Chapter 7
There’s Still Love Under The Hurt
ADAI
Isat on the toilet, staring down at my French pedicure, with my phone in my hand, debating on whether I should call Pryce’s mother and tell her to come and get her son.
I was too overcome with emotion, and now that he was holding me hostage and forcing me to face him, I felt like I had to say things I wasn’t prepared to say just yet.
Silly me for actually thinking I could come back home and he’d give me at least forty-eight hours to get readjusted.
I stayed in the bathroom after peeing longer than I needed to just to breathe.
I needed a private space where I could hear my own thoughts and his presence wouldn’t overshadow them.
The words six months were now etched in my brain.
The number held weight, and I was almost positive that Pryce wouldn’t let me forget that his presence was a lot to take in.
He had a way of filling up the room without even speaking.
It was the thing I loved about him but sometimes hated depending on the situation.
This morning was a lot, and although I was pissed at some of the things that he said, I knew it came from a genuine place of hurt.
The way his face changed when he saw me standing in the doorway made me want to crawl under a rock.
I expected anger. Actually, I expected something past anger.
But the flash of hurt would forever be engraved in my memory.
There was a split second where it looked like something inside him dropped straight through his chest when his eyes landed on my stomach. The pain was evident, and I had put it there.
“Mommy was dead wrong,” I said with my hand on my belly.
At least the baby would give me some kind of grace because Pryce wasn’t letting up on my ass. Drawing my head back, I let out a deep sigh. I’d been in the bathroom longer than I intended. No sooner than I thought about getting up, I heard knocking at the door.
“Yes.”
“You good?” His voice came through steady.
“Yes,” I replied, matching his tone.
Silence followed for a second, and then he responded. “Aight. Come to the kitchen when you finish.”
“Come to the kitchen when you finish,” I mimicked quietly.
Once I heard him walking away, I pushed myself up off the toilet and washed my hands. Looking at myself in the mirror, I chuckled lightly.
“Let’s get ready for round three,” I said to my reflection.
Walking out into the hallway, I headed toward the kitchen. As I got closer, I slowed my steps a few feet away from the kitchen entryway when I heard him talking.
“I don’t like phone calls without prior clearance via text,” he said. “I believe I mentioned this to you before.”
My chest tightened. I didn’t have to rack my brain to figure out that there was another woman on the other end of the phone. His tone was controlled and familiar. He paused for a few seconds then continued.
“Right now is not a good time, Alexis. I’m dealing with some family stuff. I’ll hit you when my head is clear.”
I didn’t like that he was brave enough to take a call from a female in my house.
Hearing her name activated the territorial part of me.
And immediately, my mind went to imagining someone having access to him in ways that were once only accessible to me.
I started to storm into the kitchen and cuss his ass out, but before I made a step, I paused, remembering that he knew about Trill.
And I was sure what he’d seen in that one picture had created a hundred and one scenarios in his head of what I’d done with him. Even if it wasn’t true.
I hadn’t thought about how that moment outside of a restaurant in Houston would reach him all the way in New York.
Pryce wasn’t a social media dude, and if he did browse, he damn sure wasn’t on The Shade Room.
Trill really did too much this time. But for the sake of not having to replay what happened, I had to hold it down and play it cool.
I walked into the kitchen just as he was closing the refrigerator door.
In his hand was my butter dish and two slices of cheese.
He didn’t look surprised when he saw me standing there, nor did he put his phone away quickly like he’d been caught. He just looked… settled.
“Wassup?”
Before I realized I was doing it, my lip curled up. I put one hand on my hip, the other on my belly, and shifted my weight to one side. “If somebody looking for you,” I started, trying to keep my tone even, “you can go. I can go get ready as planned and go about my business with Key.”
So much for holding it down. I failed miserably at that as soon as my hand hit my hip. Completely ignoring me, he grabbed a loaf of bread from my pantry.
“I know you said you ain’t hungry, but I’m gonna feed my baby anyway. I’ma make you a grilled cheese sandwich, but I’ll settle for half.”
“You do know that I’m the one doing the chewing and not the baby, right?”
“Dai, lemme feed my child, aight?”
“You irritating,” I said, climbing up on one of the barstools at the island. “Did you hear what I said?” I spoke to his back, while he moved around my kitchen like it was his own –– the way he used to.
“About?”
“You leaving to go to whoever’s looking for you,” I repeated, salty.
“I’m not tied to nobody that need to know my whereabouts or what I have going on.”
He didn’t think about his response, which made me feel a little better. But that didn’t mean there wasn’t a somebody. It just meant that she didn’t hold a position yet. I’d be crazy to think he hadn’t moved on in some capacity. I mean, it had been six months.
Niggas were known to move on in twenty-four hours if they found a woman that fit the bill. Just giving it out. I was almost positive that he’d been out fucking some girl’s head up with that death stroke. I rolled my eyes, hating that even crossed my mind.
“Say what you gotta say, Dai,” he said with his back turned to me as he cooked.
“I don’t have anything to say. You grown.
I’m just letting you know that I don’t need to be watched.
I also don’t need no problems with your bitches while I’m pregnant.
But you know I’ve never been one to walk away from a problem if it’s brought to me.
” I wanted to make it clear that I would still beat a bitch ass if it came down to it.
He turned to me. “Bitches ever been a problem for you when it came to me, Adai?” he questioned.
“No. But we were together. Now, we’re not. I just wanna be clear.”
“You ain’t gotta be clear on that.”
His statement made me feel a way, likely because he hadn’t confirmed or denied that there was a bitch or bitches I needed to be aware of.
Feeling like I’d already showed my hand enough, I decided not to say anything else.
Unlocking my phone, I went to send a message to Kyiris when a text from her came through.
Big Key Not The Lil’ One: Lemme guess, Mr. Grinch said you can’t go, and he’s currently holding you hostage, but not against your will?
Me: Bitch, ain’t nobody scared of him. But come get me though.
Big Key Not The Lil’ One: And here I was about to give you your props for standing on business. Not you wanting me to help you escape. Wya, Scariana? His house?
Me: Lmao. No. Mine.
Big Key Not The Lil’ One: Okay. Once I leave this store, I’m headed your way. Try to be dressed… scratch that. We’ll figure it out when I get there. Be ready to jump that nigga if it go left. Matta fact, we gon’ need help. Call Eb. Tell her to come too.
Me: Okay. I’ma text her. And y’all gon’ have to fight. I’m in no condition to do so.
Big Key Not The Lil’ One: Okay, Scariana. Love don’t make you disabled, by the way, heffa.
Exiting our thread, I went to text Ebone when Pryce called my name.
“Dai.”
“Hmm?” I responded with my face still in my phone.
“Dead that shit with the rapper nigga.”
My head shot up. “What?”
“So long as you carrying my seed,” he said calmly, “it’s quiet on whatever y’all had going on. You wanna talk, call one of ya girls, ya parents, or me. You wanna chill, same thing. You wanna fuck, get acquainted witcha Rose or call me. But you and that nigga is a dead issue.”
“Pryce, no. That’s not your decision to make. And honestly, it’s not your business.” Even I didn’t believe that. But I had already said it, so I went with it.
I watched as he placed the sandwich on a small plate and walked over so that he was standing right next to me. Setting the plate down on the island, he turned the barstool so that we were face to face.
“Even you don’t believe that shit you just said.
You’ve always been my business.” He spoke with conviction, but his tone wasn’t harsh.
It was sure. Placing his hand on my belly, he continued.
“You’ll be my business for the next twenty-one years.
And so long as you don’t wanna co-parent from a visitation room at the Department of Corrections, you’ll take heed to what I said.
I’m tellin’ you now so there’s no confusion if a rapper comes up missing later. You want tea or water?”
I shouldn’t have been thinking about his hand sliding down my belly and into my shorts to my pussy, but it was exactly where my mind went.
While I should’ve been scared, I was turned on.
I knew this Pryce well. This wasn’t a threat.
It was a promise wrapped in a warning, one that I didn’t want to challenge.
“Chamomile tea,” I answered.
He nodded once and moved back to the pantry.
Again, my eyes followed his movements as he filled the kettle with water and placed it on the stove.
I picked up the sandwich I didn’t intend to eat and took a bite.
I wasn’t a fan of grilled cheese sandwiches until I met Pryce.
It was the only thing he knew how to make that didn’t require me looking over his shoulder at the stove.
He always had the right amount of cheese and made the bread a perfect golden brown on the first try.