CHAPTER 52
Monet
“Ah, yasssss. Grind deep inside this pussy.” Monet moaned.
Cairo did. As though he were trying to strike oil.
It was easier for Monet to let go of the guilt for Kingston after she’d seen the photos in his house in Atlanta. There was too much speculation around who’d done what, and there was the possibility of her getting caught up in his mess. Kingston not relocating her and the girls to the ATL was a blessing she hadn’t prayed for.
All of Cairo’s Mandingo-ness was inside of her. Cairo rolled his hips from her left butt cheek to her right. Repeating the slow motion, he pressed his thumbs into the arch of her back while holding on to her lower waist. Monet tilted her head back as far as she could. “Pull my hair.” She released a sound that emanated from her gut.
She wasn’t acting.
Cairo jerked her hips toward his pelvis, then held her there.
“That’s right, baby. Let it all out. I got you. And I’m never going to let you go,” Cairo stated.
Kingston never loved Monet more than she’d loved him. Perhaps it was because he wanted something different, but he hadn’t been man enough to say so. Regardless, after seeing the photos in Kingston’s house, Monet never wanted his dick inside of her pussy again.
Monet was willing to give Cairo more than her body. She was willing to give him her heart.
Collapsing onto her stomach, she rolled onto her back, bent her knees, reached for the remote, and turned up the volume on the television.
Taking the controller from her, Cairo lay on his side, facing Monet. “When are you going to let me meet your girls?” he asked.
A news report stated: “A human trafficking operation in Atlanta was broken up today by a SWAT team. More than twenty people were arrested. Over twenty victims rescued. Now the hardest part starts with reuniting sexual assault victims with their families. The person over the operation is reportedly cooperating with the police department. With the new law against human traffickers in the state of Georgia, all of the traffickers, if convicted, may spend the rest of their lives behind bars.”
Monet sat up in the bed, looked down at Cairo.
“I know you don’t think your brother, Kingston, is involved. Or do you?” Cairo questioned.
When the time was right, she’d tell him her truth. “Sorry, but I have to go,” Monet stated, teary-eyed.
“It’s like Groundhog Day. I wish you’d tell me exactly what’s going on so I can help. You don’t have to deal with this by yourself.” Cairo leaned toward the edge of the bed, wrapped his arm around her waist. “Come back to bed. Baby, please. There’s nothing you can do until they contact you.”
Shaking her head, Monet put on her shoes. Cairo plopped onto the mattress. He didn’t bother getting out of bed to stop Monet from doing what she was going to do, anyway.
“When you’re ready to talk, I’m willing to listen. Besides, I need to get some work done this morning. You have a nice day.”
Stepping into her romper, she straightened her ponytail best she could. “I’ll call you later.”
Cairo didn’t respond. Exiting his home, Monet called her mother from the car.
Trinity answered, then scolded, “I told you not to let my grandbabies go back to school. Just because you’ve moved on doesn’t mean they can deal with what’s happening with their father. I’m in transit to get the girls. I’ll meet you back at the house.”
An argument on her end wasn’t happening. Monet wasn’t officially notified that her husband was one of the victims. Kingston could be laid up with a . . . Monet couldn’t say the word in her mind.
Starting her engine, Monet said, “Thanks.”
An incoming call registered from Jordan Jackson. Monet told Trinity, “Bye, Mother. I’ll be at the house by the time you get there.”
Pressing the button on her steering wheel, she ended the conversation and started another. “Was Kingston one of the men?”
“Yes. I’m at the hospital, but I’m not his relative, so they won’t let me see him. You should’ve come to my office when—”
Monet interrupted, “I’m a grown woman. Kingston is grown, too—”
Jordan cut Monet off. “Don’t be that way. You should get here immediately. The doctors aren’t sure if he’s going to make it.”
Monet burst into tears. Cried out loud. Instead of going home, she drove to the airport. As she parked in the short-term lot, a call registered from Bianca.
“I apologize, Jordan. I’m on my way. I have to catch this call. Text me the information on where Kingston is.”
“That’s what I—”
Ending the call with Jordan, crying and shaking, Monet answered, “Hey,” then kept crying.
If Jordan had contacted her to give her information, she should’ve led with that instead of a tongue-lashing.
“Where are you?” Bianca asked.
Monet struggled to speak through sobs and sniffles. Eventually she replied, “At the airport. I have to go to Atlanta.”
“Not without me,” Bianca insisted. “Drop me a pin. Stay right where you are. I’m on my way.”
A call from Lilly registered. Monet sent the call directly to voice mail. Cairo called. Her mother called. An unidentifiable number from the 404 area code appeared numerous times. “Stop calling me!” Monet yelled.
Her phone wouldn’t stop ringing. Most of the numbers she didn’t recognize. Afraid someone might tell her Kingston was dead, she dropped a pin to Bianca, then ignored all of the incoming calls.
Unstrapping her seat belt, Monet curled in her seat into a fetal position.
A tap on her window startled her. It was her best friend, Bianca.
“Girl, open this door.” Bianca waited for her to get out of the car. They headed to the ticket counter and purchased two first-class seats on the next flight to Atlanta.
Sitting at the gate, Monet handed Bianca one of her earbuds. “Listen to the messages with me.”
Hearing the fourth message—“Hello, this is the nurse from Grady Hospital calling for Monet Royale. If this is Monet Royale’s number, please give us a call back at . . .”—Monet cried out loud.
She couldn’t imagine life without Kingston. She regretted not hearing what Jordan had to say while she was in Atlanta. All of those emotions were real, but Monet was clear. She didn’t feel remorse for having a relationship with Cairo. Irrespective of how she processed what’d happened, Kingston had brought many things upon himself by lying to her and disrespecting his family.
Settling into their seats, Monet asked her best friend, “What if he’s dead?”
Looking at Monet, Bianca replied, “That would be the easy part. The harder question for you is, what are you going to do if your husband is alive?”