everybody around us was just vibin’, dancin’, smokin’, flirtin’, and mindin’ they business.
Me and Pluto fit right in, two married women hidin’ from our chaotic ass husbands for just one night.
Pluto had on this cute lil’ black dress that hugged her body soft, and she kept swayin’ side to side, goin’ from gigglin’ to dancin’ to takin’ shots with me.
Her hair was perfect, her perfume was floatin’ in the air, and she looked like she actually remembered what it felt like to have fun before she had two babies back-to-back.
I was loungin’ on the couch with the hookah hose in my hand, blowin’ cherry mint smoke in slow circles while my song came on.
“Bitch, this my shit,” I said, gettin’ up and movin’ my hips while Pluto laughed at me.
“You drunk already,” she teased, takin’ a sip of her drink.
“I’m not drunk,” I said, holdin’ my cup up. “I’m unwindin’. Bitch, you the drunk one.”
She laughed again and clinked her glass with mine, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I wasn’t somebody’s wife or somebody’s caretaker or somebody’s emotional punchin’ bag. I was just Toni, havin’ a good night with my girl.
We had about an hour left before the lounge closed, so we was really in our element.
I was dancin’ while Pluto hyped me up, then she got up and started movin’ with me, and we was yellin’ the words to the song like we was really some damn gangstas.
The hookah smoke drifted through the lights above us, the DJ switched tracks, and the whole place felt warm and carefree.
Then… somethin’ made me pause.
I felt a weird sting at the back of my neck. It was the type you get when somebody’s starin’ at you or when the vibe shifts just enough to make your brain pay attention.
I glanced toward the crowd.
Somebody tall walked past the main walkway in that slow, irritated, deadly way a certain nigga I knew did whenever he walked into a room mad as hell.
I blinked twice.
“Pluto…” I whispered without lookin’ away.
She was too busy dancin’ to notice the panic buildin’ in my chest.
At first I thought I was trippin’. Maybe the liquor was makin’ me hallucinate big-bearded husbands with attitude problems. Maybe it was just another tall dark-skinned nigga with a hoodie on, movin’ through the crowd.
Then I saw him again.
The same height.
The same build.
The same “I’m lookin’ for somebody to drag up outta here” energy radiatin’ off him.
The nigga walked past the lights again, and this time he pushed somebody out his damn way. The dude barely bumped him, and he still shoved his shoulder like he was clearin’ a path.
There was no mistakin’ that energy.
My heart did a whole somersault.
“Pluto…” I said louder.
She still ain’t hear me.
I grabbed her wrist.
“Pluto, bitch, look around,” I hissed.
“What?” she asked, confused but smilin’.
“Pluto,” I repeated, my voice gettin’ tight. “Pressure is in the fuckin’ lounge, bitch.”
Her whole face dropped like somebody unplugged her soul.
“WHAT?” she whisper-yelled, her eyes wide as hell.
“Bitch, yes.” I leaned closer. “He walkin’ around like he the police lookin’ for witnesses.”
Pluto spun her head so fast I thought she was gon’ sprain her damn neck. She looked left, right, up, down, tryna see through the crowd.
And then she saw him.
It was Pressure’s crazy ass…
In a hoodie…
In a rage…
Pacin’ through the lounge like a hood version of the grim reaper.
Pluto covered her mouth. “Oh my God.”
“Oh my God is right,” I said, my stomach droppin’. “If Pressure here… then KAY’LO is probably—”
Before I could finish the sentence, Pressure cut through the crowd like the Red Sea was partin’ for him. His eyes locked on Pluto first, then me, and the way his jaw clenched let me know he was two seconds away from flippin’ tables.
He pointed straight at us and shouted over the music:
“PLUTO! Your kids is in the fuckin’ truck!”
The entire section went quiet.
Pluto’s mouth fell open. “You did NOT bring my babies out this late.”
Pressure blinked slow, that signature irritated blink. “Yes the fuck I did. Since you so busy, apparently. Too busy to answer yo’ damn phone. Too busy to ask how yo’ kids was doin’. Too busy to tell me you was in a damn club actin’ like you single.”
Pluto looked like she wanted to fight him and cry at the same time. “Are you insane? Why would you drag my babies out—”
Pressure talked right over her. “Nah don’t even start. Get ya shit. Get up. Let’s go.”
The way people started movin’ away from our section told me they felt the danger in the air too.
Because mad Pressure?
Yeah… that wasn’t somebody you wanted to share oxygen with.
Pluto tried to argue, but he threw his hand up, pointin’ toward the door. “Pluto Mensah, don’t make me come get you. Toni, bring yo’ ass on too.”
“Oh, hell no,” she muttered, grabbin’ her purse and stompin’ ahead of him.
I was frozen for a second ‘cause if Pressure was here, then…
The whole walk, Pressure and Pluto argued, while I shook my head knowin’ I was ‘bout to go through the same shit.
When we finally made it to Pressure’s truck, the passenger door opened, and Kay’Lo stepped out, tall as fuck.
He was standin’ by the door like he had been waitin’ on me to surface, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes locked on me like he was trackin’ prey.
“Fuck…” I whispered under my breath. “Here we go.”
Kay’Lo didn’t walk toward me fast or angry. He walked toward me like a man who had been pissed off for hours and finally saw what he came to collect.
“Toni,” he said, his voice deep and sharp.
“Kay’Lo,” I replied, already annoyed even though he ain’t say nothin’ yet.
He looked me up and down like he was countin’ the reasons to fuss at me. “Why you turn your location off?”
“Why you go through my location like you my probation officer?” I shot back.
“I asked you first,” he said, takin’ a step closer. “Why you turn it off?”
“Because I wanted peace, Kay’Lo. I wanted one night where you not blowin’ up my phone or breathin’ down my damn neck. I came out with Pluto to relax, not to report every move I make.”
He dragged his hand down his face and stared at me like I was speakin’ another language. “So, turnin’ your location off made sense in your mind?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “I’m allowed to go out and have fun. I’m allowed to breathe. You got your businesses. You come and go as you please. I been cooped up in that house feelin’ like a damn houseplant.”
Kay’Lo stepped closer, his chest hittin’ my shoulder. “So you think disappearing all day without answerin’ me is the way to handle it?”
“I didn’t disappear,” I said. “I went out. That’s it.”
“You ignored me.”
“You was arguin’ with me.”
“You turned your location off.”
“You stressed me out.”
He stared at me, breathin’ heavier, and for a moment we was too close, and too matched in stubbornness.
Then he held out his hand.
“Give me the keys,” he said, his voice low.
“Kay’Lo—”
“Toni. Give me the fuckin’ keys. I’m takin’ you home.”
Behind us, Pressure and Pluto was still goin’ back and forth by the truck, Pluto fussin’, Pressure fussin’ louder, and both babies screamin’ like they was tired of the bullshit too.
The whole scene was a mess.
A married-people meltdown in a parkin’ lot at one in the mornin’.
I sighed, pulled the keys out my purse, and slapped them into Kay’Lo’s palm.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered.
He smirked like he already knew he won. “Get in the car.”
I walked past him with my lil’ drunk attitude, cussin’ under my breath, but deep down I knew exactly what kind of night this was.
It was a chaotic ass Mensah night.
And what made it worse…
It wasn’t even over yet.
On the way home, I stayed quiet and to myself, starin’ out the window while the city lights blurred past us.
The car was too smooth for how loud my thoughts was, and the only sound between us was the sound of the engine and the low music playin’ from the speakers.
Kay’Lo ain’t say nothin’, didn’t sigh heavy, didn’t start in on no lecture, and that alone told me he was tired in a way I ain’t seen before.
His hand rested on my thigh after a minute, his thumb rubbin’ slow circles like muscle memory kicked in before he even realized it.
He kept his eyes on the road with his jaw tight but not angry, and for once it felt like he understood that tonight wasn’t about control or arguments or who was right.
I watched his side profile while he drove, the way the streetlights hit his face, and I felt that ache in my heart that always came when I realized how much I loved this man and how tired I was of fightin’ him at the same damn time.
He’d been takin’ his meds on and off, doin’ good for a while then slippin, and every slip felt like it cost me a piece of myself.
I wanted to scream sometimes. I wanted to shake him and make him understand how scared I was, but all I had left tonight was silence and the weight of everything we ain’t said.
When we pulled up to the gate, the iron slid open slow, lights sweepin’ over the driveway like nothin’ had ever gone wrong in this place.
He parked next to his cars, shut the engine off, and before I could even reach for the door handle, he was already around the car openin’ my door for me.
I stepped out and the cool air hit my skin, but before I could take another step, he pressed his chest to mine right there by the car.
His hands went to the door on either side of me, cagin’ me in, and I felt that familiar flutter in my stomach even though I was still irritated as hell.
He ain’t say nothin’ at first. He just looked at me, his eyes dark and full of disappointment and love tangled together in a way that made my throat tighten. I hated how that look still did things to me. I hated how much I still wanted him.
He leaned in and kissed the side of my neck, slow, then my jaw, and then my lips, not rushin’ it, not takin’ nothin’, but just remindin’ me we was still us.
When he pulled back, he slid my phone out my hand like it was nothin’.
I rolled my eyes, already knowin’ what he was about to do, and didn’t even bother sayin’ shit.
He unlocked it, turned my location back on, handed it back to me, then kissed my neck again like that settled it.
“I love you,” he said low, his voice rough but calm. “And I’m tired of fightin’.”
I looked at him, and for a second, I wanted to say everything that was sittin’ heavy in my mind, but the words wouldn’t come. I just nodded, and he seemed to take that as enough.
He grabbed my hand and led me inside, and the second we stepped through the door, he scooped me up like I weighed nothin’.
I let out a surprised laugh even though I tried not to, my arms automatically goin’ around his neck.
He carried me upstairs like this was just another night and not one of the hardest weeks of my life.
In the bathroom, he set me down gentle and turned the water on, checkin’ it with his hand like he always did. He reached up and started takin’ my wig off, careful but still himself, and I couldn’t help but smirk.
“You know you be yankin’ my shit sometimes,” I said.
He huffed a quiet laugh. “I know. That’s why I’m bein’ good tonight.”
That lil’ joke broke somethin’ open in me, and I felt my shoulders drop for the first time all day.
He helped me into the tub and washed me slow, his hands firm but tender, like he was tryna scrub the stress right off my skin.
Tears pricked my eyes, and I let them fall, mixin’ with the water, and he ain’t say nothin’ about it.
He just kept washin’, his thumb rubbin’ over my shoulders, my arms and my back, lettin’ me breathe.
When he helped me out, he wrapped me in a towel and dried me off, then carried me back to the bedroom like it was the most natural thing in the world. Candles was now lit, the room warm and quiet, and he stripped down to his briefs before sittin’ back against the headboard.
“Come here,” he said soft.
I crawled into bed and laid back between his legs, my back pressin’ into his chest, and the warmth of him wrapped around me in a way that made my heart ache.
He put some oil in his palms and rubbed my shoulders first, workin’ out knots I ain’t even realize was there, then his hands slid lower, cuppin’ my breasts, massagin’ slow and sure like he was puttin’ me back together piece by piece.
I let my head fall back against his shoulder and closed my eyes, every bit of tension meltin’ even though my heart was still bruised.
“I’m tired of beefin’ with you,” he murmured near my ear. “This shit gettin’ old, and I don’t even like beef like that.”
I smirked before I could stop myself. “You lyin’. You love beef.”
“Only when it ain’t with my wife,” he said, kissin’ my cheek. “You know I’m sick of my own shit, right?”
I stayed quiet, just breathin’ him in, lettin’ his hands do what his words couldn’t.
He kissed my temple, my cheek and my neck, whisperin’ that he was tired, that he missed me, that he hated the distance between us.
It wasn’t an apology, and it wasn’t a promise.
It was just him bein’ real in the only way he knew how.
For the rest of the night, he held me close, his arms wrapped around me like he was afraid I’d slip away if he let go.
The candles burned low, the room filled with warmth, and even though nothin’ was fixed and tomorrow was still gon’ be heavy, I let myself sink into the moment because right then, all I needed was to feel loved.
And Kay’Lo gave me that.