Chapter 6 #2
She hadn’t expected to hear that kind of defeat in his broken voice.
Although the conversation between him and Phoebe was tough to overhear, she never believed that woman ever genuinely gave a damn about anyone other than herself.
Clearly the same could not be said for him.
He’d trusted her, allowed her close to him, and she was the worst enemy he never saw coming.
Turning away from Desiree, he strolled into his living room, eyes on the face of his late wife staring back at him from the painting above the fireplace.
An icy wave of air swept his spine, and his thoughts spiraled, thinking about what had been under his nose the whole time.
He prided himself on being a man who could see through that fake shit.
Somehow Phoebe slipped through the critique.
She was close. Friends with Jane, or so he thought.
Now he had to look at that friendship completely different.
It was one-sided. Jane was a good friend to Phoebe, not the other way around.
As bad as he wanted to kill her, he didn’t get the urge to do so.
Maybe he was in shock. He damn sure couldn’t speak for his sons if they ever found out.
Now he struggled with telling them or carrying that harsh truth to his grave.
If any of them ever found out, they’d never forgive him for not knowing.
He had no control over how they felt or moved in the situation.
Jane was their mama in every sense of the word.
If anyone spoke ill of her now, it never ended well for them.
Mozzi took a bite of his taco and glanced across the table at his wife.
Tucked into a booth together inside Comfort Kitchen, she looked lighter.
Not all the way herself, but better than she had been the last couple of weeks.
The place was loud tonight. Silverware clinked all over the place while kids laughed, and the old ’80s tracks played over the sound system.
Beside them in her car seat and stroller set, Iara slept through it all.
“Yo’ pretty ass smiled like three times tonight,” he observed.
Coast’s eyes rolled back. “You counted?”
“Hell yeah. I’m responsible for that. If you ain’t smiling, I need to know how to fix that shit.”
“You can’t be the sole reason for my happiness, Moses.”
“I know. I gotta make sure I love on you right, though, so you know with or without me who the fuck you are. You ain’t ever gotta question it or wonder about the next bitch—”
Before Coast could respond, she sensed the hate behind her. A voice cut in. Cold and familiar.
“Wow.” Gill got all dramatic when she spotted the three of them together.
Taking a sip from her fountain cup, Coast side eyed her but didn’t feed into it.
Gill was the type who was always ready for action when there was competition.
No matter how she was raised, she let all that reality TV bullshit get to her head.
Roni was beside her. Neither of them smiled.
Mozzi immediately stopped chewing and squinted.
Eyes sweeping over them, he took note of their appearance now that he wasn’t in their life.
A lot of bitches let themselves go when a nigga stopped fucking with them.
Gill was overdressed, as usual, in some ridiculously expensive Chanel pantsuit, while Roni was on her sleek, sensual shit in a tight red spandex dress and heels.
“I figured once Lin was gone, you two would lean on each other. Gotta stick to what you know, right?” Mozzi popped the last bite of his taco into his mouth and chuckled.
“So, this is family life,” Gill gushed in a faux tone, arms crossing over her chest.
Roni’s eyes shifted to Iara, and for a moment, something soft flickered there, then disappeared.
Coast shifted slightly. She lived in fight mode, but having Iara had lowered her defenses and made her more cautious of the world.
Anything could happen, and the last thing she wanted was to ever be separated from her baby girl.
Instinctively protective, she directed her attention to both women.
“Relax, we’re not here for you or your baby,” Roni assured her, catching that mama bear glint in her striking eyes. “We’re here for him.” Her gaze drifted over to Mozzi.
“Ain’t shit I can do for either one of y’all.”
“You might not think so, but… there’s a few things we need to say to you,” Gill spoke up.
“We all spent years caught up in your chaos, the bipolar bullshit before you even knew what it was. You treated us like dolls, switching us out, putting us on the shelf, or parading us around like little trophies to pump up your own ego.”
“Like you ain’t get shit out of it?” Mozzi posed.
“As you can see, I’m out with my wife.” He nodded across the table at Coast, and both women eyed the small ice boulder on her finger.
“And my daughter. Trying to enjoy a meal. You coming over here trying to have some kind of closure session ain’t doing shit but pissing me off. ”
“You gon’ do us like you did Lin?” Gill posed.
A hearty, yet menacing chuckle came from Mozzi, and he pinched the tip of his nose.
“Lin did that shit to herself,” he clarified. “And I ain’t about to sit here and explain shit to either one of you.”
“That’s cold, Mozzi. Even for you.” Roni hugged herself. “You just walked away. No goodbye. No explanation. You cut us out like we didn’t mean shit to you!”
Mozzi didn’t say anything at first. His eyes bounced between the two women for a second before gamboling to Coast, who leaned back and waited for the shit show to be over.
She prayed her daughter never became like either woman standing in front of her.
Pathetic and desperate was never a good look, no matter how put together either of them seemed.
“Let me ask y’all something. When did I ever make any type of commitment to either of you bitches?
Y’all made the choice to participate in my bullshit for your own fucking reasons.
Shit turned into a fucking game where you was just competing to see who would last the longest. It wasn’t about me.
It was about you winning. Y’all made me the fucking prize. ”
Roni and Gill stopped talking, both still visibly angry but without rebuttal against him in that moment.
The way he put it had them eyeing each other crazily with turned-up noses.
For years, they’d wasted time and effort competing against each other.
Trying to out freak the other, be supportive, and do whatever they thought might gain points with Mozzi.
It was never about that for him. He enjoyed sex and having something pretty to look at, but none of them had ever mentally stimulated a man like him.
“Now, do us all a favor.” He leaned forward, hands clasped together, a darkness lingering in his eyes before his next words came. “Leave that shit where it is. Me, you, Lin. It’s over. Move on with your lives, or you won’t like where I take this shit next,” he warned them.
Fear flitted through Roni’s glistening eyes before they connected to Gill’s at her side, flaring her nostrils.
Although mad as hell, she knew they were defeated.
Seeing Mozzi in family man mode was the only thing left for them to witness.
Roni’s gaze veered back in Coast’s direction.
Not cruel this time, more so tired and accepting of the situation in front of her.
“You know what the worst part of this is?” she asked.
Coast didn’t respond. She waited, tucking her arms across her chest before eyeing her with annoyance.
“It wasn’t just that he picked someone.” Roni glanced at Mozzi. “It was that he suddenly decided to become a version of the man we all knew was in there… for someone else.” Her gaze returned to Coast.
Even Mozzi felt the hurt in the statement, but he remained expressionless as his jaw tightened.
“I might not have been the nigga y’all wanted me to be, but I ain’t never lied or faked shit with either of y’all. What they saying now? I hope you fucking heal.”
“Moses!” Coast hissed at him across the table.
“Come on, Roni.” Gill relaxed her arms at her side and nudged her.
There wasn’t anything else either of them could say. The fight in the room left with them as they strolled to the exit together. Coast studied her husband across the table, dipping his tortilla chip in the house queso.
“What?” he asked, frowning in confusion.
“You are something else.”
“This coming from the same muhfucka who wanted me to shoot all of them a few months ago.” Mozzi shook his head.
Coast stared after Roni and Gill, picking up her drink off the table so she could sip it. Someone at the front counter caught her attention. He was trying not to stick out, but the hoodie over his head only drew her attention to him. Mozzi noticed when she froze.
“What’s wrong?”
At first, she didn’t answer, so he followed her eyes to the counter. Tall, dark hoodie, and paranoid eyes bounced around the restaurant. He tried to keep his back to the crowd, but she recognized him even from the side profile.
“Him,” Coast whispered.
“Who?” Mozzi squinted and watched as Coast’s breathing changed.
Something had her shook as she lowered her cup to the table.
“Dude at the counter.”
“What about him?”
“That’s Justin. The dude who was with Ayla the night she disappeared,” she volunteered.
“Are you sure?” Mozzi fished his cell from his pocket and aimed his camera so he could snap a photo.
Coast’s eyes never budged. He nervously tapped his hand on the counter, waiting for his order to arrive. Obviously antsy, he surveyed the restaurant the entire time.
“I’m positive. I’ve seen him one other time when we were out grocery shopping. That’s definitely him.” Finally, Justin’s food was served to him in a paper bag, and he grabbed it to go.
“Stay right here.” Mozzi eased out of the booth and shuffled to the door behind Justin.