Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Khaleesi
The blackout curtains left my room pitch dark, and I couldn’t even see my hands in front of my face.
That was how I liked to sleep. Plus, I loved opening my curtains each morning, welcoming the bright sunlight as it spilled across the room and lifted my spirits.
However, my love for a dark room wasn’t beneficial to me now that I heard movement in my living room.
Maintenance wasn’t scheduled to fix anything, and the only other person with a passcode for my door was my mother.
A pop-up trip from her wasn’t fathomable without notice because she lived in Atlanta.
Slowly pulling the top drawer of my nightstand open, I felt around until my fingertips brushed across the cold piece of steel.
The door swung open, allowing golden sunrays to spill into my bedroom.
I lifted the gun, my finger resting on the trigger, as I spun toward the bedroom door.
My eyes involuntarily squinted as they adjusted to the light, and I held my breath, prepared to let off a shot to protect myself.
Then Xain, his face that looked like it’d been scraped across a cheese grater, and his eye patch stepped into view.
It felt like my heart was about to gallop out of my chest. My eyes blinked twice to make sure my mind wasn’t playing tricks on me.
As I blinked, Xain silently closed the distance between us. Was this about to be a wet dream or a nightmare?
“This has to be a nightmare,” I mumbled to myself.
“Naw, I’m live in the flesh, baby,” Xain’s gruff voice taunted me. It was the shit that nightmares were made of on the average day, but the added rasp made it ten times worse. I loathed that man!
Xain’s begrudgingly familiar citrus-woodsy scent wafting through my bedroom, combined with my sudden urge to pee, told me that this wasn’t a dream at all.
“Get the fuck out of my house! Or I swear to God I’ll shoot you!” I demanded, gun still raised to shoot him right between the eyes.
“You ain’t that fuckin’ crazy,” Xain retorted, stopping at the edge of the bed to kick his slides off.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m about to lay down. Don’t worry, I took a shower before I drove over here. Ion do outside clothes in the bed. My granny ain’t never played that shit,” he explained, slipping into my bed, his solid frame making my pillow-top mattress dip beneath his weight.
He leaned over to me, pressing his forehead into the barrel of my gun.
“Do it,” Xain commanded.
I tried to pull away, but he gripped the barrel of the gun, holding it in place.
“Xain, stop,” I shrieked, taking my finger off the trigger.
“Exactly, you too pussy to use it, so just relax and make this easy for the both of us. My HVAC system went out, and they won’t be able to fix it until the part comes in tomorrow.
I can’t go to nobody else’s house because you gave me the flu.
Although Vincent told me I couldn’t come by his spot, he had a great suggestion: it’s yo fault I’m sick, so you should be the one taking care of me.
I got one fuckin’ eye, I been sick as a dog, and you’re going to help nurse me back to health. ”
By the time Xain was done talking shit, he was already under my covers, his head sinking into my pillows like he paid the mortgage.
Xain lifted his head, gaze settling on my Tempur-Pedic cooling pillows. “This shit feels heavenly. What type of pillows are these? I gotta grab a few for the crib.”
My eyes blinked rapidly as I lowered the gun. To my dismay, Xain was right. I wasn’t crazy enough to shoot him. I wished I was. He broke into my house, so I had every right to empty the clip if I felt like it.
“Take the fucking pillows and go home! I’m not taking care of you! You need to get the fuck out of my bed, and out of my house!” I screeched.
Placing the gun on the nightstand, I snatched up my phone to call Q.
“You might as well put the phone down. None of ya devices are going to work, and ya door is rigged so it won’t open unless I make a call.
I bought all of the ingredients for you to cook homemade chicken noodle soup.
I’ve overheard Amill and Jameera boast about how good you cook on a few occasions.
Now it’s my turn to be the judge of that.
You ruined my marriage when I had a wife that used to take care of a nigga when I was down. Now you gon’ fill in those shoes.”
“Get outta my face with that bullshit, Xain! I didn’t ruin your marriage, so please stop with that narrative.
Your marriage was already crumbling before I ever met you.
Salena wanted a baby, but you didn’t want to give her one.
Plus, you were putting work before her. You’re divorced because you were a shit husband.
I wish my husband would fix his mouth to tell me he canceled the birthday trip I planned for him to do another man’s bidding,” I ranted, folding my arms across my chest.
“You got some big nerves blaming me for the demise of your marriage! My Auntie tells me everything. You know that, right? I might have added fuel to the fire. But y’all had plenty of issues.
I was still in a relationship too when you decided to kidnap me.
Montell also accused me of cheating with you.
He saw security footage of me getting into your truck, and then you took my phone and ignored all of his calls.
So, Montell put two and two together and concluded that we were fucking!
Do you see me blaming you? No! Montell was an insecure ass nigga, and you weren’t shit as a husband. Now y’all are both sad and single.
“You and Salena were never going to make it. You would’ve given that lady a baby you knew you didn’t want, then resented her and probably been a half-assed father.
In my opinion, I did you a favor. You should be thanking me, nigga!
Take responsibility for your actions and stop blaming me.
I could run around holding a grudge because my relationship never recovered after that weekend, but I don’t.
Me and Montell were never going to make it. Just like you and Salena never were.”
“You right,” he monotoned, shocking the fuck out of me.
I expected Xain to toss out a rebuttal, and I was prepared to go round for round in here. Instead, he lay silently, staring up at the ceiling like he was processing everything I’d said. Xain turned on his side, his one eye roaming my face.
Did I get through to him?
“You know, you kind of cute when you aren’t saying or doing something to make a nigga wanna go in yo shit,” Xain complimented. He turned back over and closed his one visible eye. “Do you have an Alexa speaker or something to play soothing sleep music?”
“Ughhhhh! NO! GET OUT!” I screeched, completely thrown off. I thought my little speech brought Xain to his senses, but he was lying here complimenting me.
“I’m here to stay, Khaleesi. Even if you aren’t the reason I don’t have a wife at home, I’m still sick, and I got one fucking eye because of you. Now go make the soup, or I’ll cough on you and get you sick again!”
“Oh hell no! Are you still contagious? Get out! Get out!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.
My body became hot with anxiety. Deep down, I knew Xain wasn’t joking about my phone. His words were confirmed when I looked at the screen and saw that there was no internet or cell service on my device. It was a useless piece of glass and titanium.
“Arrgghhhhhhhh!” I screamed.
“Come on, sounding like a fuckin’ pirate in my ear and shit. Unless you ‘bout to jump out of the third-floor window, you need to shut the fuck up and go make the soup. I’ll be resting in the meantime.”
His one uncovered eye was closed, and his face looked stoned and unbothered beneath the scarring from his accident. Placing the gun back into its place inside my nightstand, I flipped open my MacBook and tried to text and FaceTime from the device. It didn’t work.
Hopping out of bed, I slipped my feet into my purple fuzzy slippers and rushed to the door.
I also knew in my gut that Xain wasn’t lying about tampering with my door, but I still had to give it a try.
It was no secret that Q’s big brother Tech could do a lot of underhanded things for a fee, and I was just his latest victim.
I fought to turn the knob on the smart lock for a few seconds, but it wouldn’t budge. Then I went to a few windows, not surprised that the smart window openers were also engaged. Without access to my phone, I was stuck in here.
“I’m gonna cuss Tech’s ass out the next time we cross paths!”
On my trek back to my bedroom, I paused to examine the pile of Publix bags on my dining room table.
“Xain, you’re really insane if you think I’m about to take care of you! This is grippy socks level shit! When I had the flu, I took care of myself. You can do the same! Get the fuck out of my house!”
Xain stood from the bed and sauntered towards the door, slamming it in my face.
I heard the lock click, and rage consumed me.
I darted towards the door, beating on it with both fists.
The thunderous banging went uncontested for a few minutes before I finally gave up and stomped into the living room.
I sat on the couch for about thirty minutes, thinking of a way out.
One of the biggest selling points of the property was its exceptional soundproofing.
The walls were so well insulated that once the door closed, the chaos of the city disappeared.
No traffic, no sirens, and my favorite perk was never hearing my neighbors.
As I sat in my living room while that maniac lay in my bed, I regretted the decision to live there.