Chapter 6 #3
“Is that your way of covering your ass or sum’?
That shit don’t fuckin’ cut it. If the shoe was on the other fuckin’ foot, you’d want to know.
If Oliver’s dick was down her throat, would you not want me to tell you some shit like that?
Huh? There ain’t no boundaries when it come to that.
I don’t have to second-guess whether I’d tell you, because I would.
In a heartbeat. And you know that. But you bringin’ yo slow ass in here tryin’ to say that don’t erase the fact that you’re a grimy ass bitch just like her fat ass,” I spat, my jaw clenched tight.
“You watched me plan this trip, and you knew about her fucking Romelo this whole time—had me looking like a fool!”
She kept pleading her case, like that would somehow make it better for her or the situation.
“I didn’t know the whole time,” she tried to explain. “I just found out about it recently, and I didn’t know how to tell you—”
“What the fuck you mean you didn’t know how to tell me?” My face scrunched up. “You pick up the fucking phone and say something, hoe! Fuck is wrong wit’ you, bitch? The way you comin’, I need to ask if you fuckin’ on him too? I ain’t got shit to say to you either.”
Clutching my suitcase, I rolled it across the marble floor, brushing past her as I yanked the door open.
Behind me, I could feel Mimi standing there, looking like a lost puppy.
But I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to hear shit she had to say, and it wouldn’t make a motherfucking difference anyway.
The Uber pulled up, headlights cutting through the darkness and palm trees. I put my luggage in the trunk, slid into the back seat, and didn’t look back.
Not once.
A FEW HOURS LATER
Fishing around for my purse for the house keys, I scurried up the steps with my suitcase in tow, my body heavy with exhaustion from the flight.
Every muscle ached, and I didn’t have much strength to do anything.
I turned the knob, and the door opened because it was unlocked, so I slid my keys back inside my purse.
The living room was a mess, smelling like dirty clothes and mold, making me scrunch up my nose from the reek.
The contrast hit me immediately. Just hours ago, I was in a luxury villa with marble floors and ocean views, and now I was back in this.
Monterrius was sitting on the edge of the couch with a friend.
Their attention was zeroed in on the television as they played the game, thumbs stabbing at the joystick. The game system must’ve been new.
I closed and locked the door after me, leaving my suitcase beside it. “Where mama at?”
Monterrius glanced up at me and rolled his eyes hard, his face twisting up with disgust. I guess he was still pissy from the altercation that happened between us a while ago. He’s always been like me—the one to hold grudges.
“In her skin,” he snickered, causing his friend to laugh too.
“You got a real smart-ass mouth, you know that?”
“Man, why the fuck are you even here?” He sat the controller down and turned to face me fully, his voice dripping with venom. “Ain’t you Hollywood now? You too good for the hood, right?”
“Monterrius—”
He paused their game, making his friend suck his teeth and frown. “Nah, mane, for real though. You ain’t been checking on nobody. When’s the last time you asked if we had food in this bitch? When’s the last time you gave a fuck if we ate or not, Trecee?”
His friend watched the interaction between the both of us.
I took a deep breath. I was too tired for this bullshit, but Monterrius needed a fucking reality check.
“I’m not responsible for you. I ain’t yo fucking mama. You shouldn’t be so quick to jump down my throat because the one who pushed you out is half-stepping. I don’t owe ya’ll shit. That’s where you’ve always had shit confused. Your beef should be with your guardian, not me!”
He stared at me for a second, clenching down on his jaw.
“Mane, whatever,” he muttered, then turned back around and unpaused their game.
“Exactly.”
Instead of going further into the apartment, I plopped down on the loveseat, seated opposite of them, and pulled my phone from my jacket pocket.
“Where’s Moriah nem at?” I asked Monterrius about my sister.
“In their room sleep?” he responded with attitude.
My stomach twisted on knots as I walked over to the love seat and plopped down.
What the fuck did I do to deserve this?
I was good to Romelo. Too good.
My hands were shaking so badly and the breath I was holding I finally released, but it was no good.
He shouldn’t killed me. He was better off killing me.
How the fuck can I live without him? How can I go on when there was no existence without him?
It’s impossible. Romelo’s been the love of my life. I wouldn’t dare blink at another nigga.
None of it made sense.
I couldn’t stop my heart from racing. It was hammering in my chest. My mind was racing too. I didn’t want to live. There was no purpose in living a life without the love of my life. Romelo was my heart beat and there was no use for that either.