Chapter 10
ten
The heaviness of the nine pounds on his shoulder was a weight he welcomed.
Somewhere between his much needed smoke break and watching her cycle out her laundry, Kamilla plopped down in the chair to his right.
Before he knew it, the wired headphones were stuffed in her ears, and she’d subsequently drifted off to sleep.
For as long he could sit there without waking her, he did.
Every inhale welcomed the same scent that lingered on his sheets and served as the antidote for sweet dreams.
The persistent beeping of the last dryer was the signal that remaining comfortable here was short-lived. Gently, he snaked his arm from around her, turning the screen of her phone upward. Two things he caught: the text from the cellphone company wanting payment and her iTunes.
AyeZee KP’s “Up in Smoke”, a favorited song on whatever playlist she’d been listening to.
He knew that song like that back of his hand.
He’d never forget the day he accidently walked in on the session.
A young boy in a gang full of grown men.
Cairo’s backpack was full of work, and he was on a time crunch.
It was a test. At the time, AyeZee KP, affectionately known as Azul KP, was at the height of his career.
Every club from Los Oceania to Emerald City was packed out to see the rising rapper.
From the clubs to the arenas was projected for his future.
The first time Cairo saw him, he was mesmerized; he couldn’t even speak until that weed-tinted baritone hit his ears.
“Ay, little nigga, you gon’ stare at me all fuckin’ night or give me my bud?” The question was asked in a lighthearted coolness that settled Cairo’s shyness. Shyness that had to be masked now because he was a killer. A shark amongst piranhas and he couldn’t let them smell his blood in the water.
After the transaction was made and Azul KP had kicked him out the studio, he stopped him, gave him an assuring nod before saying, “Keep your head, young nigga.”
That piece of advice was the only worthy advice he’d ever gotten, outside of his grandmother telling him he needed to come home the same way she let him leave. KP’s words stuck with him so much they were tattooed on his forearm.
Without waking her, he moved away from Kamilla to the beeping dryer and took her clothes from them. His attention balanced from folding her things, to watching her sleep, to the few Azuls gathered on the corner. When everything was folded, packed up, and placed in his trunk, he returned to Kamilla.
“You snoring, Kamilla,” he softly joked, barely touching the back of her hand and taking her headphones out of her left ear.
She groaned softly and shifted her weight in the hard plastic chair. “I do not snore.”
“You do and you drool.”
Kamilla quickly went to wipe her mouth.
“It’s all on my shirt,” he informed in a joking tone. “When is the last time you slept for real?”
He watched as she stretched, scratched her head through her coils, and sighed. “The truth?”
“Nothing but it.”
“Maybe two and a half months ago, before…” she allowed her words to falter while her feet wanted to flee from the truth she wasn’t ready to speak. “Where are my clothes?”
“Folded and in the trunk.”
Kamilla, frozen, squinted her full eyes and tooted her lips up. “You folded my…”
Cairo shrugged like it was nothing. “My grandmother raised me. Well, she tried her damnedest. Either way, it’s not that big of a deal.”
She shook her head and blew out a breath.
“It’s just underwear. You want to fold my drawls so we can be even?” he toyed.
Kamilla rolled her eyes and scoffed as she started out of the building. “Now why would I do that and have your little girlfriend ready to fire me?”
Quickly, Cairo pulled her back by her t-shirt. “You walk out behind me. Always. The block is filling up. Aight?”
Kamilla nodded and stepped back. Cairo scanned the area, threw his head to a few Azuls then ushered Kamilla to the passenger side.
“You always like this?” she quizzed. “Or is this some trust before the fall type of thing?”
“What do you mean before the fall?”
She bounced her shoulders. “I don’t know. Make me trust you and then ask me to hold a pack. Like they do in all the hood movies and books.”
Cairo let out a soft chuckle and stroked the hairs of his overgrown facial hair. “I look like that type of nigga? Be real. That’s what I look like?”
Kamilla yawned and leaned her body toward the window. “No. But what it looks like isn’t always what it is.”
“Elaborate, K,” Cairo urged, wanting nothing more than to know the things happening inside of her mind.
“I’ve learned that people show what they want you to see. Like a mask to cover up the ugliness underneath. I’ve had enough of the ugliness,” she muttered.
He digested her statement maybe longer than he thought because by the time he started to reply, she was sleeping again.
The quiet ride was full of the streetlights luminating the limited peacefulness over her tired face.
The coils of her hair falling over her face and the slight snore returning.
It was evident that she was past exhausted.
Whatever bought her here was the same thing, along with Martez’s bullshit, that was robbing her of rest.
Almost ten minutes of riding in silence, Cairo pulled up in front of his house and parked his car.
The decision was made hours ago. As long as Martez was around and her aunt was out of town, she wouldn’t be anywhere near 35th and Mecca.
The decision made in the spirit of protecting her went against the vow he’d made.
Nana’s house was about to have a guest, and his space wouldn’t be his for the foreseeable future. Thankful for his corner of Husten being quiet, he killed the engine and reached over to gently wake her.
Kamilla slowly pulled her eyes back open and squinted at her surroundings. The realization of where she was, caused her to look at him. Cairo kept a cool expression awaiting her banter.
“I knew it,” she huffed. “You couldn’t even wait a week to kidnap me again?”
“Apparently I like sharing my space with you, and I hate sharing my space,” he commented. “But on Azul, you’re not going back to Mecca until your aunt gets back and there’s some sort of buffer between you and that bitch ass nigga.”
He caught her tired eye roll.
“There’s no buffer,” she muttered, before speaking up. “I don’t want to impede on what you got going on. As long as the door is locked and I have my headphones, I’m cool.”
“No, you’re not. And I’m sure he’s part of the reason you don’t have any fuckin’ peace and I’m not with that. So you got the bed, I’ll take the couch. It’s nothing.”
Kamilla looked over him. “You’re kinda big for that couch.”
He shrugged. “That or the floor; I’m not above any of it, for real. Come on.”
She didn’t move, only cut her eyes at him. “I told you I can’t fight right? I don’t want any issues with nobody.”
“I think I’ve told you already I’m not on that bullshit. But I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it. I’m not putting you in a position to come out of character. Come on before you fall asleep again,” he urged, stepping out of the car.
Kamilla pushed the door open and stepped out. Her strides short in comparison to his.
“I could’ve carried that,” she commented.
Cairo unlocked the door and motioned her inside. “If I’m around, you’re not carrying nothing.”
“Can’t pay for nothing, can’t carry nothing. What can I do?”
“Get comfortable and go to sleep,” he shared, watching her pass him before following her into the house.
“All these rules,” she muttered, taking off her shoes. Once in the small blue bedroom she woke up in days ago, she watched him remove the things he needed. “Thank you.”
“What you thankin’ me for?” he quizzed in slight confusion. Because taking care of her, even in this small window of time, seemed like second nature.
Kamilla shrugged and nervously clasped her hands in front of her.
“Ay, K,” he rumbled.
“Hm?”
He stepped to her, his change of clothes in his hands. “Don’t do that.”
Her brows fused. “Do what?”
He fought the impulse to kiss the top of her head and stepped back. “Don’t shrug. Say what you want. Outside ain’t safe, but right here,” he motioned his finger between them. “You safe. I mean that. On Azul.”
She tucked her lips and nodded.
“Say it,” he urged.
“Thanks for looking out for me. Since I got here…no one else really has.”
He nodded. “One day you’re going to tell me about that.”
“Maybe.”
Cairo offered that signature smirk. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”
Kamilla offered him a soft laugh.
He’d already lingered in her space longer than he intended. “Goodnight, K.”
“Goodnight, Cairo.”