Chapter 14 Don’t Push Me #3
Usually lighthearted, it was obvious he was genuinely offended by the notion, and Prischa frowned as Petal’s mouth hung open with no answer. She used the towel in her hand to dry a skillet and faced him with his brows all bunched together.
“I didn’t know you were so sensitive either,” Petal teased, half smirking as she looked between he and Prischa.
Now it all was making sense to her. Viggo used his sense of humor to mask a lot, and he’d been doing it since he moved in with them as a child.
He’d always had eyes for Prischa, but since he was younger and Heavy’s cousin, she had never looked at him like that.
Viggo ran through so many women so he didn’t have to sit around, pining or waiting for Prischa to show him any attention.
It was nothing for him to find a seat filler, but he was a playboy.
He’d never had anything long term and never even considered it if he was honest about it.
The front door slammed shut, dragging them from their conversation as a set of urgent footsteps moved in their direction. Heavy’s large figure filled the doorway, and Viggo stood tall against the island counter beside Prischa.
“Didn’t expect you back here tonight,” Petal spoke up. “I thought you would be with Giselle and the kids.”
“She said she needed to be alone,” Heavy answered, voice tight as Henna and Toussaint rolled in behind her.
“Oh, were her little feelings hurt?” Henna mocked with a pouty face, catching daggers from her brother as she sank into one of the chairs at the oak table.
“You know what? Fuck you, Henna!” her twin barked. “I’m sick of you and all your little underhanded comments. You don’t like her. Fine. Keep that shit to yourself or don’t fucking come around me!”
“Are you serious right now?” Tears filled her eyes.
Heavy had never spoken to her like that. A piece of her heart cracked when she caught the conviction behind his glare. He meant every word.
“That’s what the fuck I said.” He gritted his teeth.
“You would cut me out of your life for her?” she demanded, shooting to her feet.
It was all starting to sink in for her, which left her trembling in fear. She loved her brother to death. What would she do if she didn’t have him to talk to? He’d always been a safe space for her, too, but him threatening to take that away left her reeling.
“You and anybody else that got a problem with her.”
“You don’t even know her!” Henna shrieked.
“You fucked her one time, years ago, and got her pregnant! You think because you made babies with her that she’s what…
your soul mate or some shit? She doesn’t deserve you.
She ran out of here and never even let you know she was pregnant.
She married another man and let him raise your kids as his!
How the hell can you even look at her, let alone want to be with her? ”
Silence met with tension filled the air as everyone waited for Heavy to respond. The cold hard facts hit him in the chest.
“That’s enough, Henna.” Petal sighed.
“No, it’s not. He wants everyone to forget about the past and move on when it’s convenient for him!” Henna ranted.
The light tapping at the door as Toussaint came strolling into the kitchen marred their attention. Petal peeked at her watch on her wrist. It was almost 7:00 p.m.
“Now, who could that be?” she muttered to herself.
“I’ll get it.” Horace marched over to the back door, turned the lock, and yanked it open. “Oh, now, what the hell!” he exclaimed, ready to slam the door in Milani’s face.
“Excuse you, Horace!” Heavy and Henna’s mother slammed the palm of her hand against the door and shoved it back.
“Who the hell invited Mommie Dearest?” Horace called over his shoulder.
He and Milani struggled with the door, but she was younger and in better shape than she’d ever been, so she was able to nudge him back so she could enter.
Her sandy brown hair hung in a blunt cut shoulder length bob.
Normally, her skin was ashen, like she was near death, but tonight she had a glow and wore a natural beat.
In a pair of black slacks with a white blouse and black vest over it, her three-inch heels clicked against the tile as she entered the kitchen.
“Mommy, what are you doing here?” Henna queried, not as surprised as everyone else was to see her.
“It’s Sunday, and I know y’all have dinner around these parts. I’m starving.” Milani moved past Horace and set her purse on the table.
Heavy stood stiff, eyes drinking in the put together woman in front of him.
He was used to his mother having a sunken face and dark eyes with big bags drooping underneath them.
Her usually matted her was smooth in a silk press and looked as healthy as she did.
Instead of a dull glare, there was this bright glint that he recognized in her from when he was a child.
“I told you I would bring you something later tonight. Why did you come here?” Henna shut her eyes, clearly frustrated.
“Because I’m family, damnit!” Milani’s hands rested on her hips. “You told me that Heavy and his kids were here. I’m their grandma, and I want to meet them.”
“You’ve been talking to her?” Heavy turned his rage onto his sister.
“I’m her mother. What you all tight about right now? What, is she supposed to shut me out because you did?” Milani questioned.
“Oh, he’s not mad at you. He’s mad at me because I called out his baby mama on her bullshit, and he can’t handle the truth,” Henna emphasized.
Heavy’s quick strides toward her sent Henna backing up until she was pressed between nothing but him and the wall.
“This the last time I’m talking to you about this,” Heavy warned, aiming a finger in her face. “If you can’t respect her or her role as their mother, then you can stay the fuck away from me and my kids. You don’t even get to talk about her, or that’s your ass, Henna.”
She blinked back tears and scoffed, not one to ever back down, not even against him.
“Don’t worry. When she turns into that bitch I know she is, you will eat those words.”
When Heavy lunged for her, Toussaint stepped in. He pressed a hand against his chest and could feel the pulse of his son’s heart racing while searching his unusually dark eyes.
“Fall back,” Toussaint insisted, and Heavy knocked his hand away.
“You want to talk about her when you harboring the woman that abandoned us like she’s some fucking saint! Fuck you, Henna!” Heavy spat.
“Come on, bro.” Viggo stepped up.
Heavy turned, submerged in full blown rage when he snatched him up and slammed him into the nearest wall.
“The fuck you say?” he growled, holding two fistfuls of Viggo’s shirt as he brought his face closer to his.
“You tripping!”
“Heavy, let him go!” Petal ordered.
“From now on, all you muhfuckas stay the fuck from around me!” he hissed, pushing himself off Viggo and releasing him from his firm hold.
“You don’t mean that—” Petal spoke up.
“I stand on it!” Heavy assured her before stomping out of the kitchen.
The front door slammed so hard behind him that Petal, Henna, and Prischa all flinched. It even rattled the pictures on the walls in the hallway. Shaking her head, their grandmother opened a lower cabinet to store the skillet she dried, and Horace leaned against the counter beside her.
“I swear, y’all worse than the damn family on Soul Food.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Viggo, roll up!”