Chapter 18 #4
This lady had bigger fish to fry. She was bloody, her hair was matted, she had throw up smeared all over her face, and she was locked in this bitch, detoxing from drugs.
Right now, Shio was so far out of reach that even if she had arms the length of a giraffe’s neck, she wouldn’t be able to touch him.
Yet, I nodded.
She smiled. “Thank you, hell seeker.”
I winked, washed my hands, and then walked around Bella, who was entering with a gown and underwear. Pearla was talking to Solana gently, so I closed the door behind me to give them some privacy.
Mahzeyah was bent over, her backside out, picking up clothes from the floor.
Leaning against the door, I watched as she snatched up piece after piece and tossed them into the hamper.
Today was a good day to wash Solana’s clothes since the hamper would be full.
I’d slid so many clothes to her through the bottom door slot that had miraculously appeared.
It seemed as though Shio didn’t care if they were washed—he’d just buy more and have them delivered for her.
“You so fucking weird, dude.” Mahzeyah snatched the last bit of trash up and then grabbed the vacuum.
“You so fuckin’ fine, dude. And you ain’t gotta do that. My cousin sending somebody to clean the floor.”
Rolling her eyes, she grabbed the cord, plugged it into the nearest socket, and poured carpet freshener onto the floor, which instantly covered the vomit smell with a fresh, linen scent.
“I’m not doing anything now that Glee got Baby Leader. I can clean it. I don’t mind.”
The vacuum came to life with a low hum. It was another expensive-ass gadget Jisei owned. Mahzeyah ran the vacuum back and forth while I watched her. When her eyes met mine, she didn’t frown, but her face showed a look of disapproval.
“Y’all just going to keep her locked in here?”
“That ain’t my business to tell, ZeyZey.”
“She’s in pain, Italian. And while these physical withdrawal symptoms subside after a few weeks, she’s going to have a long road ahead due to the psychological cravings, plus the depression. That could take months, or even longer sometimes.”
“How you know?”
“I plan on taking up psychology in college, but my emphasis is going to be on addiction and recovery. I want to open my own centers, maybe.”
“Damn… I ain’t know that.”
“Well, now you do.”
“Maybe I’ll get high on my own supply so I can get admitted to yo’ center.”
She ran the vacuum in the direction of my feet, and I jumped back. “Man, watchout.”
“Stop playing. This is serious, Italian. She really needs professional help.”
“But can she beat it on her own?”
All of the vomit was gone, but she kept the vacuum on, more than likely trying to mask our conversation. With her hand poised on her hip, she looked at the wall past me as if she were thinking.
“She can… It will be hard, but she can. Everything is horrible the first few weeks, but then it gets better. She’ll still fight the addiction for many months or years after.
Some people fight it for the rest of their lives.
If she gets clean, she will still be an addict. That’s important to remember.”
“When.”
“Hunh?” she asked, looking up from the somewhat clean floor. Whoever Shio was sending needed a carpet cleaner to really get the smell up.
“When she gets clean. Solana gonna beat this shit, ZeyZey. And you gone be my date to their wedding?”
She rolled her eyes again, making me laugh out loud.
“Nawl, Flexer gonna be my date. Make all y’all have to go through security clearance at ya own people’s shit.” She smirked as I chuckled at her thinking Flexer had some type of rank over my cousins.
“That nigga ain’t bigger than our program. We’ll make that rapping-ass nigga come perform for free at errbody weddings. On foe ’nem!”
She laughed like shit was sweet. I’ll do that nigga so dirty and have Gal and ’nem upload that shit on YouTube. Bitch-ass nigga will go viral for getting his chain, his money, and his girl took.
My phone vibrated on the bed behind her.
She must’ve picked it up while she was in here being Mrs. Clean.
Now she’d unlocked a whole other fetish: a cheerleader acting as a maid.
I was going to have to have one of my cougar hoes act this shit out for me.
The young ones weren’t ready for the role-playing just yet.
I’d played eviction with one last week where I was the landlord, and she was the tenant.
She sucked the skin off my dick so I wouldn’t take her to “court.” I thought role play was kinky until I was able to act out some crazy-ass shit while ending the scene with some of the best nuts of my life.
VraVra with hearts displayed across the phone screen as it continued to ring. Mahzeyah turned off the vacuum and glanced at me with an evil glare. Before I could grab my phone, she snatched it and answered it.
“Who the fuck is this?” She was rolling her neck, popping her lips, and shoving the vacuum away from her as if she was still cleaning with it.
I was smiling ear to ear watching the whole fiasco.
“VraVra, don’t answer her, love.”
“Love? Do this bitch know you be in here flirting with me even though I don’t want yo’ ass? My nigga famous, and his money real long in real life. Hunh?” She drew her head back.
“Little hoe, don’t worry about who this—”
Mahzeyah’s face fell. She then looked like she’d seen a ghost as I started cracking the fuck up while hearing my VraVra go off.
“I am so sorry, ma’am. He be calling me ZeyZey, and I thought… Oh my God. My daddy raised me better than this—my mama too. I am so sorry, ma’am. You have a good day.”
Mahzeyah tossed me my phone and snatched the vacuum up, running out of the room. I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt.
VraVra, aka Ginevra, was my Afro-Italian mother.
That’s what Mahzeyah’s smart mouth ass got. Now she was about to walk around looking sad all day.
“Hey, Mommy.” I was still laughing as I attempted to calm down so I could talk with my mother.
“Italiano? Who was that?”
“That’s just my baby mama.”
Between ZeyZey and Mexi-Mami, I could feel the gray hairs growing already.