Page 23 of Session 33

Was that really how people saw me? Depressed, sad, crazy? The words stung because deep down, I knew there was truth in them.

Not wanting to think about it anymore, I did what I usually did, shoving it into the back of my mind like an inconvenient memory.

I hit a U-turn on the empty streets, heading back to where I’d just come from, Angel’s building entry card still in my pocket. I drove through the McDonald’s drive-thru for coffee. I needed Angel sober.

I got all the way to Angel’s floor but couldn’t force myself to knock on her door. Was I really ready to prove Naomi wrong? Could I really change my whole lifestyle? Be a better man for Angel? The thought gnawed at me like a hungry pit bull.

I answered my own question. “No, you’re going to fuck it up,” I muttered to myself, running a hand over my face. I opened the door leading to the stairs and stepped inside. I pulled out my phone and called Jonas.

He answered on the first ring.

“You think I’m sad?” I asked him right out of the gate.

“Man, what? Are you calling me at two o’clock in the morning to ask me this?” Jonas groaned, sleep heavy in his voice.

“Man, just answer the question,” I insisted, rubbing my temples.

He yawned into the phone, then cleared his throat before answering. “Yes. You were never a joy-filled motherfucker in the first place. But after what happened to your parents, you were never the same. Naomi tried to tell you to get help, but your brain only holds onto information you want to hear. You think the strip club and throwing money at strippers is the same as a mental health facility.”

“Damn, that’s hard to hear.” I cleared my throat, my voice shaky.

“This is about Angel, huh?” Jonas’s tone softened.

In the background, I heard Naomi say, “What about my friend?”

Jonas mock-whispered, “She got my boy thinking about turning his life around.”

Naomi gave an exaggerated sigh. “Tell him I’m going to slap the shit out of him if he does her wrong.”

Jonas rebutted, “That ain’t none of your business.”

“It is because I brought him into her life,” Naomi raised her voice.

I hung up. The conversation was too much to handle. I ignored Jonas calling back. I stood looking down the staircase, coffee in one hand. I could walk away, and Angel would never know I was there. Sliding my phone into my pocket, I left the staircase, walked down seven doors, raised my fist, and knocked on Angel’s door.

I could be better for her.

Chapter Eighteen

The knock on my door jolted me upright. I’d been sprawled on the bed for the last hour, trying to sober up and make sense of what had happened tonight. My phone rang just as I stood; I knew it was nobody but Naomi. I was putting her on pause for a minute. I knew what she was trying to do by setting up the whole fiasco that had happened, but I didn’t like being embarrassed. She could have given me a warning or something. Tightening my towel around my body, I glanced through the peephole. My heart skipped a beat when I saw Cassius standing there.

Not considering my near-naked state, I swung the door open. His gaze swept over me, and a smile curled his lips, causing an involuntary step back from me. He stepped forward, closing the space between us.

“Cassius, why are you here?” I stammered, my voice barely steady.

He raised a cup of coffee and waved my key card at me. His silence was deafening, his eyes fixed on my exposed skin.

“I forgot to give you these,” he finally said after looking his fill. His voice was low as he stepped into my apartment, pushing me back. He shut the door behind him and moved closer, invading my personal space.

I fought the urge to retreat, planting my feet firmly. The old Angel would have, but I was determined to stand my ground.This was my space. His proximity allowed me to catch the scent of mint on his breath. He leaned in, his lips a breath away from mine.

Tilting my head back to avoid his kiss, I blurted, “Where is Keisha?”

His brow rose. “Are you really worried about Keisha?” Leaning in, he whispered, “Tell the truth,” in my ear before biting into my shoulder, his teeth sinking into my neck just enough to make me gasp.

“I—no, I'm not,” I managed to say, my voice trembling.

“Good,” he murmured, his tongue tracing the spot where his teeth had been, then trailing my cheek. His lips claimed mine. My arms, almost of their own volition, wrapped around his neck. His kisses moved from my lips to my chin, then trailed down my neck to the tops of my breasts. I shivered and pulled back when he started tugging at my towel.

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