from the bottom of the bed, threw it on, sat down, and braced myself for the worst. But at this juncture, the deed was already done, and there was no turning back.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Jaz? Didn’t I tell you I wanted to handle that situation myself?” His voice shook the walls.
“Yes, you did,” I mumbled.
“Then why the fuck are you sitting here telling me that you handled it? What? Just because I’m banged the fuck up, you think I’m pussy, Jaz?” He got up and came hopping on one leg at me. Before I could dodge out of the way, he had the front of my robe balled up in his hand.
I grabbed his wrist. “Faheem, get your hands off me.” I didn’t know what he was getting ready to do to me.
“Why, Jaz?” His eyes were dark, and his pupils were dilated.
“Get your hands off me.” I was petrified. “Baby, please. At least, hear me out.”
He turned me loose. “Why would you go behind my back and put yourself and our family in harm’s way like that? And after I told you not to? That was fuckin’ stupid!”
“How could you say it was stupid? It got done, didn’t it?”
“Who did you get to do it, Jaz?”
“That’s not important, Faheem. I can’t tell you that. It’s done.”
“Ain’t this some shit.” Faheem laughed.
It was a ha ha she told a joke laugh, coupled with an ain’t this some bullshit smirk, which pissed me off. “You can laugh all you want, because the deed is done, and I took care of it. You always want me to honor your thug, but you need to recognize and honor mines.”
He released that same annoying laugh again. “Jaz, I already told you, you ain’t no thug. You got someone else to do it. You know why? ’Cause you ain’t no killer.”
“Whatever. But like I already told you, the deed is done.” Yes, it was. And I felt liberated. I set my sight on a desired result and got it. It was exhilarating, and I was ready to do it again.
I got up and stormed out of our bedroom with my head held high. Hell, I was calling the shots, and I was feelin’ myself. He thinks he’s shittin’ bricks because of Steele; wait until I do Oni.
14
KYRA
It had been been exactly sixteen days, three hours, and seven minutes since I snuck up on Rick in Arizona, and I hadn’t received one call or text message. Nothing from him at all, and I was sick about it.
Tonight Trae was hosting a fight party, Chavez Jr. versus Martinez, and Tasha damn near dragged me out of my room and made me come join the festivities down in the basement. Trae must have been in an extra-good mood, because Trina was there with some dude named Jameer, along with the couple down the street, Elisa and Paul, the Sinclairs who came to our aid the night of the fire, and two other dudes that I didn’t know, all hanging out. I wasn’t up for it, so I found me a seat on top of a stool behind the bar in the corner. One of the dudes kept looking back at me, but I was sure he picked up on my body language, which I made sure screamed, Stay the fuck away.
In the middle of the first undercard fight, I started looking at the clock. There was no way I was going to sit down there for the next three to four hours. I didn’t know why Trae didn’t just take his ass to Vegas and watch it ringside like he can afford to. That way, I wouldn’t have had to get up, get dressed, and make believe that I was okay, because I wasn’t. That was until I looked back and noticed who was gliding down the basement stairs. It was none other than Rick. Oh, my God! I could have died and gone to heaven. I perked right up. I was so glad that Tasha made me throw on something decent and lose the funky sweats that I had been moping around in all week that I could have done a back flip.
“Look who’s here,” Tasha said, looking over at me. She got up to give Rick a hug.
“Nigga, you late!” I heard Trae say.
“It’s not like I still live down the street, lil’ bruh.”
So, Mr. Trae knew all along that Rick was coming and didn’t even tell me. I guessed that was