| |
Never had my life been such a cluster fuck of fuckery. No matter how much I told myself this day would be peaceful with smooth sailing, drama always found a way to pull up and claim a seat in the VIP section of my life. Every time I swore nothing and no one would steal my peace for the day, I felt like my ancestors were like, “nah boo boo, you havin’ too much fun. Take this and saddown somewhere...” Every. Damn. Time.
“Calm down, love. Let me—”
“Fuck that, I got this. Tired of this bitch! Had you listened to me from jump, this bum ass bitch would not even be in my presence, so let me handle the shit you failed to handle because you men are always thinkin’ with the wrong head!” I spat, fury so electric across my flesh that the mere act of brushing past me would start a blaze.
“Raven.”
Command and control is what Max dealt anytime he spoke, and though he spoke barely above a whisper and just loud enough for my ears, the force of his words dealt a crushing blow to my being.
“You are entitled to whatever you’re feeling, but don’t you ever in your fucking life forget who I am. As I said, I will handle this. And you can show your remorse later. Nut up again and you will pay dearly. All. Night. Long.”
Not a single ion of his energy out of place, he halted our steps just shy of this tired ass bitch and whomever she’d dragged along for the show—yes, our steps because he was politely dragging me along, although it appeared as though we were gracefully moving arm in arm.
“Ms. Rowe, I assumed your termination sent a clear message that I should never be forced to lay eyes on you again. Exactly which part is proving rather troublesome to your comprehension?”
“Boy, you don’t control me anymore. I ain’t on your lil’ sadistic ass payroll anymo—”
“That’s right. You’re not on our payroll anymore, so you should have taken the hint and got the fuck on, but see. I know your type. Frumpy, thirsty, stale ass weave-wearing, no-ass having, always a day late and dollar short ass.”
“Rav—”
“I said I got this, my love.” I shut Max down and went right back in without missing a beat. “You really thought your shit was official enough to climb this?” I tugged on Max for effect, making sure he was clear on one thing: this was my moment, one that was long overdue, and I was about to shut this goofy ass opp down for good.
“You thought that rancid ass pussy was all you needed to snag one like this, huh? Peep this: pussy is all you’ll ever be. And pussy is the last thing this man is in shortage of. Out of respect for all these beautiful guests who came out for me, I’ll let you leave here breathing today, but on my mama...”
I now stood mere inches from the broad, so close she could probably taste the minty remnants of my breath.
“The next time I see you is gon’ be the last breath you take.”
This bitch had the nerve to chuckle, like I’d told the best joke she’d heard all year.
“Is that so? You might be right because I’m sure your man’s cup runneth over with pussy.”
She cut her eyes up at Max, a stark contrast to the look of unease on her companion’s face. Home girl looked as though she wanted to crawl into the designer clutch currently tucked under her arm and hide.
“I’m curious though, whose pussy is best, Max? Your fiancé’s...or your lovely wife’s? ‘Cause I hear that once you birth a baby for a man, the pussy is forever indebted to him. Is that true, Havana?”
This bitch had a hundred-watt smirk now, cheesing like she’d just hit the lottery. Meanwhile, the woman I now knew as Havana looked like she’d seen a ghost, Max’s grip tensed so tightly, he damn near cut off the circulation in my forearm.
I’d barely blinked and at next glance, Max’s security flanked this Havana chick and Amy’s demented ass. The guy closest to Amy leaned in just shy of an inch and, as I watched his lips move, all the color drained from Amy’s face right before she stumbled backward, now retreating so quickly she was a good four steps ahead of security.
“Not ideal, but we’re all grown here,” Max began, releasing his grip just enough to allow a pivot of his frame and view. He now stood facing me and I searched his eyes, begging for a sign that this was all some foreign shit that didn’t involve or concern us.
“Raven, I’d like you to meet Havana. The mother of my precious princess, whom you’ve already met.”
Havana’s eyes held an uneasy sadness as she fixed her gaze on Max, almost as though she was pleading for permission to even look my way.
“Havana...Raven is the young lady we spoke about...and I’m proud to now be able to call her my fiancée.”
What in the entire fuck?!
Havana was stoic, but the wave of anxiety that held her captive was very much visible in her gaze, in each shaky breath she drew.
“I-I swear I didn’t know, Max...I’m s-sorry...you know I’d n-never...I’m sorry...”
Her feet and words were in sync, both fumbling and stumbling together as she made a graceful retreat, one calculated step at a time. Tossing one last look over her shoulder, she held Max’s gaze for a brief second before making her exit. In that brief second, Max’s energy also shifted but just that quick, he slipped back into his steely reserve.
Surprisingly, the entire exchange, which left me on the verge of emptying the eager contents of my stomach, only slightly caused a scene. Most folks present were so deeply enthralled in social banter that they were none the wiser. The few that did take notice only did so at the arrival of the impeccably tailored men in black that all present knew to be Max’s security team.
I just couldn’t catch a break. One gut punch after another, I just could not get over this damn hurdle that threatened the life I worked hard for. And with each labored breath I now drew, I realized it all led back to the one thing I couldn’t see my future without: Max.
“Is she...” I choked on the words as they slithered back down to my trachea, refusing to accept the invitation of my tongue.
I swung my gaze about the room, less to observe and more so in an effort to ward off the tears that I’d been holding back this entire time, and damn if my heart didn’t find another reason to stop.
Prancing her statuesque messiness in our direction was Zykiyah, dressed to the nines in a dress I recalled her ogling over one of the few times we hung out in the past few years. Somewhere in my gut, I figured she’d find a way to pop up tonight because she’d never been the type to let someone get over on her. Zee was a tit for tat type of bitch, so I knew to expect the wrath of her get-back soon. I just didn’t think the shit would pop up now, and on what had shaped up to be one of the worst nights of my life.
“Well, look at y’all. America’s next Mr. and Mrs. Bougie ass Hood Lovin’. Y’all cute or whatever, got it real Caucasian up in this bitch.” Every word she spoke oozed scorn, and true to her petty ass form, Zee enjoyed every second of the distress I’m sure was etched on my face.
Distress not because she was here, but because she was arm in arm with him. Your old work is not supposed to ever come face to face with your new thang. Ever in life. That was pretty much law. If I made it out of this shit alive, I was going to kill Zee. Literally. Like rip her limb from limb with the same hands we’d used to finesse marks and get money back in the day.
Now eye to eye with a dreadful piece of my past while flanked by my present, I literally felt the urge to shit a brick as I now had a new fear: would I even live long enough to become somebody’s wife?