14. Warren ‘Wolf’ Bennett
WARREN ‘WOLF’ BENNETT
“Emaye, I’m about to get up out of here. I had a long day. I only stopped by to kick it with you for a little bit,” I said to my mom, getting ready to stand up from the couch.
I’ve been at the shop all day. With the shit that happened to Deja, I haven’t really left the house. I was sticking around, looking after her, even though she would mostly sleep throughout the day.
I had my team managing everything at the store for me.
Even though I haven’t been physically at the shop, I was getting constant calls throughout the day from my team, telling me about some of the big-time customers that came in, the pieces of jewelry that was sold, and shit like that.
Getting back into the swing of things today, it made me realize that that homebody shit wasn’t for me.
I missed the hustle. I arrived at the shop a little after 7 this morning and didn’t leave until after 5.
I had Deja’s number now, so throughout the day, I would check on her, see how she was feeling, and shit like that.
She was ready to get back to work, just like I had been these past few days.
I knew she was counting down the days for this weekend to get here.
“Something about you looks different today. In a good way. Some sort of glow about you. Are you seeing someone, Wolfy?” she asked, calling me that shit like I was a little boy again. When she said that, I shook my head at her, causing her to laugh.
“Man, watch out. I’m a grown ass man, and you calling me that,” I joked with her, and it only made her laugh a little harder.
“Answer my question. Are you seeing someone? Son, I would love to have more grandchildren. Kingston’s kids aren’t babies anymore.
Kendrix and Demarco makes it clear every chance that they get, that they won’t be having kids, so I’m depending on you.
Who is she? And is it serious?” her ass was loud and fuckin wrong.
“That wine you sipping got you talking crazy. I don’t know what mystery woman you’re talking about, lady. I’m still single,” I let her know, and she gave me a look like she didn’t believe me.
Before either one of us could say anything else, the front door unlocked, followed by the alarm chirping.
“Baby, Wolf’s car is in the driveway. He over here?” you could hear the excitement in my dad’s voice, as he walked in the house, asking about me.
We had a toxic relationship, but there was no denying the fact that we both loved each other. He did a lot of fuck shit that I didn’t agree with, but I loved the nigga, nonetheless.
“He’s in the family room with me. You got here just in time because he’s getting ready to leave,” my mom called out to my dad.
Seconds later, he made his way into the family room area.
I peeped the shit that he was holding in his hands.
It was an orange shopping bag from Hermès.
A big ass shopping bag, so I’m sure it was another handbag in there for my mom that her ass didn’t need.
Something for her to add to the collection that she’s been building since I was a little boy.
It wasn’t unusual for my pops to randomly walk in the house, holding onto something pricy for my mom. It made me wonder if he did that shit out of the goodness of his heart, or if the nigga just finished fuckin around, and he picked the handbag up for my mom because he felt guilty.
“What’s up? I didn’t know you were coming over,” he said, walking into the family room, extending his hand out, and shook it up with me.
He sat the shopping bag down on the floor and stood there with this goofy ass smile on his face, as he looked at me. His hands were on his hips, as he looked at me. He did it in a way like he was admiring a nigga. He turned to look at my mama, and she had that same goofy smile on her face.
“You gave me that handsome boy,” she said to my pops.
“Good looking ass nigga. Any time I want to brag, I just gotta tell a nigga to look at my fuckin kids,” he talked his shit, reaching his hand out, so that he could fluff through my hair that was pulled back into a low bun, and then he went over to my mom.
The couch that she was sitting down on, he reached for her. The second he picked her up, they started with that R- rated shit, so I put my head down, choosing not to watch the bullshit that they were doing.
He ended up taking the spot that my mom was sitting in and lowered her down in his lap.
She was all up under that nigga. Arms wrapped around his waist, while she buried her head into the crook of his neck.
There was no doubt that my mama loved his ass.
She was obsessed with him. Nights like this, the love was so evident in her eyes.
He was the same man that could put a smile on her face, but then turn around a few days later, only to have her crying, and sad.
I loved her so much that I wanted all her days to be like tonight.
“Baby, I told Wolf that I want a grandchild. I told him that he looks like he’s glowing. Do you see it?” she asked him, bringing that shit back up.
My dad laughed, and then leaned his head down, so that he could kiss her on the neck.
“That’s good skin. That’s the glow that you see.
I feel like Demarco will give us a grandbaby before Wolf does it.
Wolf the smart one. He not going to let none of these women out here trap him.
Baby, that’s a billion-dollar nigga sitting right there.
He’s going to play it smart. Ain’t that right son? ” he asked me.
He was right, so I nodded my head at that.
I haven’t had pussy in a while, but all the pussy that I’ve ever had, I’ve never felt it raw.
I wasn’t taking any chances. Not to say that all women would do this, but here in Miami, a lot of these women were looking for their next come up. I wasn’t trying to be anybody’s lick.
I stuck around to watch my mom open the new handbag that he’d gotten for her. I didn’t have a woman in my life that I bought handbags for, so I didn’t know shit about the bag that my pops purchased for my mom, but I could tell the motha fucka was pricy.
My mom could teach a master’s class when it came to designer bags, so when she pulled it out, she started screaming.
That shit was dope to see my pops sitting there with that smile on his face, phone in his hands, recording her reaction.
She said that it was a Hermès Birkin 25.
She started talking about crocodile skin, and all that other shit, and that’s when I tuned out.
I chopped it up with them for a little while longer, hugged my mom, kissed her, and I slapped it up with my pops. I let them both know that I loved them and then walked out of the house. I hopped in the car and made my way home.
Ten minutes into the ride, Deja called me. This was her first time calling me. All day, when I’ve been checking in, I would do it through text. To see that she was calling, it had me wondering if it was an emergency, so I quickly answered the phone.
“What’s up?” I answered.
“Wolf, how do you close these blinds in the living room area? I stopped trying to figure it out because I didn’t want to break anything. The sun is shining through the windows, and I don’t know how to close them,” you could hear it in her voice that she was annoyed as fuck.
“Go over to that white panel that’s hanging up on the wall. That panel controls everything throughout the house. Hit shades, then hit living room, and it’ll give you an option to close them. Do that,” I said.
I could hear her moving around. Seconds later, I heard the buttons that she was pressing on the panel, and even though it was a quiet sound, I also heard the blinds closing.
“Okay. I closed them. Thank you,” she said.
“What you doing?” I asked her.
“Nothing. I’m bored. I feel like I’m going crazy in this house. Then, I feel like I’m intruding. I’m in your house, and you’re not even here,” you could hear the agitation in each word that she spoke.
“How you intruding, when this where I told you to stay?” I asked.
“I don’t know. That’s how I feel,” she said.
“Well, what you’re feeling is wrong, love. I told you to stay where the protection is. You want to get out of the house? Where you want to go? I’ll be there in like ten minutes,” I said.
“You know I can’t be out in public with you.
Wolf, I know you don’t be outside like that, and you like to live in your own bubble, but I’m telling you how these people are in Miami.
The second they see me out with you, they’re going to take pictures, and make up stories that you’re fuckin me.
I got too much going on. Plus, I’m still thinking about the shit that happened between you, and Hitta over the phone last night,” she had all these excuses, and I sat here, tuning her ass out, not paying much attention to anything that she was saying.
“Ay, put some clothes on. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” was my response to what she just said.
“Did you hear anything that I just finished saying to you?” she asked me.
“I heard every word that you just finished saying to me. You think I care that people going to make up stories that I’m fuckin you?
At least, they’ll know that you getting fucked good,” I threw that last part in there, and when I said it, you could tell that I caught her off guard because her voice was stuck, and she didn’t say anything else for a few seconds.
“They going to see my black eyes, and think you blacked them,” she had another excuse.
“Ten minutes just turned into eight. I had makeup in that Target bag for you. Put some of that shit on your face, and let’s get out of the house,” I didn’t give her a second to respond. I ended up hanging the phone up on her ass.
Just like I told her over the phone, I ended up pulling into the parking garage in eight minutes. I parked in my designated parking spot, turned the car off, and quickly stepped out. After grabbing all the things that I needed, I closed the door and locked it behind me.
I let myself into the building and headed for the elevators.
I rode the elevator up in silence, and before I knew it, I was stepping off and heading for my spot.
I was used to getting in the house around this time with the blinds opened, giving me that beautiful view of downtown, but tonight, that shit was closed.
Deja closed all the blinds because of the sun shining into the spot.
Because I knew we were getting ready to leave, I didn’t bother taking my shoes off.
I kept them on, walking over to the living room area, where I took a seat.
Five minutes into me sitting here, Deja came from the back.
She was dressed in the clothes that she arrived at my house in.
The clothes were clean because she did laundry last night, after we finished eating.
I noticed that she used the makeup from the bag to put around her eyes because sitting here, you would never even know that she had two black eyes.
I didn’t want to sit here, and stare at her, looking like a fuckin creep, but truthfully, this girl was so fuckin beautiful that you had no choice but to stare.
That chocolate brown color in her hair was one of my favorite features about her.
She had the hair in a half up/half down look.
The outfit was just a cropped tee, with lowrider jeans.
When she dropped the sandals down to the floor, so that she could step into them, I got a view of her from the side.
It was the kind of view that made you want to put your hands together, and clap.
The illusion of that little ass waist and then seeing the way her ass poked out in the jeans was museum worthy. That body could be hung up in the fuckin museum for others to pay to get the chance of seeing it in person.
“Where are we going?” she asked me.
“Try that entrance again with me, love. I haven’t laid eyes on you since I left here first thing this morning. Greet a nigga,” I was firm.
She looked at me, as if she was trying to figure out whether I was playing with her. When she didn’t see a smirk on my face or anything, that’s when her face lightened a little bit.
“Hello Warren. How are you? Would you like me to give you a hug too?” she asked, trying to be sarcastic.
I stood up from the couch, my hands free because my phones were sitting on the small table that was in front of me.
“Call me Warren when I piss you off. When shit gets rocky between us, and you feel like I got you fucked up, then you can call me Warren. Aside from that, I prefer you to call me Wolf. Oh, and to answer the last part of your question, I’ll take that hug. You need one too,” I blurted.
“That was sarcasm when I said that,” she voiced.
“Well, it wasn’t sarcasm when I said it. I’ll take the hug,” I continued.
She was trying to be so fuckin tough, and act like she didn’t need this hug. I knew she needed it. I could tell how uptight she was all the way over here.
She ended up walking over to me, dropping her phone down on the table, and I thought she was going to be slick, and try to give me a church hug.
She didn’t do that though. She wrapped both arms around my neck, and I was respectful, only wrapping one arm around her waist. The way her head dropped, leaning into my chest, I knew she needed this hug, just like I suspected.
I felt like she was dropping all her life’s problems onto me.
It was evident in the way her head dropped on my chest.
All that shit she was talking about the hug being sarcasm had gone out of the window.
I felt like she was clinging onto me. She could have pulled away any second now, but she didn’t.
She stayed right here, arms around my neck, with her head on my chest. With my free hand, I used it to pick it up and slowly massaged my hands through her scalp.
I made sure that my touch was gentle because I remember asking her how she was feeling last night, and one of the things that she told me was that the back of her head was still sore. That nigga slammed her down on the bathroom floor, so that’s where the soreness came from.
Deja didn’t pull away from me until almost two minutes later. When she did, she looked up at me, while I looked down at her. I was much taller than her. She couldn’t have been any taller than 5’6”.
“Seriously, where are we going?” she asked again.
“We gone walk. It’s all kinds of restaurants and shit outside. That’s all we going to do,” I told her, and she nodded as if she was fine with that.
If we ran into someone that spotted us out together, and they felt the need to post that shit online, then it is what it is.
The kind of nigga that I was, it wasn’t in me to duck from no cameras, run from no smoke, or move differently because of outside opinions.
The way I saw it, if I didn’t want people knowing that I was outside, moving around in public with Deja, then I wouldn’t be doing it.
If I was doing it, then it was because I didn’t give a fuck.