Chapter 4 #2
Rio was too angry to be just. He wanted revenge. The smell of blood was his new desire. Allowing Cali to get away with her betrayal was an act he could never let happen.
“I gotta make a move. Be calm. We’ll get this shit figured out,” Noble assured, dapping him up.
Rio got out the car without saying another word. What could he say? Everyone’s opinion left him suspended in a state of confusion. Yet the feeling of wanting Cali and her beau dead hadn’t changed. Money wouldn’t fix this issue, blood only.
“I just wanted to check on you before I went to the warehouse.” Ivory peeked her head inside Irish’s room. “Are you going to be okay?”
Irish nodded, knowing she felt the complete opposite. Ivory had been such a godsend during this time of bereavement. If it hadn’t been for her duty to make sure orders were packed, Irish’s business would’ve went under.
“Alright, well, let me know if you need anything and I’ll bring it home.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and Mama called. She said she needs some money.”
Irish placed the covers over her head, not bothering to respond as Ivory closed the door.
Why did the pain have to be so great? Why did it pause her appetite, disrupt her sleep, and make her bones aches so badly?
Days had passed since Noble gave her the pink slip, and Irish couldn’t bear to pull herself out of bed.
Jovanis hadn’t even been around to help her through this time but Irish welcomed his absence.
She needed to wallow without him barking down her back.
Irish was unfortunately back in the bleak place she had been.
The door to loneliness was open and she had no choice but to walk through.
She never anticipated Jovanis costing her a love that literally filled her to the brim with passion.
All she needed was time. Noble should’ve understood that, considering the position she’d been in.
Irish’s eyes leaked again, wishing she could rewind the time and say no to this marriage.
Back then, she felt that was the only choice.
She had to survive and Jovanis was her means to survival.
She thought they could move on together and forget about their past. He assured her that it was behind him, yet his warning from the other day caused her heart to palpitate.
Regret pooled inside her chest, provoking nausea to settle.
She wanted a do over. Another chance to make a different decision but life wasn’t set up that way.
She would have to live with the decision that triggered endless amounts of regret.
2007
“You should’ve got the red one,” Jovanis said with his mouth full.
“No.” Irish shook her head, licking her frozen cup. “The blue one goes harder.”
They sat on the stoop, eating their frozen treat while people watching. It was their favorite thing to do.
“You think your mama gon’ let you come to Clemens with me?”
She shrugged. “I don't know. She wants me to go to this high school across town. I would have to catch two buses to get there.”
He scoffed as his bushy brows furrowed. “Bruh, you could just walk to school with me. Clemens right down the street.”
“Tell her that,” Irish quipped, smiling at him.
She couldn’t believe that a boy had become her best friend. Irish always thought she would be in a girl clique, looking fly and attracting all the boys in their projects. Instead, she had been wrapped around the tall, deep voice Jovanis who made her feel so special.
“I’ll tell her fat ass, too,” he joked.
Irish laughed, unable to resist the cruel joke about her mother. “You’re suck a je—”
“Irish!”
She turned her head and noticed her stepfather, Emanuel, calling her over.
“I’ll be back.”
“Yep.”
Irish got up and jogged over to the door. Emanuel stood on the concrete stair, looking down at her with his bulging eyes.
“Come in. I wanna talk to you.”
Silently, she walked inside with him behind her. Once he shut the door, he smiled at her.
“You wanna go get some food? How does Applebee’s sound?”
Her eyes glowed at the invitation. It was rare for Irish to go out to eat. The most she’d gotten was McDonald’s every now and then.
“Yeah.”
“Alright, go get pretty and meet me here in thirty minutes.”
Irish raced down the hall, bypassing her mother, who ambled with a laundry basket in her hand.
“Irish, what did I tell you about running in the house?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Irish entered her room and went to the closet.
She picked a yellow maxi dress that Jovanis had stolen for her.
Since Applebee’s was a big deal, she figured there was no better time to wear it than now.
Irish grabbed her jelly sandals and got dressed.
Her ginger hair was slicked back in a ponytail with baby hair.
Her mother had allowed her to start wearing mascara, so she put some on along with lip gloss.
After checking her appearance, she went to the living room where Emanuel was waiting.
“Well don't you look pretty.”
The fussy cries from her one-year-old sister, Ivory, became louder as she waddled into the room. Irish picked her up and hugged her tightly.
“Aww, Ivory, I’m gonna come back. I promise.”
Emanuel rubbed her wild coils. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
Irish put the baby down and followed Emanuel out of the house. His Cadillac was parked out front, so she hopped in the passenger seat, feeling so giddy that her cheeks ached.
“You ready to have some fun, Baby Girl?”
“Yes, I haven’t been out to eat in a long time.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “That’ll change soon. I got me a new job, so I’ll be making more money. We’re gonna start going out as a family more often. How does that sound?”
“I can’t wait.” She grinned.
“Before we go out to eat, I need to make a stop. Is that cool with you?”
“Sure.”
Irish watched the buildings pass by as Emanuel drove to the other side of town.
He pulled down what looked to be a deserted street and parked in front of a dilapidated building.
Bums hung out on the corner, looking for someone they could beg from.
It looked like a different town as Irish looked to Emanuel for the reason why they’d come.
Once he shut the engine off, he turned to her.
“I need you to be my wingman for a minute.”
“Wingman?” she repeated. “What’s that?”
“You know how Batman has Robin or Shrek has Donkey?”
She bobbed her head.
“Well, I need you to be that for me. Just follow my lead and smile really big for me. Can you do that, Irish?”
She agreed with a nod but was extremely confused by his request.
“If you do good, I’m going to buy you a new outfit.”
Irish would’ve been excited if she wasn’t so uneasy.
They both got out the car, and Emanuel grabbed her hand.
That was an act he never did, and it made Irish feel like something bad was on the horizon.
Her fourteen years of life had been filled with poverty, unexpected changes, and struggle.
Enduring all of that caused her to have severe anxiety at times.
At this time, she was filled with angst not knowing what to expect.
Emanuel walked inside the building. Right away, clouds of smoke billowed in the air.
Deep chatter filled the atmosphere as men hovered over tables with either chips or cards in their hands.
“What’s this?” she asked, looking around at all the chaos.
“It’s an underground casino. I’m trying to win us some money.” He turned and looked at her. “Don't you want a new outfit and to go out to eat more?”
“…Yeah,” she mumbled.
“A’ight, just follow my lead and be my pretty girl.”
What the hell?
Emanuel never referred to her as his pretty girl. To her, he had been her mother’s husband and Ivory’s father. Their relationship was decent. He’d ask her questions about surface topics but never did he dote on her.
Emanuel led her to a table that was green with writing on it. Irish had no clue what kind of game it was but most of the men surrounding it held chips in their hands. A woman dressed in all black approached Emanuel with a row of chips.
“You playing?” she asked him.
“Yeah, let me get ten.”
She passed him the chips then sashayed away. Irish stood like a fish out of water, not sure of what to do. Her gaze scanned the place and locked eyes with an older man. His hair was jet black, but his mustache was filled with salt and pepper strands.
“What you got over there, E?” He licked his lips.
“Oh, this is just my lil’ lady.” Emanuel grinned at Irish.
“Lil’ lady, huh? You sharing, nigga?”
Emanuel chuckled. “You ain't got enough for her.”
What the hell was he talking about?
Irish gripped Emanuel’s hand tighter while the older gentleman ogled her. She was uncomfortable as Emanuel leaned against the table. A man stood at the other end and pulled a set of dice toward him with a dice stick.
“You in, E?” the dealer asked.
Emanuel leaned against the table. “Yeah.”
The dealer slid the dice toward him and Emanuel picked them up. He then turned to Irish, wearing a wide grin.
“Baby Girl, why don't you do me the honors.” He held the dice in front of her face.
“Huh?” she asked, confused.
“Use those pretty lips and blow on these for me.”
Irish looked around at the eyes that were set on her. She was so uncomfortable, but Emanuel didn’t seem to pick up on the social cues of her uneasiness. Irish leaned toward Emanuel’s hand and blew a quick breath. He laughed before shaking his head.
“Baby Girl, you gon’ give me bad luck. Blow softer and a lil’ longer.”
Irish’s gaze descended a bit before she blew a gentle breath on the dice.
“Yeah, like that,” Emanuel murmured, gazing at her glossy lips.
“When you done with his, come blow on mine,” the creepy old man said to her.
Emanuel quickly pulled Irish closer to him before he threw the dice against the table. Snapping his fingers, he grinned at the outcome of an eleven.
“Hell yeah,” he grumbled.
When his hand rested against Irish’s hip, she tensed up. Finally sensing her discomfort, he leaned closer toward her ear.
“You're doing so good, Baby Girl. Keep distracting these niggas with your pretty ass.”
Irish avoided his eye contact as he continued to shoot the dice and collect chips.
For the duration of their visit to the illegal gambling house, Irish kept her head down.
Some of the men tried to get her attention but she couldn’t stand to look at them.
The hunger in their eyes scared her. They made her feel like prey and Emanuel didn’t come to her aid.
Instead, he continued putting her on display for the men to leer at her.
Irish was so thankful when Emanuel collected his chips and cashed them in. They left the gambling house after hours of her feeling like meat in a room filled with animals. As soon as they got inside the car, Emanuel turned to her.
“I’m so proud of you, Irish. You had those niggas in there slobbin’ at the mouth. You gon’ make me a lot of money, especially now that your body has filled out.”
“…I don't wanna go back there,” she confessed, wearing worried eyes.
“Aw, come on, Baby Girl.”
“Please don't call me that.”
Irish suddenly felt cheap. Like a whore instead of a fourteen-year-old teenager.
“Why not? You did good. Here, you earned this.”
He held a twenty-dollar bill out, as Irish looked at it. She didn’t know much but she felt taking the money would make her complicit. Almost as if Emanuel was buying her discomfort.
“You can go to the store and get so many snacks with this money. I’m still going to buy you an outfit, too. Take it.”
Irish swallowed hard and grabbed the bill. Somehow, it felt like she had sold herself. As if life would never be the same because she’d allowed Emanuel to use her to his advantage.
“Now, let’s go to Applebee’s.”
“I don’t wanna go anymore.”
Emanuel gaped. “Why not? Don’t you wanna get the sampler? It’s your favorite.”
Irish wouldn’t have been able to sit across from Emanuel and not gag.
Suddenly, he was the world’s dirtiest man to her.
Touching her inappropriately, making her blow on dice, and whispering affirmations in her ear caused her to feel so nasty.
His exploitation of Irish had changed her views of Emanuel.
What was once a man, who went to work and kept their bills up to date, was a predator who had taken advantage of her innocence.
“No, I wanna go home.” She folded her arms over her chest and looked out the window.
“Alright.” His voice was somber. “We’ll go back home.”
Irish was relieved to see them pulling back up in Havenwood. As soon as he placed the car in park, she hopped out and ran inside the house.
“How did it go?” Daisy asked, sitting on the couch.
Irish couldn’t fathom forming the words to reveal how Emanuel had used her. So, she ignored her mother’s question and ran to her room. Slamming the door, Irish fell face first into her bed and sobbed.