13. Deja McCoy
DEJA MCCOY
The sound of a vacuum cleaner running awakened me from my sleep.
At first, I thought that I was hearing things.
If I was home, there was no way that my vacuum cleaner would just cut on like this.
Knowing that, I quickly shot up from the bed.
My quick actions caused my head to pound a little bit.
I looked around, and that’s when it hit me that I wasn’t home.
That’s when I remembered that I was at Wolf’s place.
Ever since I’ve been here, the only thing I wanted to do was take the pain pills that the doctor prescribed me, and then I would sleep for most of the day.
She must have felt my eyes on her because she turned to look at me.
With a smile on her face, she turned the vacuum off, stood it up, and walked into the room.
Watching her, all I could think to myself was how beautiful she was.
Her long hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and there was just a little bit of sweat on her forehead from the cleaning she was doing.
She had on a white polo shirt stamped with “Rosie’s Cleaning Services”.
Along with the shirt was a pair of blue jeans, and just her black socks. I’m sure her shoes were downstairs.
“Hi mami,” her accent was really thick.
“Hi. Where is Wolf?” I questioned.
“Mr. Bennett is downstairs. He’s preparing dinner,” she said. I just stared at her blankly, not sure what I should say to that.
“He has… ummm…. For you. He has stuff for you,” she said, her accent so thick, as she picked her finger up, and she pointed to the shopping bags that were sitting on the floor.
This was my first time seeing the bags. It was Target bags. About five of them. She was telling me that he purchased some things for me. I thanked her for letting me know, and she nodded her head. After that, she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her, leaving me in here by myself.
I stood from the bed and went over to the bags from Target.
There were all kinds of things inside for me.
Lounge clothes, pajamas, underwear, bras, all kinds of toiletries, house shoes, everything.
It brought me back to the question that I asked him the night that he brought me here from the hospital.
I wanted to know why he was being so nice to me.
I had no understanding why he was doing all these things for me.
I was so broken inside, living with so much trauma, that I wasn’t used to people doing things for me out of the kindness of their hearts.
I knew that I needed to take a shower. I woke up the other morning to a top and some bottoms that Wolf had for me at the foot of the bed.
To shower, I used the toiletries that were in the guest bathroom.
That was the last shower I remember taking, and I was so lost with time that I couldn’t remember if that was yesterday, or two days ago.
I hated what the medicine was doing to my brain, also how it was making me shut down, and only want to sleep. I wanted to see if I could get through the rest of the day without taking anything.
I took the things out of the bags that I was going to need. I adored the gray longue set that he’d purchased for me. It was a long sleeve set. I grabbed the house shoes, panties, bra, and all the other toiletries that I was going to need. Once I had everything, I took the items into the bathroom.
After cutting the lights on, I sat the items down.
Looking at myself in the mirror, I didn’t get as emotional as I’ve been getting when I’ve saw my reflection the past few times.
My eyes still looked bad, but they weren’t as terrible.
They were healing. The swelling had gone down so much, but around the eyes, it was still black and blue.
I felt around the area, and it was still tender. My lip was healing as well.
I still couldn’t believe that Hitta put his hands on me.
I couldn’t help but to feel like my mother, as I stood in front of the mirror.
The kind of men that my mom dealt with when I was a kid, they would often put their hands on her.
Her mouth was terrible. I’ve witnessed the way she’s talked to niggas.
Nari’s dad used to beat the shit out of her.
Back when they had a co-parenting schedule when Nari was a little girl, they would get into it so bad, and he would beat her down like a man on the street.
That went on for years, until he eventually stopped coming around.
I remember watching her cover up her black eyes with heavy make-up.
I remember saying how I wouldn’t become that woman when I was grown, and I meant that.
I would not stick around and allow Hitta to do this shit for the second time.
I would be the dumbest bitch alive to accept the nigga not only having a baby on me but putting his hands on me too.
I didn’t want to think about these things because it was only going to make me angrier.
I quickly removed my clothes, and I went over to the shower, turning it on.
While the water was warming up, I opened the bar of soap, and the body wash that I wanted to take over to the shower with me.
I also grabbed the shampoo, and conditioner as well because I wanted to wash my hair.
My leave- out, and these bundles needed a good wash, and that’s what I was prepared to do.
With everything in hand, I took the items over to the shower, and stepped in.
I was in the shower for a little over thirty minutes.
I was one of those people that took long showers anyways, but since I had to wash my hair, that made the shower even longer.
I wrapped one towel around my head, while the other towel went around my body.
At the sink, I used the toothbrush and toothpaste that he’d purchase for me and brushed my teeth.
I washed my face as best I could, being mindful of the bruises.
Once that was done, I added ointment to the bruises, and stepped out into the bedroom, where I dried off, added lotion to my body, and placed on the lounge clothes, and house shoes.
For my hair, I used the towel to pat it dry, and once it was dry enough, I allowed it to hang loosely. I didn’t have the energy to stand in front of a mirror right now and try to blow dry it.
I cleaned my area up in the bathroom, as well as the bedroom, and that’s when I finally left out of the room. I haven’t left this room since I’ve gotten here. Wasn’t like I knew my way around, and the cleaner that came into the bedroom, I no longer saw her, so I couldn’t ask her which way to go.
This two-story penthouse condo that Wolf had was huge.
I forgot the way to the stairs. It felt like I was walking forever until I eventually found them.
I slowly took them down, and as I walked, I smelled whatever it was that he was in the kitchen cooking.
Not sure what he was preparing, but it smelled good.
I was lost again, not knowing which direction I should go in.
I just followed the route that my nose led me to.
I eventually made it to a massive, modern styled kitchen, and spotted Wolf, standing in front of the stove, looking into a pot, as he used a wooden spoon, to move whatever was inside around.
I had no idea how you could see someone from behind, and they still looked beautiful.
I’ve never seen him with his hair hanging.
This would be the first. I was so used to seeing him with his hair pulled back into a low bun.
His hair was so beautiful. I wasn’t even really referring to the texture, either.
That played its part, but I’m more so talking about how thick and full it was.
Those curls were so healthy. I hadn’t realized that his hair was so long, either.
It was almost to his waist. You could tell that his hair was something that he took really good care of.
Then, he was standing there in a black wife beater, that was clinging onto his body, showing his big broad shoulders, and even the muscles that he had in his back.
He wore black, cotton material shorts, that went down to his knees.
He wasn’t sagging in the shorts or anything.
You couldn’t see the hem of his briefs because his shorts fit perfectly at his waist.
Since we were in the house, he had on black socks, with house shoes.
Standing here, watching him at the stove, it just hit me that this was my first time watching a man cook. I was only 23 years old. The men that I’ve dealt with have only been a few years older than me, and they didn’t know how to cook. I was always the one doing all the cooking.
Wolf had to feel my eyes on him because he eventually turned around to look at me. He looked me up and down, but it wasn’t in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. You could tell that he was doing it in a way to just get a feel of me, taking me in, trying to see if I looked better today.
“Hey,” I was the one to speak first.
“What’s up? How you doing?” he asked, putting the top on the pot, and fully turning his body around. I hated that it was naturally in me to look at a nigga’s dick print.
The second he turned around, that’s exactly where my eyes went, and seeing it, I instantly started coughing up a storm. It caught me off guard, which caused me to swallow my spit down the wrong entrance, and here I was, coughing like a fool.
That dick was huge! Granted, I already knew because I remember the night that I danced on him at the club, and I could feel it poking me through the jeans that he was wearing, but I never imagined it to be that damn big.
He was definitely the definition of a third leg.
That dick looked like a foot was stuck in his shorts.
“You okay? You need some water?” he asked me, as I continued to cough, while walking over to his island area, and pulling out one of the barstools.