Chapter Eleven #2
“And what does that have to do with you?” Cali pursed her lips.
“Girl, she cannot get over that man,” Clarice instigated. “I don't blame her though ‘cause your baby daddy is fine than a mothafucka.”
“Oooh wee,” Quisha shuddered. “I’d be stuck on a nigga that sexy, too.”
“Okay!” Clarice high-fived her. “And if it’s true that he’s fucking around with Irish, then that’s a good look. ‘Cause sis is a bad-ass bitch.”
Shay snarled, making Cali chuckle under her breath. Laughing at another woman’s pain was insensitive, considering how down she’d been, but she didn’t like her coming for her friend.
“Fuck all y’all!” Shay turned her back toward them as Clarice cracked up.
“How you been, boo?” Rozalin asked her quietly, taking off her scarf. “I heard you and Rio broke up.”
Why did she have to bring up the source for all of her woes? Didn’t Rozalin know that she slept, breathed, and ate Rio? Day in and day out, he sat on her mind, reminding her of the times she would never get back.
“Yeah,” was all she could muster up.
“What happened?”
Cali exhaled. “It’s a lot but I messed up. I’m not going into detail but yeah, it was all on me.”
“Damn, I hate to hear that.” Rozalin greased her scalp to prepare for a relaxer. “Y’all were so cute together.”
“Was is the keyword.” Cali chuckled. “I don't think we’ll ever get back there.”
“You sure? You never know what y’all can overcome.”
Cali thought that once upon a time, but she had gone too far and crossed boundaries that Rio would never let her forget.
She tested every part of his manhood because of her selfish desires.
One thing she learned about men was that they always valued themselves above anything.
Cheating was a no for them because they had too much self-respect.
Rio was full of pride and all the macho shit that made a man.
He was a man’s man; a leader that would never allow someone like her to disrespect him.
“Girl ain't no coming back from what happened,” she confessed, carefully choosing her words. “It’s done.”
“So, that means there’s no chance for reconciliation?”
Cali looked at her through the mirror. “None at all.”
Rozalin nodded. “Okay, well, I’m sure you’ll find someone better. God didn’t stop making men after he made Rio. You’ll be alright.”
“No, he didn’t stop making men, but he never made another one like Rio…
” She paused for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts.
“Rio is rare. He took really good care of me. He made sure all of my needs and wants were met. I didn’t honor him like I should've, and I didn’t give him the loyalty that he gave me.
I understand why we had to come to an end.
I just hope the next woman he gets with don't have to be punished for my mistakes.”
Imagining Rio with another woman made her chest ache with regret. Still, Cali wanted Rio to be happy.
“That’s big of you, Cali. I meant it when I said you’ll be fine. I’m about to get this pixie back on track and make sure of it.” Rozalin winked.
Despite her resistance, Cali was glad to be back in her chair. Nobody slayed a pixie cut like Rozalin, which was why she had been her stylist for the last seven years.
“Yeah, make me look human again.”
“Don't worry, boo. I got you.”
Ivory: Where u at?
Irish looked at the message before her regard fell on the inspiring view before her.
In a matter of twenty-four hours, she’d gone from missing Noble, to fucking Noble, to being in St. Lucia with Noble.
Jade Mountain was their exact location. Irish had never seen anything more remarkable in her life.
They were in their sanctuary aka their room with views of the Caribbean Sea.
The mountains were off in the distance while the waves in the ocean caressed her ears.
Without a fourth wall, their sanctuary was open to the panoramic views of the island.
Irish: I took a quick trip. I’ll be back soon. Don't tell Van.
Swiftly, she powered her phone off just as Noble walked over to her.
He was a dream that she wouldn’t mind submerging her subconscious in if he promised to stay by her side.
His milk chocolate shell glistened with sweat.
His fine artwork was displayed over his hills of muscles.
He peered at her with eyes that penetrated her heart then licked his lips.
Irish felt sick in the head at times. How could she love a man so much that she’d risk her friendship of almost twenty years?
Never experiencing this, for the first time in her thirty-two years, Irish didn’t care.
“Here, I made you a drink.” He passed her a glass.
“Thank you.” She smiled. “You're too sweet. I still can’t believe you brought me here. How much does this place cost a night?”
He frowned, immediately causing her to laugh.
“What?” She feigned innocence.
“Don't ever ask me how much something cost. Just know that I got it.”
Noble indeed did have it. They had private concierge along with a personal chef.
Again, Irish was blown away because she hadn’t experienced things like this.
Her and Van would do getaway trips to Miami and sometimes New York.
She couldn’t believe how much she had been missing out on life.
Not once had she been overseas, visited different countries, or tried cultural cuisines.
She hadn’t explored much in life and Irish painfully felt so behind.
Standing on her tippy toes, she kissed his lips. Being here with Noble was sinfully dreamy.
“Can I talk to you?”
He nodded and ushered her over to the sitting area that was located by The Galaxy infinity pool. Noble sat, legs cocked open while lifting his glass to his lips. Irish turned toward him, inhaling a deep breath.
“Can I trust you?” she genuinely asked.
Noble bobbed his head while grabbing her hand. “You can trust me with anything, Pumpkin. I hope I’ve shown you that.”
“I know I just…” Her eyes descended to her lap. “There’s a lot I want to reveal but it scares me because I’ve held a lot in over the years.”
Noble took the glass from her hand and sat both of them on the coffee table. Pulling her close, she rested her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his ink-filled arms around her waist.
“Whatever you want to tell me you can. If there’s something you don't, then keep it to yourself until you're ready.”
“That’s the thing”—she faced him, admiring his intense eyes—“I want to tell you everything. I want you to know what I’ve been through. I need you to understand me, completely.”
They had started wrong, but Irish was determined to bring some normalcy into their relationship.
Noble needed a complete handbook on who she was.
She wanted him to connect puzzle pieces that may have been missing.
She didn’t only want Jovanis to know who she was.
Irish needed Noble to be aware of every part of her being.
“Okay, then tell me what’s up.”
Again, she suspired deeply and licked her peachy lips. “Do you remember when we broke up and you asked me what Jovanis had on me?”
He nodded, peering at her with so much intensity it prompted her heart rate to increase.
“Well, he doesn’t necessarily have anything over me but… he did something for me, and I’ve felt indebted to him over the years.”
Noble rubbed her exposed arm. “What did he do?”
Irish had never told a soul about this part of her and Jovanis’ life. It was always between them. A tiny part of her felt as if she was betraying Jovanis but she didn’t want to leave Noble in the dark. He was an important person in her life, and she wanted to share the ugly part of her.
“Well, it started after my stepfather groomed me…”
2007
Irish had taken two buses to get back to Havenwood.
The sun had set, casting a red and orange hue over the city.
Her heart had to be beating over one hundred beats per minute.
Angst wasn’t the appropriate word to describe her current state.
Irish was in shambles, looking over her shoulder every other minute, hoping she didn’t see Emanuel’s Cadillac in the distance.
She needed someone to talk to. Someone who could save her from the inevitable. Going to Daisy was a bust and since she didn’t have any other family, Irish walked to Jovanis’ apartment. When she approached his unit, she noticed his two uncles, Mel and Fish, sitting outside with two other men.
“What’s up, Big Red?” Fish greeted her with his personal nickname.
Forcing a smile, she said, “Hey, Uncle Fish and Uncle Mel.”
“You looking for Van big head ass?” Mel asked.
She nodded. “Yes, is he here?”
Please be here…
“Yeah, I think he’s in there. Gon’ head.” Mel tossed his thumb over his shoulder.
She entered the house, smelling the permanent scent of marijuana. It was so embedded in the interior that she saw the smoke stains on the walls. She traveled through the apartment and went upstairs to where Jovanis’ room was. Knocking twice, she heard rumbling and entered.
“Damn, Irish,” he complained, hiding the bundles of money with his pillow. “I ain't tell you to come in here.”
Gasping, she asked, “Where did you get that from?”
“Close the fucking door.”
Right away, she did as he demanded and twisted the lock. “Van, where you get that from?”
“I hit a lick.” He beamed, removing the pillow. “I caught this nigga slippin’ coming out of a trap house.”
“Wow,” she marveled at the sight of all the cash on his bed. Irish had never seen money of that magnitude. “What are you going to do with it?”
“Shit, save it.” He shrugged. “I might even get me a Donk,” he gloated, referring to an ol’ school Chevy.
Jovanis’ uncles had taught him everything he wasn’t supposed to know. He fought, robbed people, and schemed under their guidance.
“Don't tell nobody you seen this money either,” he warned. “As soon as niggas find out I hit a lick, they think they ‘bout to get a cut when they not.”
“Who? Your uncles?”