Tariq “Reek” Horton
The second Ava ran out crying, everyone’s eyes were on me.
Everybody had watched her leave with that same look of pity on their faces for her and disgust for me too. I stood there in a room amongst men who loved loudly and proud, looking like an ain’t shit nigga.
And I hated that all around me were men who had done this better. They willingly built lives, peace, and families with their women. They built a bond with their families that everyone admired and envied.
Then there was me, standing there after making a pregnant woman cry in front of everybody.
Saint seethed, “No matter how scared you are of being a father, there is no way in hell you’re about to work with this family while acting like my niece or nephew don’t exist.”
My nostrils flared as I tried to control the rage and feeling of losing control. “You know exactly why I feel how I feel about kids.”
“I do,” he shot back. “And I still don’t give a fuck.”
Zahra tried to touch his arm. He shrugged her off without even looking at her.
I stepped closer too. “You understand the wound more than anybody. I’ve talked to you about this shit. So don’t stand here acting like this came out of nowhere.”
“Yeah, I understand the wound, but I don’t understand you thinking it’s cool to abandon her, especially in my fucking face.”
“That’s not what I did.”
“The fuck it ain’t,” he barked. “That girl was standing here looking broken.”
Sincere strengthened his stance between us before either one of us pushed it too far. “A’ight,” he forced. “Enough. The kids are right here.”
I looked past him and caught Sire peeking from behind Aria’s leg. Truth was staring. Reign had that confused little-kid look like she knew something bad was happening but didn’t know what.
Aria stepped forward then, holding Major against her shoulder. Her face was softer than the men’s but no less serious. “You need to go talk to her.”
I looked at her like she was asking me to perform surgery.
“The cameras pinged my phone,” she added. “She ran to my wing.”
“What the fuck am I supposed to say?” I asked, more frustrated than I meant to sound.
“Anything, nigga!” Saint snapped.
I laughed once, dry and humorless, because that was easy for him to say. Like there was some easy way to fix this, like there was some good way to tell a woman you never wanted this and still not crush her.
I looked around the room one more time and felt cornered from every side.
So, I walked out. I didn’t know what to say to Ava.
But standing there with all of them looking at me like I had just failed some test of manhood was making my trigger finger itch.
And because no matter how much I wanted to stay mad, some lower, scarier feeling kept dragging me toward the hallway anyway.
As I headed toward Aria’s wing, all I could think was that I had never wanted to be in the kind of position where a child could look at me and feel let down.
That had always been the point. I never wanted to be the man a kid waited by the window for. I never wanted to be the voice they listened for and never heard. I never wanted to be the reason a child learned disappointment too young. Because I knew exactly what that shit felt like.
And the second that thought hit, my mind went somewhere I hated. Back to being small enough to still believe my mother was coming back for me.