CHAPTER SEVEN #4
"That bitch ass nigga put his hands on you," Yatta said, his voice low and dangerous. "Hoe ass nigga gave you a concussion. The Doctor said you were lucky he ain't break your jaw."
My hand went to my face, and I felt the swelling, the tenderness.
My left eye was swollen damn near shut.
"Where he at?" I asked, my voice was hoarse.
"He dipped," Mya said, and the disgust in her voice was palpable. "Soon as he realized what he did, he got ghost. This bitch right here" she jerked her head toward Morgan, "is the one who called the ambulance."
I looked at Morgan, and the rage that had dulled while I was unconscious came roaring back.
"Get the fuck out," I said, my voice shaking.
"Yasani, I'm so sorry," Morgan started taking a step forward.
"GET THE FUCK OUT!" I screamed, and the monitors started beeping faster. "You SORRY? You fucked my nigga and all you got to say is you sorry?"
"It just happened; I didn't—"
"You didn't what? You didn’t mean to open your legs?
Or you didn't mean to betray the one person who had your back through everything?
" My voice cracked, and I hated that I was crying in front of her.
"I defended you when bitches talked shit about you!
I loaned you money when you broke! Hoe, I was there when your own mama kicked you the fuck out and you had nowhere else to go! And this how you do me?"
"Yasani—"
"Nah, fuck that." I sat up in bed, ignoring the way my head spun. "You wanna know the fucked up part? It wasn't even just tonight, was it? Y'all been fucking around behind my back for a minute. HOW LONG?"
Morgan's face crumbled with fresh tears spilling over. "A few months," she whispered.
"A few MONTHS?" I laughed, but it was bitter. "So, every time I called you crying about this nigga, every time I asked you for advice about our relationship, you was already fucking him? You sat in my face and lied to me for MONTHS?"
Yatta stepped forward, and I'd never seen him look so angry. "Yasani, stop talking to this bitch," he said quietly, "Mya, Escort this bitch out right now. Hoe gotta go."
"Wait, Yah-Yah, please—" Morgan tried one more time.
"Don't say my fucking name," I spat. "Don't ever say my name again. You dead to me. DEAD."
Mya grabbed Morgan's arm, yanking her toward the door. "You need to leave before I beat your ass in this hospital. And trust me, I don't give a fuck about getting locked up."
"I'm sorry," Morgan sobbed as Mya pushed her out the door. "I'm so sorry."
The door closed behind them, and the room fell silent except for the beeping of the monitors.
Yatta sat down on the edge of my bed, careful not to jostle me. His jaw was still clenched, a vein throbbing in his forehead. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold and controlled—which was somehow worse than if he'd been yelling.
"When I catch that nigga Rylo, I'ma kill him. He put his hands on you and left you on the floor unconscious." He looked at me, and his eyes were filled with rage. "Nah that shit ain’t flying. That hoe ass nigga gotta die for that."
"Yatta—"
"Don't." He held up a hand. "You my blood, my responsibility. And that nigga violated in the worst way. He cheated on you, and then he put his fucking hands on you?" Yatta shook his head. "Nah. shits a wrap for him."
Tears were streaming down my face now, and I couldn't stop them. Not because of Rylo, because honestly fuck Rylo. But I was crying because of how much the betrayal, the lies, and the secrets hurt.
"I loved him," I whispered, and my voice broke on the words. "I really did love him Yatta" My brother's face softened, just a little, and he pulled me into a careful hug,. "I know, Lil’ sis. But that nigga ain't deserve you, he never did."
Mya came back in, closing the door behind her. She climbed onto the other side of the bed, wrapping her arms around me from the other side.
"We got you," she said fiercely. "That nigga and that bitch dead to us. Both of them. You ain't never gotta worry about them muthafuckas again."
I nodded, even though I wasn't sure I believed it. because I knew how small Chicago could feel sometimes. How you could run into people even when you were trying your hardest to avoid them.
"Your face is fucked up," Mya chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "But you still fine as fuck. That nigga really tried it though."
"I busted his shit open first," I mumbled against Yatta’s chest.
"That's my lil’ sis." Yatta squeezed me tighter. "But real shit, Yasani. That nigga puttin’ his hands on you ain't never flying. I don't give a fuck what you did or what he thought you did. A man don't hit a woman."
"I know."
"Good. 'Cause if I ever catch you going back to him, I'ma beat yo’ ass myself." He said it like he was joking, but I could hear the seriousness underneath. "You worth more than that, you hear me?" I nodded, but I didn't trust my voice to speak.
We sat there like that for a minute, me in the middle, Ya’mya and Yatta on either side, holding me together while I fell apart. The beeping of the monitors was the only sound that could be heard.