Chapter 17 Orion
Orion
Something wasn’t sitting right with me. Cayla had been moving differently all week.
She was quieter, always on her phone, and pulling away when I reached for her.
I told myself I was tripping, but tonight?
Tonight sealed it. She came out of the bedroom in a fitted dress.
I ain’t seen her wear one of those since before the baby.
Her nails were freshly done, her hair was laid, and her toes were white-tipped like she was going on a damn date.
“You look nice,” I said, leaning back on the couch.
Oriana was asleep in the bassinet beside me.
“Thanks,” she said quickly while grabbing her car keys from her purse. “I’m meeting up with Zynea, so I need you to watch the baby tonight.”
That’s when the alarm bells went off. Because just an hour ago, while scrolling on Instagram, I saw that Zynea had posted a boomerang of a basketball court… in Phoenix. Thousands of miles away. I kept my face neutral as I began to nod like I believed her.
“Yeah, I got Oriana. Have fun.”
She smiled a little too tightly and kissed the baby before heading out the door. Her ass didn’t even give me a fucking kiss. The second it closed, I stood up, heat boiling in my chest.
“So, you're lying to me now, Cayla?” I said out loud, but more to myself.
Quickly, I ran to the kitchen and dug through the junk drawer until I found the Air Tag I’d bought months back and never used. My hands shook as I slipped outside. I went to the driver's side of her car and knocked for her to roll the window down.
Slowly, she let the window come down.
“No kiss for me?”
The corners of her mouth turned upward before she leaned out of the window and kissed me on the lips.
She had her eyes closed when our lips latched together, so I reached my arm into the car and pulled her closer to me.
She was into the kiss so much that she didn’t even see when I tossed the AirTag on the floor of the passenger side.
“Be safe,” I said once we finished kissing.
I stood on the steps and waited for her to pull off. By the time I got back inside, I had the app open on my phone, watching the little dot that was Cayla’s Jeep pull down the street. I stared at it with my jaw clenched and my heart pounding. Wherever she was going tonight, I would know.
Thirty minutes later, the little dot on my screen stopped moving and settled right on Christos Steak House.
My chest tightened because I knew exactly what kind of spot that was.
It was expensive, romantic, and the type of place you dressed up for.
I didn’t even think twice. I packed Oriana’s bag with one hand.
I was stuffing bottles and wipes in like I might be gone a while.
My baby girl stirred when I lifted her from the bassinet; her soft breath was warm against my neck.
I ran upstairs to dress her for outside before coming back downstairs.
I made sure not to forget her diaper bag.
“Sorry, baby girl,” I whispered while strapping her into the car seat, “but your momma got me fucked up tonight.”
The whole drive, I gripped the wheel, watching that Air Tag dot sit steady at Christos.
My mind spun. Cayla was looking too good for just a girls’ night.
Plus, she lied about who she was going to be with.
Whoever the hell was sitting across the table from Cayla was about to see a fucking scene right before their eyes.
When I pulled up, I spotted her Jeep in the lot.
It was tucked neatly between a Benz and a Lexus.
I killed the engine, hopped out of the car, grabbed Oriana’s car seat with her still sleeping inside, and headed for the door.
My blood was boiling, but there was a coldness underneath it, too.
A clarity I hadn’t noticed before. She had checked out on a nigga.
The hostess smiled when I walked in, asking if I had a reservation.
I scanned the tables instead, and there she was.
Cayla. My Cayla. Sitting across from some broad-shouldered dude with a fade.
She was laughing softly, and her eyes shone in a way I hadn’t seen in forever.
My stomach dropped, then hardened into stone.
I shifted Oriana’s seat in my grip, tightening my hand around the handle.
I had let Cayla domesticate my ass, and it was time to remind her exactly who the fuck I was.
I walked straight past the hostess like I owned the place.
Oriana’s car seat was swinging at my side.
Heads turned as I cut through the dining room, but I only saw one table.
She looked damn near radiant. I was able to see her upon her leaving the house, but under the restaurant’s lights, she had this glow to her.
Her hair was flowing, her nails were glistening, and that dress was hugging her body.
Even the extra body she had gotten from our baby girl looked good in that dress.
She was leaning in, laughing softly like she ain’t have a care in the world. The sight lit a fire in my chest. I dropped the car seat right next to their table; the clink was loud enough to make Cayla’s smile vanish. Her eyes went wide when we made eye contact.
“Orion—”
“Yeah,” I cut her ass off, “Orion. The father of your child. The man you lied to about being with Zynea, when she’s out in Phoenix, shaking her ass right now. You thought I wasn’t gonna find out?”
The man seated across from her leaned back in his chair and put his hands up like he was innocent.
“Yo, man, it ain’t even like that—” he began to jump to her defense.
“Shut the fuck up.” I snapped as my eyes locked on him. “I should beat your ass right here for thinking you could sit across from my woman like she belongs to you.
Cayla just looked up at me, her voice shaking. “Orion, please, not here. People are staring.”
“I don’t give a fuck who’s staring!” I slammed my palm on the table, which caused the silverware to rattle. “You out here playing house with this clown while your baby’s at home? Nah, fuck that. She's right here, Cayla. You left your daughter so you could come play dress up for this nigga?”
Cayla’s eyes filled with tears. “You don’t understand—”
“I understand everything,” I growled, leaning close enough that the nigga sitting at the table had shifted in his seat.
The restaurant had gone dead quiet, the sounds of chewing had ceased to exist, and whispers rolled through the air.
Oriana stirred in her car seat, letting out a soft cry.
For a second, Cayla’s eyes flicked to her.
She had guilt painted all over her face.
I stood tall and firm with my jaw locked.
When I looked down at the table, I grew angrier.
“Bitch, you don’t even like steak!”
I grabbed her wrist before she could say a word. Her eyes went wide as gasps rippled through the restaurant.
“Orion, let me go!” she hissed as she tried to pull away from me.
“Get your ass up,” I growled, yanking her out of the chair. “You wanna play me in public? Then you gon’ get dealt with in public.”
“Yo, chill!” the dude across from her said, standing halfway like he was about to intervene.
I turned on him so fast he froze.
“Sit your ass down before you make this worse. She ain’t yours.”
He looked down at my waist and saw my gun poking through my shirt.
I had no fucking problem with airing this bitch out over that pussy.
He was lucky I didn’t deal with his ass for the disrespect alone.
What did that drunk nigga playing on the piano from The Temptations say?
This is mine, you can’t take it. That’s exactly how I felt as I dragged Cayla’s ass out of that bitch.
The room was dead silent. Every plate of food and glass was forgotten as all eyes landed on us.
Cayla stumbled as I pulled her toward the door.
Her heels were scraping the floor, and her free hand was pressed against her chest like she was trying to keep her heart from falling out.
She knew better than to fuck with me. My backup plan is always to crash out.
Correction, that was the first muthafucking thing I did when I felt betrayed.
She had a front row seat to how I acted when I felt disrespected.
I didn’t even know how she thought this shit was gonna ride.
“Orion, please,” she whispered as tears spilled down her face, “you’re making a scene.”
I stopped just long enough to look her dead in the eyes.
“No, you made a scene the second you lied to me. I’m just showing everybody who the fuck you belong to.”
And with that, I dragged her out of Christos.
I was sure neither of us would be allowed there anymore, and I didn’t give a fuck.
Oriana was wailing in the car seat at my side as the whispers of judgment trailed us all the way to the door.
The night air hit hard and cool against my burning skin.
The second we hit the parking lot, Cayla yanked her wrist free, her face streaked with tears and rage.
“You got Oriana out here in the middle of this mess!” she shouted. “She didn’t ask for any of this, Orion!”
I looked at her quickly and yelled so loud that people outside were starting to look our way.
“I bet she didn’t ask for a hoe ass mama either. Don’t even bring her up right now. You weren’t thinking about our daughter when you dressed up and snuck out to sit across from that bucket head ass clown like you’re single!”
Her mouth trembled before the words shot out. “You got the nerve to judge me? You were fucking around on me when I was pregnant with her! Don’t act like you're some saint now!”
That hit deep because, in my eyes, I was a saint now.
I was trying my fucking best to show her that I had changed.
I now knew that the shit wasn’t enough. Oriana’s cries pierced through the night, louder now, echoing in the concrete lot.
Cayla bent down toward the car seat, brushing her hand over her, but I set the whole seat down hard on the asphalt.