Chapter 49
forty-nine
The vibration of her phone on her nightstand woke her up. She was sure she passed out after taking his dick to the back of her throat and riding him again. It was well past Kairo’s nap time. Patting the bed for her son while reaching for her phone, she answered one and couldn’t find the other.
“Hello,” she tiredly answered, pushing herself out of the bed.
“I’ve been calling you for days and now you answer?” Aunt J’s voice came through like a wrecking ball.
“How’d you get this number?” she questioned. For the last five years, Aunt J would call and Kamilla would ignore it and change the number. She’d been caught slipping because she was half-awakened in a post-dick haze. One she was hoping to stay in for the rest of the night.
“You’re my niece, what do you mean how did I get this number? I have my ways. I can’t call you and check on you?” she questioned with an attitude of entitlement.
“No, actually. Because the only talking I should be doing with you is with my fists.”
It was one thing for Aunt J to support Martez, mourn his death harder than she mourned her sister and take her college money and stuff it into her ass.
It was another to set up Cairo. The set up that Dania called from the get-go was verified a month and half after Kamilla gave birth to Kairo.
She popped up at the house with her opportunist spirit in full view.
In a heated exchange, Aunt J let it slip that she didn’t regret calling the cops and telling them that Cairo was the shooter.
It only added another layer of scar tissue to Kamilla’s mounting guilt.
The fight was so loud and so bad that Fredo had to separate the two and dare Aunt J to come back.
Every year since she’d call to aggravate her because she was miserable and then demand money. Kamilla had never given her a dime, but it never stopped this type of behavior. All Aunt J was proving was that she was as weird and demented as Martez.
“You know how to stop these calls, right? Give me that money. I heard he’s home now.
I’ll tell them who the real shooter is. You got the whole hood against me.
I can’t even find a decent job. My house is fuckin’ gone.
You owe me. Crazy how’d you rather fuck the nigga responsible for KP’s death than take care of your family,” she hissed just like a snake.
“Crazy how you would rather Martez rape me and me keep quiet than fighting for myself. And I can’t help but to assume the same thing happened to you.
I know that your brother was killed because he couldn’t keep his hands to himself.
You might be okay with living in that misery, but I am not.
And I’m not holding on to the trauma to keep it going for generations.
You enjoy it. If you call me again, I will lose this little bit of cool I’m holding on to and come whoop your ass.
It’s a promise. Now go tell the police that, you badly built extortionist,” Kamilla shot back before hanging up, blocking the number and huffing. “Can’t even enjoy bliss for a second.”
She walked down the stairs, finding her two favorite people sitting on the couch watching TV. The intensity in Cairo’s gaze let her know that he’d gone, handled the issue, and came back. Take-out was on the kitchen counter and the mess they made was cleaned up.
Sitting next to them, she kissed each and sighed. “You good?”
“Yeah,” he sharply spoke. “You?”
She shook her head. “Aunt J called.”
Cairo looked down at his son who was super focused on the animation about emotions. Easing from under him, Cairo stood, held his hand out for her and led her into the kitchen. “Talk to me.”
“Outside of her doing this shit every year…there’s one thing we haven’t talked about. Everyone else has told me their accounts but I haven’t gotten it from you,” Kamilla muttered hopping up on the counter and looking at him.
Cairo palmed his face. “Your uncle had a hand, foot, and dick problem. Couldn’t keep any to himself.
Touchin’ on his sisters, poking at your pops, and terrorizing the block.
Just like that nigga did. Your dad handled it.
It was one of those unspoken things. No one from either side had anything to say because niggas didn’t play about that shit.
We were in the spot one night. Kicking it on some Azul shit.
I never liked that nigga and couldn’t get behind how he moved.
Every time I saw him, I beat his ass. I guess he was tired of being punked out.
Tired of no one touching any of us because his fake daddy was a creep.
Everything happened so fuckin’ fast. I saw the gun, I went to draw mine and before I could, KP jumped in front of me.
He took the shot. He threw himself on a sword for me.
I lived with the shame of that for years and then you came.
And whether or not we ended up together, I knew I had to take care of you because inadvertently, I was the reason he was taken from you.
So when it came down to it – to protecting you – I was throwing myself on the sword for you.
And I’d do it forevermore not just because of what he did for me, but what he told me. ”
“What’d he tell you?” Kamilla asked.
“To carry this shit. I thought he meant the music but when I met you, it was very clear what he meant. Carry his legacy. I wanted to tell you that shit so bad but nothing scared me more than having you and then losing you. And in the end of that era, I lost you anyway. I hurt you before you even saw it coming.”
“I want you to know, I forgave you for that. For not telling me then. I’ve learned that life is short and you can’t hold on to shit. I also learned that you can’t love someone and not forgive them.”
“Who you learn that from?” he mused.
“Dania. She told me about her and Nate how they started. Things happen, people make mistakes, and you can’t live on the ugly side of it. Not if you really want to live. I choose to stand in the light with you. We’ve had enough darkness.”
He closed the space between them. “It’s us forever.”
“It is. But no more withholding. From either of us.”
“On Azul.”
She laughed softly, letting her forehead rest against his. “On Azul.”
“You hungry?”
“That’s my favorite Chinese spot?”
“You know it. Something about turning a nigga into ashes gives me some nostalgia,” he said jokingly.
She swayed her head. “Anyway, Pepe has an actual restaurant now. So tomorrow when you have your meeting with East and Fahaad take him around.”
“You know something I don’t?”
“Oh always, baby daddy. Just one thing though. At work, I’m the boss. In here, you can have your way.”
“I hear you. Call those movers tomorrow,” he directed, moving away from her to fix her food.
“Where we going?”
“To that house you bought in Ocean View.”
“Ohhh,” Kamilla crooned. “Someone looked at their portfolio.”
“Sure did. I swear if you didn’t like working as much as you do, you’d be sat down the rest of your days. In the house being soft and shit,” he commented. “I’m never coming off you.”
“Don’t. I like you in me, on me, by me. All of that.”