Down the Rabbit Hole #3
Tyree pushed it into the gas then, speeding by a wall of women holding AK-47s like we were in some war torn country. As soon as we cleared them, they opened fire.
We kept going, stopping at the roundabout in front of the house. I looked back, and saw two cars pulled over before the gate, smoking. The girls were still firing into the cars, moving in sync as they killed whoever was chasing us.
My door was wrenched open, and I was face to face with Rico in twenty years. Honey eyes scanned my face, before dipping low.
“Damn. She’s hit. I’ma lift you up, cari?a. Hold onto me.”
I cried out when he shifted me to unbuckle my seatbelt, and leaned into him as he lifted me bridal style. Tyree was barking into his phone. To who? I didn’t know.
I just wanted to sleep.
“Stay up, cari?a. You can’t go to sleep, okay?”
But I was already in a losing battle. And once again, I surrendered to the darkness.
Soft sounds of kitchen utensils hitting each other filtered through my brain, making me wince.
Mom would always do that shit. Drag her knives and forks across the plates. She enjoyed how uncomfortable it made me and Auty.
But how did I get back to my mom? That wasn’t right–
When my eyes finally fluttered, pain filtered through my body, especially my side.
But I couldn’t be bothered with that, because there was an older version of Rico sitting next to the bed I occupied, eating a full breakfast on what looked like expensive china.
He was dressed in a tan suit. His hair was in a low ponytail, the ends curled. I would think he’d have a beard like my dad, but no, this man had only a little more facial hair than Rico and Fredo, and looked about the same height as them, or even shorter.
Their father. Pooh.
A pimp.
He stabbed the last piece of egg and pancake, and met my gaze as he brought his fork to his mouth.
His eyes, like the twins’, were light brown. Though Pooh’s was more like maple syrup than honey. It was uncanny how much his sons favored him, and only made me wanna see what their mother looked like.
He chewed slowly and measured, like we had all the time in the world. Finally, he swallowed, and placed his utensils on the tray before him.
“Good morning, Wynter Snow.”
My eyes stretched, at both how nice his voice was, and how he knew my name. I sat up in the bed, keeping the blankets over me, even though I knew I was fully dressed under them–a nice satin long sleeve pajama set that was kind of making me hot.
“How do you know my name? Where am I?”
Pooh peered at me for a long moment, seemingly deciding something. Then he blinked, mind made up. “You’re at The Hive, my… oasis. And I know the name of every muthafucka who walks through these doors, especially when I gotta make sure they stay alive. How’s your side?”
I winced, remembering the dull pain. “I’ll be alright. What happened?”
“Bullet fragments. But because we didn’t know you were rolling when we put you under anesthesia, you had a reaction. You were out for… a while.”
I blanched. “What’s a while?”
He shrugged, lifting his ankle to his other knee. “Four days. Give or take.”
“Four days?! I need to find–” I went to launch off the bed but froze as soon as Pooh stood to his full height.
Slowly, I sank back into the bed, trying to keep from peeing myself. This guy was nuts.
“Your sister is home safe. And unharmed.” His lip twitched before he added, “I heard she’s a real thoroughbred.”
Whatever that means. “Can I… can I go home?”
He shoved a hand in his pocket. “Unfortunately, no. Y’all stumbled into some real horse shit, and my nephew begged me to make sure you both were tucked away while we clean up this mess. And from what I hear, neither one of you were supposed to even be in the Birch.
So it’s been decided that you can spend Christmas here. And before you ask, no, you won’t have access to a phone or the internet.”
My shoulders dropped. I didn’t feel in danger; in fact, I’d oddly never felt safer. But I need to see with my own eyes that Auty was okay.
Pooh saw my plea, because he produced his phone and tapped a few times before he showed me his screen.
She was dirty, and her tights were ripped, but she was okay, and in her room.
“Thank God,” I breathed. “Fine. I’ll stay.”
“You ain’t have a choice, cari?a,” Pooh smirked. “Be nice to Pilar; she rarely has guests.”
My eyebrows crinkled, before a soft knock sounded on the door behind him.
Two women entered. One in a scandalous maid outfit, and another woman, probably only a few years older than me, that was utterly gorgeous.
Otherworldly. That nineties fine, with milk chocolate skin and a pixie cut. She had big doll eyes covered in gray colored contacts that could pass for her own in the right light, and a dramatic sheer red robe with fur lining.
The maid took Pooh’s tray, and he leaned down to kiss her cheek before she left. The other woman came to stand at his side, and folded herself into him as she peered at me with interest.
“Pilar. You’re in charge of making sure our guest has a good time. Remember the rules,” he said, eyes turning sharp as he held my gaze.
I recognized the test immediately.
I didn’t know how much he knew about me, but he knew I knew Foe Dub. I was familiar enough for Tyree to go to bat for me.
He wanted to know how much I knew about him, if anything. I hadn’t asked him his name once. We hadn’t even brought up his sons.
Anyone who didn’t know anything would blanch. He wasn’t a regular guy, by far.
And I wasn’t batting an eye. Not at what I should have been concerned about.
Pilar grinned, showing two rows of perfect white teeth surrounded by naturally pouty and full lips. “We’re gonna have so much fun, Wynter Snow.”
I smiled back, because it was impossible not to. “Can’t wait.”
Pooh lifted an eyebrow, before kissing Pilar on the cheek. “I’ll leave you both to it, then.”