Chapter 13 Amethyst #2
“And if I tell you what you want, I’m dead anyway,” she laughed and shook her head. “I would rather take my chances with that phone ringing.
“I’ll protect you,” I said, nodding. “Grant won’t be able to touch you if you tell me what I need to know. I’ll get you and your kids out of here.”
“You can’t do that, Amethyst,” she said, sitting back and crossing her arms. The fact that she knew my name, yet no one else had mentioned it, told me everything I needed to know.
Shelly knew what the fuck was going on and was playing dumb.
She wasn’t done with Grant; she was making an effort at the moment.
There was no doubt in my mind that as soon as I left, she would call him and tell him everything.
“If you could, you wouldn’t be sitting here now trying to figure out what the fuck happened all those years ago.
” She sat forward and smiled sweetly. “You are a pawn in a fucking game just like I am. The only difference between us is you didn’t realize which brother was fucking you over. ”
“The only thing saving you right now is that baby growing in your stomach,” I said, grilling her.
“I may not like killing women, but for you I’d make an exception.
” My phone rang, and I smiled at the sight of Psalms’ name on the screen.
I swiped it to answer and put it on speaker so Shelly could hear us discuss her death.
“Hello, my favorite DeCorte.” Shelly’s eyes got big for a second at the mention of Psalms’ last name.
“Cross said you wanted me to come out of my garden to play,” Psalm said.
Her voice was soft as hell, which always made me laugh because no one ever expected her to be as unhinged as she was.
But shit, that would be said about all the DeCorte women.
They all looked innocent and gentle, and that was the furthest thing from the truth.
“She’s pregnant, I’m guessing six months or so, but I’m hoping you won’t care.”
“Nope, more fertilizer for my plants,” Psalms said. “I’ll get the name from Cross. Is there anything you want to know?”
“Everything,” I said as I stood.
“Okay,” Psalms said, then hung up.
I picked up my phone, put it in my pocket, then tucked my gun into the back of my pants.
Shelly looked scared as fuck, but I didn’t care.
I’d given her the chance to get the fuck away from Grant, tell me what I needed to know, and live her life in peace.
She chose to do otherwise, which is why she would have to deal with Psalms.
“She’s a DeCorte?” Shelly asked, and I nodded. “The one that was with-?”
“Nah,” I laughed because I knew where her mind was going, and I was going to dead that shit fast. I leaned over the table, resting my hands on it and bending so we were eye to eye.
“People have met the nice one, witnessed the calm one, and have heard hints of the unhinged one. You’re going to get the special honor of meeting the one that probably should stay retired. ”
“All because I won’t tell you why Grant set up that bitch Yale?”
“Nah,” I said, shaking my head. “All because you won’t tell me why Grant set up the love of my fucking life.” I stood to my full height and shrugged. “But no worries, because I already know Psalms will get all the answers I need.”
I left the restaurant, not caring that more than likely Shelly was going to run to Grant; truthfully, I wanted her to.
I wasn’t going to blindside Grant or any of the other Kilmores.
I wanted them to know who was coming after them.
I’d been played for years, and now I wanted all the fucking answers and my woman, too.
I sat in my car, waiting for Shelly to leave, and just like I knew she would, she rolled out a few minutes after me. I picked up my phone from my lap and called Yale.
“Hello?” she sleepily answered.
“You sleep?” I lifted my brow in surprise. Yale was typically up half the night working, so it was surprising to see her in bed this early.
“I dozed off,” she answered. “What’s up?”
“I’m on my way to get you,” I said as I watched Shelly pull out of the parking lot. “Get dressed, pack a bag, and be ready when I pull up.”
“Where are we going?” she questioned. The sound of covers being moved echoed in the phone, and the image of her lying in bed in just her panties and no bra flooded my mind, and my mouth watered.
I wanted Yale so fucking bad, and she hadn’t even done shit out of the ordinary. “And how long will we be gone?”
“I want to go hang out,” I said instead of answering her question. She wasn’t going back to that house ever fucking around with me.
“Where?”
“It doesn’t matter as long as I’m with you,” I said as I headed to her house. “You down for an adventure?”
“How long do I have to get ready?” she replied, and I smiled.
“I’m in the city, so it’ll take me like thirty minutes to get to you,” I answered.
“I’ll be ready,” she said, and I nodded even though she couldn’t see me.
“Bet, I’m on the way,” I said. “I’ll see you in a minute.”
“Okay.”
**
Four hours later, we were having the time of our lives in my kitchen.
At first, I wanted to go out, but then I thought about it and realized it would be safer for Yale if we were locked down.
My moving through the city after killing two people associated with the Franklins was dumb, and moving with Yale by my side was idiotic.
Putting her in a situation to get caught up in my shit wasn’t it.
“Ay man, have a drink with me,” I said, holding up the bottle of Hennessy. Yale shook her head, and I grunted. “Why not?”
“I don’t do dark liquor, and you know it,” she answered as she swayed to Dru Hill’s ‘I Love You’. “Plus, I’m trying to have a baby. Drinking isn’t ideal for my situation.”
“One drink ain’t gonna hurt you,” I said as I slid the bottle across the table she was sitting on.
If it were anyone else, I would’ve been pissed that they had their ass on my expensive ass glass table, but not Yale.
She could do whatever she wanted, and I’d accept it because I loved her.
Plus, she looked pretty as hell sitting there in a pair of ball shorts, a tank top, and a bonnet on her head.
She looked relaxed, like she was at home, and I loved that shit.
She looked at the bottle, then shook her head. “I’m not drinking,” she said, then pushed the bottle back to me.
“One drink won’t hurt,” I said, laughing.
“I’m good,” she said, not meeting my eyes, and I shrugged.
“I remember back in the day, all it took was one or two shots, and your ass was gone,” I laughed. “What happened to that girl?”
“She grew up, and her tolerance got lower,” Yale laughed. “Me and drinking didn’t always mesh well.”
“You get hot in the ass,” I said as I started fixing our plates. We’d ordered Chinese on the way here, and it showed up just as we pulled up. I wasn’t hungry, but neither of us had eaten all day. “I remember those college days all too well.”
“I don’t get hot in the ass,” she giggled, and I looked up to see her lying on the table. She was high as fuck.
“Sunshine, how many times did I get a call that you and Consonance ass was in the club, on the tables dancing and shit?” I asked with a laugh.
“Every damn time it happened, I would have to drag y’all out of there, and the first thing that came out of your mouth was you needed your pussy ate. ” I shook my head.
“Probably,” she laughed. “But it wasn’t my fault. Consonance has the tolerance of a damn sailor, and I was trying to keep up. Clear liquor makes me want to fight, and dark makes my body tingle, and if I mix them, Lord help the world because I’m horny and want to fight.”
“Man, what?” I stopped fixing our plates and stared at her.
Yale rolled over on her stomach and nodded. “It’s crazy, I know, but I’m serious. I didn’t realize it until after I got engaged to Grant. We were celebrating, and I started mixing my liquors. Grant hated it because I would want to have rough sex, and he isn’t into that.”
“That nigga be wanting to make love,” I chuckled and shook my head. “And you want to fuck. How does that work?”
“It doesn’t,” she answered with a shrug.
“Which would be the other problem. I wanted to fuck, like nasty, sweaty, rough, make me scream and beg type of sex, and he wanted to whisper into the night.” She rolled her eyes, and I had to adjust my dick in my shorts to keep her from seeing how hard my dick was.
I wanted to make love to my woman, but when she said fuck her, then as her nigga, that was your job.
Knock her head through the fucking headboard if you had to, but you never left your woman unsatisfied because you wanted to be pretty.
“Ay, Sunshine, have this type of conversation with Consonance, not me,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t give a fuck about you and that nigga’s sex life.”
“It was past tense, smart ass,” she said, and I shrugged. “Amethyst, stop acting like that because I don’t know how many times I’ve heard about your sex life over the years.”
“Not from me.” I looked up at her, surprised. I respected Yale too much to ever tell her about the bitches I was fucking. “I never told you about any of them.”
“You may not have, but they couldn’t wait to tell me how you fucked them,” she laughed and finally got off the table.
She took one last pull of her blunt, then ashed it and came into the kitchen to wash her hands.
“Every single one of them made sure I knew how you fucked on them.” She dried her hands with a napkin, threw it away, then patted my shoulder.
“It was like they were trying to find something to have on me that they experienced and I never had.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” I asked her, then handed her the plate I made for her. “I would’ve nipped that shit in the bud.”
“Why?” she laughed, then set her plate on the island. She stepped into my space and wrapped her arms around me. “You are a grown man; you having sex isn’t a foreign concept.”