“Oh, you went to Vegas? What y’all do, elope without telling anybody?”
She started laughing. “Yeah, right. You know your brother isn’t trying to elope with anybody but some money and the streets. Follow me, we are just chilling in the den, watching the game.”
It smelled like she was cooking enchiladas. I followed her through the house. The Spanish artwork and décor were dominant. The ceilings were high, and they matched the marble floors. That was kinda dope. I had never seen that before.
“Looks like you remodeled it since the last time I was here.”
“Yes, that was a long, long, long time ago, brother.”
“Yeah, you forget that you are always out of the country. What I’ma do? Come over to an empty house?”
She laughed. “Do you like it?” She spun around slowly on her tippy-toes.
“It’s nice. Real nice.”
“Kay, don’t just say that to be nice. I want the truth.” Her hands were on her hips as she glared at me.
“Seriously, I like it. After I talk to my brother, can I get the grand tour?”
“Definitely.” She beamed.
We walked down the stairs into the den. No marble there, only plush white carpet. “I guess you want me to strip now.”
“Ha ha ha. No, just lose the boots,” Mari told me. And she stood there until I took them off.
Kyron was sitting in a big leather recliner. “Uh-oh! Look who took the drive way out here. Something tells me this ain’t a social call. Can Mari get you something to eat? Something to drink?”
“Nah, I’m good.” I watched as Mari disappeared up the steps.
My brother didn’t even bother to get up and greet me. “Have a seat. What’s up?” He got straight to it.
“That’s what I’m trying to find out. You know you have an arrest warrant for rape?”
“Rape?” He started laughing. “I know you ain’t falling for that bullshit.”
“Not if Tasha wasn’t involved.”
“Here you go. Whose side are you on, bruh?”
“When it comes to family, I’m on the right side, and Tasha is family.”
“Man, get outta here with that bullshit. Tasha ain’t blood, nigga. You keep forgetting who I am, Kay. I got work to do. Nigga, I’m untouchable. You better talk to Don Carlos.”
“Does Don Carlos know that you are going around raping the wife of one of the family members?”
“What I do is my business. Not the Don’s and definitely not yours. And Trae is a traitor. He jumped ship, remember? Don Carlos ain’t tryna hear that shit.”
“Rape, Kyron. What about the rape?”
“I didn’t rape her.”
“What do you call it, then?”
“You got me fucked up, bruh.”
“What do you call slippin’ a date rape drug into somebody’s drink and fucking her?” I stood up, ready to punch my brother in the face.
“You can see yourself out. And as long as you stay faithful to that traitor-ass nigga, we ain’t got shit between us,” Kyron said, not even bothering to look up. “Whatever we had between us, we lost it a long time ago. From this day forward, you are dead to me.”
“Fine, nigga. Just know that I ain’t through dealing with you.”
“See yourself out.”
I put my boots back on and looked over at my brother. His eyes were glued to the game. I was not finished with him. I reached the top of the stairs, and Mari was standing there with tears in her eyes. Apparently, she hadn’t made it too far and was eavesdropping. I tried to force a smile. “I’m outta here, Ma. I’ll take that tour another time. I’ll let myself out.” She didn’t say a word to me. Instead, she headed for Kyron.
“Kyron, what the fuck is your brother talking about?”
“He ain’t talking about nothing,” I heard Kyron say.
I made it to the car already knowing what needed to be done.
TASHA
I was trying my damndest to block out my time with Kyron. But I couldn’t. I remembered every detail vividly up to him laying me across the bed. Afterward everything faded to black. After that, I recall lying in a hospital bed, looking up at Trae and a nurse who started explaining to me what was in a rape kit.
I felt guilt. Betrayal. More guilt. More guilt. More guilt. I remembered fucking Kyron and enjoying it. I could have stopped him, but I didn’t.
“Tasha.” Kyra was right up in my face. We were in the waiting area at the private jail called CCA, waiting to get called in to see Trae.
“What?”
“You’re doing it again,” Kyra said to me in a sing-songy