Chapter 43
forty-three
“Don’t come in here with that crying shit,” Rodrick started, upon hearing her heels come around the corner.
“I’d like you to know you look like hell and I am very upset with you, Unc. And I have the right mind to snatch that IV out your arm,” Kamilla grumbled, plopping down in a seat near the bed. “You see how cute I am and I have to sit here with you? I can’t believe it.”
Rodrick tiredly laughed at her sarcasm. “I’m sorry, Mila. Your pops would’ve killed me.”
“Unfortunately for you, he’s not here to cuss you out. And I don’t kick a man when he’s down. I love you and I’m not letting you self-destruct because you’re afraid,” Kamilla quipped.
“Oh, we talking about being afraid of shit, huh?” Rodrick asked, looking over at her. “I ever tell you how I ended up in red and your pops ended up in blue?”
Kamilla stole the extra blanket at his feet and wrapped herself in it. “That’s not one you’ve told me.”
“Too scared to be in that nigga’s shadow.
Best friends until I made that move out of fear.
Biggest regret of my life. He never stopped looking out for me.
Never let them niggas give me drugs. Every time I slipped, he was pulling up in that Cutlass.
Had that bitch on two wheels. He didn’t give a fuck what block I was on.
He was there, blue flag hanging, gun out, and daring a nigga to block him.
Pride is the devil. Pride, a fucked up head, and fear is the devil.
I don’t want you being fearful of anything.
Big or small. The truth, whatever. Whatever it is, you stand in it and you know you did the best you could,” Rodrick advised.
“Don’t be like me and your pops. Separated by bullshit. ”
“I can’t help but feel like you’re being shady,” Kamilla muttered, cutting her eyes at him. “Which is ironic being that you’re the one that was trying to take yourself up out of here.”
“You want me to say the shit plain, little barbie? Huh?”
She shook her head. “Nah, I’m tracking. I’ll handle it.”
“Better or I’m telling on your pretty ass. That nigga might be a little dormant right now. That’s what prison does to niggas like us. He still out his fuckin’ mind and he don’t scare me,” Rodrick grumbled. “I’ll tell and watch him crash out.”
“But I do?” Kamilla’s brows rose.
“Hell yeah, you your daddy’s daughter. He taught you everything and then told you to stay unassuming.
That’s how you stay muhfuckin’ dangerous, K.
That’s how you got that nigga out there panting to get back where y’all were.
And don’t tell me he ain’t out there guarding the door.
I know he is,” he sighed. “You told Lucci?”
“No, I haven’t told anyone yet. He’s in newborn bliss.
I’m not talking to him about this until later.
I’m just going to handle it. So when Tess gets here and you’re stable enough to move, you’re going back to rehab and we’re going to have to figure out something else to keep you busy, so you don’t feel like you’re losing anything.
All your sessions will be closed. No new niggas.
You will keep the management I find for you, if you fire them or get to set tripping, I’m going to get to tripping. Feel me?”
“Felt. Who you got doing my set?”
“Whoever Sincere pulled. I trust him enough to handle that. Don’t worry about that, though. I think you’ve figured out what message you’re leaving the game with before you retire. If all goes well, I might have something in mind to keep you close,” Kamilla buzzed tiredly.
“Oh, Fredo is going to love that shit,” he grumbled.
“He’ll be fine. It’s time to let bygones be bygones.”
“Tell yourself that,” he pointed.
“Aren’t you supposed to be doped up or something?” she huffed, jokingly. “In here trying to get me together is wild.”
“You must want a nigga to die,” he grumbled in laughter. “I won’t do this shit again. A nigga too old to be tripping.”
“Duhhh, dummy,” she quipped, flicking the back of his hand. “Damn near seventy in rhinestones like you young and what not. Like ya buddy from up north.”
“Aight now, K,” Rodrick spoke in laughter. Laughter he needed. Laughter they both needed. “Only difference is, I let my hair go. That nigga is still holding on to it. Braiding over bald spots is insanity and I know. I’m fuckin’ bipolar.”
“Could you please?” Kamilla asked, muffling her laughter in the blanket. “Go to sleep.”
By the time Tess showed up, Rodrick was finally sleep and Cairo wasn’t anywhere to be found. She accepted his absence. Her phone buzzed in her hand; Haddon was calling.
“It’s three a.m. in the hills, Don,” she quipped upon answering.
“You good?” he asked, concern in his voice. “Rowdy good?”
“I’m fine. Tess is here and he’s finally sleep. I’m still here,” she shared, leaning against the wall. “How’d you find out?”
“You know I keep my ears to the street and Kwan told me. He started tripping, thinking he lost you,” Haddon said with slight laughter. “Charlie said he was going to light his ass up for not keeping you in his sight.”
“He was handling something for me. It’s all fine. Sincere and a few of his artists handled the set. We need to send them a check. I’ll email accounting when I get back to the room.”
“Hell nah. You’re going to take your ass to sleep. Every time Rowdy has an episode, you’re up all night trying to fix it. I know why and I get it. But K, he’s fine. Tess is there, we’re sending him to rehab. You can’t hold guilt that’s not yours. Hear me?”
“Heard. So why are you even up?”
Haddon bitterly laughed. “Holding guilt that ain’t mine. One of these days I’ll take my own advice, until then, I can preach at you and watch you not listen.”
“I’m going to listen one of these days.”
“Listen tonight. Go back to your room, get some rest; you’ve done all you can do. And you’ve done it so well. You got what you needed, when contracts are signed, you’re officially A I’m going to send him an email. Is that okay?”
“Yeah,” Cairo grumbled with a smirk. “Tomorrow though. You’ll sleep tonight.”
The doors glided open and he led the charge off the elevator, opening the door for her. Kamilla walked in and kicked her heels off with a sigh of relief while pulling the sweatshirt off. “I’m not in the mood to be fondled, ogled, stared at or talked to. Take the guest room.”
She had to shut him out for tonight. At least that way, when she told on herself, it wouldn’t be after she was slow-stroked to sleep and sold on his dreams. Cairo’s dick seemed to serve as truth serum. Especially when he was peering into her eyes and hitting that spot.
Kamilla walked into the room they occupied the night before and shut the door.
The moment she was in the shower, she released tears just to shake off what the last set of hours held for her.
In a pair of soft pajamas and buried under fresh sheets, she wrapped her hands around herself until she passed out.
When she woke up hours later to her phone ringing and Cairo’s exhausted snores, she groaned. Her hands padded to the phone, tiredly answering Kairo calling from an iPad he shouldn’t have had at this time of night.
“Yes, my moon,” she tiredly groaned.
“I want you,” Kairo whimpered. “Come get me, please.”
She sat up, pushed the sleep from her eyes, and sighed. “I’m on my way. Take the iPad to Papa.”
She could hear and see him wiggle out his bed and patter his feet down the hall to the bedroom Fredo and Cherayne were sound asleep in. He climbed on top of his great-grandfather and shook him.
“Papa,” he whispered loudly. “Mommy is on the face.”
Fredo popped up. “Mila, you good?”
“I’m fine. I’m headed back. My baby is homesick,” she spoke quietly, making him groan.
“The boy is fine. You can’t just run back every time he wants you,” he quietly fussed.
Truth was, she needed him too before the truth of his existence made everything complicated. “I can and I will. I’m headed to the airport.”
“Aight, fine,” Fredo groaned before hanging up.
Kamilla slipped out of the bed, got dressed, collected her things and quietly left the hotel suite.
She sent Kwan and CiCi separate texts giving them instructions to provide East with security and assistance to Cairo.
While she sat in the airport waiting for the next flight back home, she scheduled her emails to legal and Fahaad.
Without question, she’d only have a few days to prep herself for storm Cairo.