Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Xain Smith
If I’m being honest, my current job was light work compared to working security for Vincent before he stepped into retirement.
Besides choke-slamming a fan or two for getting into a secured area, or during the first leg of the last tour, Duke tackled this man who somehow made it onto the stage while Q was closing out his Houston show; there wasn’t much static.
However, it was better than sitting at home during retirement like I did the first two years.
A thirty-six-year-old single man had no business retiring.
Vincent had a wife, a kid, another one on the way, three horses, a partridge, and a pear tree.
Shit, he always had something to do, so retirement was perfect for him.
I, on the other hand, could only sit home and twiddle my thumbs for so long.
After the hotel incident with Khaleesi, my marriage couldn’t seem to get back on track.
Even when I said I was ready to have kids, Salena wasn’t hearing that shit.
Salena told me it was too late; she had begged me long enough and believed I was being disingenuous in order to keep her.
Her assumptions were right. I was going to give her a baby, but I didn’t truly want children.
I’d always been upfront about not wanting to have children.
We both grew up without our parents, and had been on the same page up until Marissa got pregnant with Yarissa.
Then all of a sudden things changed for Salena, and she was set on having a baby.
On top of us being in two separate places about kids, Salena consistently brought up the hotel incident.
She didn’t believe I didn’t fuck Khaleesi in that hotel room, and that’s why I couldn’t help myself when I left her outside in the rain.
If she would’ve cleared my name, maybe the divorce wouldn’t have happened.
At least that’s the lie I told myself when I decided to leave her in the rain.
The reality is, divorce was likely going to happen regardless.
Salena felt like even if I didn’t fuck Khaleesi in that hotel room, I was still putting my loyalty to Vincent over her and our marriage.
Salena had valid points, but that didn’t make the divorce hurt any less.
Especially when I still had to see her from time to time.
Like earlier that day, she was at the party, and it still stung to see Salena.
Especially when she looked good as fuck, had a glow on her that I knew was coming from a nigga because Vincent told me so.
We had been doing good, crossing paths without arguing and ruining the vibes for everybody for the past year. I wanted to keep it that way.
Finishing off the Red Bull, I tossed the can in the trash.
“Xain,” Jameera huffed, stomping over in my direction. “They have a recycling bin right next to the trash can, and you still can’t be bothered to do the right thing?”
“Oh shit, my bad.”
Jameera rolled her eyes, waving her hand over the automatic trash can. The lid popped open, and she carefully grabbed the can and dropped it into the recycling bin.
“Nobody’s asking you to chain yourself to a tree, but recycling is one of the easiest ways to make a difference. You might not want to have kids, but some of us do. They need a planet to live on.”
“My bad, Jameera. I really ain’t notice the recycling bin. I got you next time though.”
“Mmmm Hmmm.” She wandered over to the sink to wash her hands, that big curly fro bouncing on her head. I’d heard that lecture a million times; Jameera never missed an opportunity to get on her tree hugger shit.
“Khaleesi,” Anila’s voice caught my attention behind me. “What happened to your clothes and hair?”
I spun around, leaning up against the kitchen island.
The involuntary smirk that spread across my face was a reflex that I quickly pushed down.
On the average day, I hated looking at Khaleesi.
However, the sight in front of me was glorious.
Khaleesi was wigless, her jailhouse braids on display, while she was dressed in an oversized server’s uniform.
Even in her disheveled state, Khaleesi still looked good as fuck.
I couldn’t deny that. She was naturally beautiful, and didn’t have to do too much.
Her high cheekbones, plump, pillowy lips, and smooth caramel skin even made the jailhouse braids look good.
If Khaleesi wasn’t in clothes that were two sizes too big, her body would be just as distracting as her face.
She had that perfect hourglass shape, slim in the waist with soft curves that filled out every outfit I’d seen her in over the years.
Khaleesi was great to look at. Unfortunately, every time she opened that fat ass mouth, my blood boiled. I wasn’t sure what happened after we drove off, but things went even better than I could’ve imagined by the look of defeat on her face.
All eyes were on Khaleesi, including mine.
We were surrounded by the women in Q’s family, plus a few of Q’s close friends’ wives or girlfriends.
The men went outside to smoke. Marissa didn’t allow that inside of her house anymore because their daughter, Yarissa, and Vincent’s son, Vaughn, both had asthma.
“AGHHHHHHHHH!” Khaleesi screamed, bolting in my direction.
We were maybe ten steps apart, and she ate that distance up before I could react.
Khaleesi’s lil fists swung, landing anywhere she could reach.
Her eyes told me she lost her damn mind.
I fumbled for her wrists, but she was throwing those lil fists, catching me on the side of the head, the forehead, then a clean hit on my lip split my shit.
The warm, metallic taste of blood quickly filled my mouth.
Handling Khaleesi without getting physical wasn’t going to happen.
Jameera and Amill were the only two trying to get a hold of her, and they were both soft as cotton, probably never having had to step in the paint in their lives.
On the other hand, Khaleesi was showing that she had been in more than a few squabbles.
The mini maniac would black my shit before the family sweethearts got a hold of her devilish ass.
She landed a good hit on my left eye, and I was over the bullshit.
I picked Khaleesi’s little ass up by the collar of her button-up shirt and slammed her on the kitchen island.
Khaleesi landed harder than I anticipated; the hard thud from her back colliding with the quartzite countertop echoed throughout the dining area.
The anger in my eyes instantly morphed into contrition when I noticed Khaleesi take a few short, quick breaths.
“Shit, my bad. I–”
WAP!
Fury flashed in Khaleesi’s eyes, and she popped up like the Bride of Chucky and punched me clean across the jaw with enough force to snap my head to the right.
“Vincentttttt!” Anila squealed. I heard shuffling behind us as I slowly careened my neck back to face Khaleesi. “Get him!”
I felt my body jerk backward before Khaleesi could power back up. My eyes bore into hers when I saw the crazy dancing in them. We were about to go for round two if somebody didn’t pull us apart.
“What the fuck are you in here doing? Why the fuck would you do that?” Vincent interrogated.
“That crazy bitch attacked me!” I roared.
“Fuck nigga, I hate you! I’m fucking you up every time I see you! I put that on the titty on the side of your head!”
Vincent shoved me away from the commotion and out of the front door.
“What the fuck, Xain? You not beefing with Salena no more, so you found a new target?”
“I told you that crazy bitch attacked me. She didn’t say shit, just came in the house and took off on me, and I let her get her shit off, thinking Anila would eventually grab her, but she didn’t. What was I supposed to do? Let her beat my ass?”
“Anila is pregnant! She can’t be playing referee nigga.”
My chest heaved in the silent night. “Duke is going to handle shit tonight. I’m driving back up to Tampa in the rental. Ion even feel like being around this shit right now,” I informed him.
“Xain!” Vincent called behind me as I hopped in the rental and peeled out of the circular driveway.
Easing down the street, I shot Q and Duke texts to let them know I was headed home.
Once that was handled, I put my old-school playlist on shuffle and turned the heat on for the ride.
Hopping on 75, the road was clear, and I set cruise control on 85.
There was nothing like a late-night interstate drive to clear the mind with old school music playing.
Once the car warmed up, I put one hand on the steering wheel and used the other hand to pull my hoody off to get comfortable.
A soft ruffling sound cut into Bootsy Collins’s crooning as I shed the hoody.
My neck snapped around to check the backseat, praying a nigga didn’t catch me slipping while I was too focused on beefing with Khaleesi’s crazy ass.
Confirming that the back seat was empty, I released the grip I had on my gun. When I turned back around to focus on the road, a green blob flew towards me. Sharp claws tore at my arm and chest before I could react.
“Aaarrrggggghhhhh!” I screamed, smacking the iguana away from me. It slapped up against the passenger door with a loud thud before falling back into the seat. “What the fuck?!” I exhaled as my heart pounded in my chest.
A second green blob flew in my direction as I gathered myself.
The second iguana landed on my head, clawing at my face while its black and green tail whipped at me, breaking the skin on my neck.
I released the steering wheel, losing control of the truck while prying the second iguana from my face.
The first iguana came back with a vengeance, clawing at my chest a second time.
I slammed on the brakes to regain control of the truck, but the wet roads were not in my favor.
SKKKKKKKKRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTT!