Page 22 of Our Mother's Sons

“As a heart attack,” he stated without humor.

Swallowing hard, I peered at Dutton, who still had his orbs on me while his woman talked a mile a minute. They were sitting on the same side of the table, and when her hands rested on her small pudge, I nodded.

“Ima need verbal confirmation love,” he urged.

“Ye..yes.”

He hopped up and in that moment, not looking for anything, talk went out the window. I had stars in my eyes as he tossed his hood on his head and swaggered over to Dutton. The limp in his walk I knew came from not only the gun he was clutching but the dick he was toting around. I needed that shit sober but with the way my girl was hurting for days after, it was fact that the dick was horse.

Seeing him near Dutton, my senses returned, and I nearly broke my leg trying to get out of the booth. I stomped my toe and prayed I hadn’t cracked the nail as I caught up with him. By the time I reached him, he had his gun drawn and pressed against Dutton’s temple.

“Oh my-”

“Shut the fuck up Katy Perry. If you make a sound ima put your ass down like the stray poodle you look like along with this nigga.”

Grabbing his arm, my eyes were just as ballooned as Dutton’s. Now, being up close to his jewelry, it looked even more ridiculous than it did from a distance. Thankfully, the restaurant was dark, so all the patrons didn’t seem to know what we had going on, especially since Dutton’s table faced a wall.

“Man what the fuck is going on? I don’t want that bitch you can have her,” Dutton stated in a shaky voice. His hands were up, and his date was shaking in her boots. Dutton smelled of the same Prada cologne that I’d given him a month after we dated. When he wore it, I told him I didn’t like it, even though it smelled amazing at the perfume counter. It didn’t pair well with his natural aroma, but he continued to wear it.

“Nigga watch that bitch word and do it look like I need permission for something that’s already mine?”

He pressed the gun into Dutton’s dome and by now my pussy was drenched and my panties sticking to my flesh in a gooey mess from them being soaked.

“Where you want me to shoot him bae? I’m thinking headshot. You want me to shoot him in the heart since he broke yours?”

Dutton looked at me with pleading eyes, and his woman was silently crying so hard that snot dripped from her nose. She looked a damn mess.

“You… you won’t kill me in a restaurant full of people.”

“You calling my bluff? I will and I am. Do it look like muhfuckas paying us any attention? They busy sucking on lambchop bones.”

Applying pressure to his arm, he looked down at me.

“Head or chest,Fine Shyt?”

As tempted as I was to end Dutton’s life, I couldn’t do it. For one, the damage with us was done, and there was no way the hole in my heart would be repaired. I let him play me, and I had to eat that.

“Neither. Just take me away from here. Please,” I begged.

He searched my eyes for a while before grunting. Raising the gun, he brought it down on Dutton’s head who went down like a sack of potatoes landing on his devastated boo.

“Bitch ass nigga.”

Tucking his gun, he grabbed my hand and led me to our table, where he grabbed the bags while I snatched up my belongings. Then, we were out of the restaurant. My eyes had to adjust since it was still very much daylight outside. I hadn’t realized I was being helped into his car until I melted into the buttery leather seats and the loud engine shook me from my thoughts.

“Wait, my car.”

With his hood slightly hanging off his head, he shifted his eyes from the road to me.Damn he fine.“My brother not gone have it towed. You good.”

The further we drove away from Jonah’s, the better I felt. Even though it was daytime, the way his dashboard lit up, resembling a spaceship, had me wishing I’d had something this nice. With the way he was zipping through traffic, this car was way too fast for me.And would never be in my fucking budget.It didn’t take me long to realize we were going back to his house. I let my window down, sticking my head out of it, watching the palm trees blur. The sight of the beach brought me back down to normal. Now, I could focus on the feeling the alcohol had bestowed upon me and put Dutton to the back of my mind.

“I would let the top down but, I don’t have a rubber band in here and ain’t up for my hair flying in my fucking face,” his deep tenor voiced.

Letting my window back up because the heat was becoming too much, I pushed my back into the seat.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

---