Chapter 4 #2
Rio tried to keep himself from wincing at Rozalin’s appearance but found it difficult not to.
Her lip was split, and her eyelid was swollen.
A bruise embellished her cheek while a gash graced the side of her face.
Cali had done a number on her. She sat on the floor by her full-body mirror, dabbing her scars with cocoa butter.
“How you feel?” he asked, stretching his arms over his knees.
It had been three days since the altercation and this was his first time seeing her. He had been so wrapped up in the Jovanis’ situation that he hadn’t had time to check on her until now.
“How do you think I feel?” she fumed, glowering at him. “I feel like shit and the fact that you didn’t want me to get her arrested makes me even more upset.”
“I told you I don't deal with the police.”
“It wouldn’t have been you dealing with them. It would’ve been me.” She pointed at her chest. “I had to reschedule all my clients for the week because my face is fucked up.”
Rio didn’t disagree. Her face would take weeks to heal properly.
“How much you make a week?”
“Easily two to three thousand.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out some money. Counting it all, he passed it to her.
“Here, this is $1600. I’ll give you the rest tomorrow.”
Reluctantly, Rozalin grabbed the money. “Thanks, Rio. I really appreciate this.”
“No problem.”
Rio felt somewhat responsible for her injuries. He didn’t tell Cali to attack her but they had both made bad decisions that warranted Cali’s response.
Seeing her last night was different. Normally, Cali’s presence would annoy him because all he saw was her betrayal.
However, he didn’t spot her infidelity. He couldn’t even pinpoint the emotion he felt but it wasn’t the normal disdain he held for her.
Rio felt like he had done something wrong.
As if he had hurt Cali. Last night, he wished for them to make eye contact but when she purposely ignored him, Rio felt a way.
He refrained from confronting her about her attitude because it wasn’t the time.
“I should get my cousin to beat Cali’s ass for sneaking me.”
That statement snatched Rio’s attention. “Nah, don't do that.”
“Why not?” she hissed. “She deserves to get snuck just like me. Got my fucking eye swollen all because she can’t take that her nigga got snatched.”
“Aye, chill out.” Rio immediately caught an attitude. “You ain't snatch shit. Stop talking like you gamed me.”
She stood turning to him with her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying it like that but she’s mad because I’m with you and she’s not. She told me herself how much she misses you. I bet she would get back with you if you gave her the chance.”
That definitely wouldn’t happen now…
“I’m glad you brought that up.” He sat back, angling his head. “Why were you still doing her hair when you know me and you were fucking around?”
Rozalin suddenly went mute. She avoided his gaze as hers cast down to the ground.
“I wasn’t about to turn down no money.”
“Money?” he repeated with disgust. “So you money hungry like that? That’s what type of time you be on?”
Her piercing eyes cut into him. “No, but it would’ve been fucked up for me to deny her appointment, don't you think?”
“No, it wouldn’t have. It would’ve made you have a conscience. You doing her hair knowing you fucking with me didn’t make shit better. That was the wrong move, Rozalin.”
“Don't put this all on me. You played a part in this, too. You participated so you hold some of the responsibility just like me.”
Rio wanted to counter her claim but he couldn’t.
Maybe subconsciously, when he found out Rozalin was Cali’s hairstylist, he thought it would’ve been a perfect get-back move.
Fucking her stylist, who clearly had interest in him, would be the perfect revenge.
Rio had succeeded in pissing Cali off but he had to admit that it didn’t feel good.
“Look, when I divorced Cali, that meant I could move on. I don't owe her shit but she did think you and her were cool, Roz. You gotta admit that it looks bad.”
She shrugged. “Okay, maybe we were friendly but I don't owe Cali anything, especially after the way she attacked me.” Suddenly, she cocked her head, wearing narrowed eyes. “All this time, it has been fuck Cali. Now it sounds like you're defending her. Since when have you cared about her feelings?”
When I learned I hurt her…
Rio wanted to shake Cali’s words from his mind, but they haunted him like the memories of their marriage.
How hadn’t he been a good husband when he thought of her day and night?
Yes, he had put many things before her when it came to TLM but she knew the oath he’d taken when they first got married.
Nothing came before the organization. Not even wives and children.
“Listen, I don't care about her but I’m trying to be self-aware. If Cali had fucked my barber, I would feel some type of way.”
Rozalin pursed her lips. “I don't owe her anything except to press charges. I won’t feel bad for being with you, especially when my feelings are real.”
Rio gulped before standing. “I gotta go. I’ll holla at you later.”
“Wait,” she squeaked, hurrying over to him. “Are you going to come back?”
Rio didn’t want to lie to her but he was in no mood for her company tonight. He needed to be alone and get his mind right.
“I can’t say. You know my homie just got killed so shit is hectic right now.”
She nodded, taking a step back. “I understand. Well, call me.”
Tipping his head, Rio leaned in and kissed her forehead. Afterward, he left her apartment and headed to the spot so he could take his mind off Cali for the moment.
Irish didn’t know what sleep was anymore.
Her mind wouldn’t shut off. It replayed the memories of her and Jovanis on a never-ending loop.
Some recollections were endearing, inciting a smile on her face.
Some were more haunting, remembering how deep their bond had gotten.
Then, there were the memories that made her cry.
Like when Jovanis had first bought their house.
Before then, they lived in apartment buildings, sharing walls with neighbors that he constantly had to threaten.
When he brought Irish and Ivory to their new home, they cried because they finally had a home to call their own.
The morgue had called earlier, notifying her that he would be transferred to the funeral home on Thursday.
That spiked Irish’s anxiety. Her best friend being deceased was gut wrenching.
Irish didn’t know how to digest that. On top of that, she would have to go clean their house out since her townhome was under contract.
Turning on her back, she gazed up at the coffered ceiling, exhaling a deep breath. Noble had taken her to his home and offered for Ivory to come. She was in his guest room while they were tucked away in the master suite. Noble’s hand rested on her belly.
“You can’t sleep?” he asked.
She turned toward him. “You don't have to stay up with me. I know you're tired.”
Pulling her close to his warm frame, he kissed her cheek. Noble had been trying to be supportive during Irish’s grieving, and she appreciated him. Whenever she couldn’t sleep, he would stay up with her. Most times, he ended up falling asleep but she appreciated his efforts.
“I’m good as long as I’m with you. What you thinking about?”
She licked her dry lips. “I'm thinking about packing up the house and seeing Jovanis’ things. I’m scared of how I’ll react.”
“I’ll just hire a packing company to do it so you won’t. You don't need to take yourself through that.”
“Yeah, but I feel like I should do it.”
“I don't think so. You don't want to make your grief worse. It can set you back. I’ll just hire a packing company to do it.”
“Well, I at least need to be there. You know, show them where things should go, right?”
Noble sighed. “I guess… what else on your mind?”
“Jovanis’ being cremated. I wanted to honor his wishes but damn, burning his body feels so… I don't know… like not right.”
“His soul isn’t there anymore, Pumpkin. It’s just his corpse and if that’s what he wanted, then give it to him.”
Irish rolled her body to face him. “How can you support me like you do when you didn’t care for Jovanis? It has to be hard watching me cry over him.”
Caressing her exposed arm, he revealed, “I love you so I put my feelings aside to make sure you're good. You come first.”
“But you don't feel any type of way?”
“No, because I care more about how you're coping than what I feel about Jovanis. I didn’t fuck with him but part of that was my fault. I got with you knowing it would be a problem for him. So, I gotta bear some of the burden for our beef.”
Irish loved the way Noble put his thoughts together. He was so earnest when it came to how he viewed the problems in his life. His go-to was always to carry the blame. They didn’t make men like this anymore.
“What if I never get over this? What if you have to deal with me mourning his death for the rest of our lives?”
“I believe you will be able to cope. You're not going to be in this sad place forever. And don't think I’m excusing your pain because I know that shit hurt but time will make it easier to live with.”
Irish prayed he was right because she couldn’t bear enduring this level of pain for the rest of her days.
“Noble… do you know who killed Jovanis?”
The buzzing from the AC filled their conversation as she held her breath. Irish had avoided asking him that since the night of Jovanis’ murder. A part of her didn’t want to know but curiosity had bullied her into asking.
“No, I don't.”
“You promise?”
“I swear, I don't know who pulled that trigger but I’ma find out.” A light trace of menace was in his tone.
“I think it was Tuck,” she blurted out.
“Why you say that?”
“Because Jovanis was the person who had exposed him. He told me right before he got killed. I think Tuck sent someone at him because of it.”
Noble was silent, only rubbing her back. He kissed her lips then her forehead. “I need you to try and get some sleep. We got our first appointment tomorrow.”
That was it. He didn’t explore the topic of Tuck being the architect of Jovanis’ slaying. Irish figured she was on to something but he didn’t want to confirm. Maybe Noble knew more than he let on. She wasn’t certain even though she wanted to question him further.