Page 9 of Obsessive Love

“Well, stop,” she replied. “It makes me think something is wrong, and I don’t do well with shit like that.”

“Xoey-”

“Now, to the reason I called,” she interrupted me. “You got Javien, but I want him. How much does he owe you?”

“His debt is paid,” I said, thinking about Fable.

“He’s dead?” she questioned.

“Nah, he’s in the trunk,” I answered. “He offered me something more important than money.”

“Like what?”

“My wife,” I stated. “If you want Javien, collect him from the airport in a few hours. It’s my gift to you.”

“My gift?” she laughed. “Pyrite, I don’t need any gifts.”

“Yes, you do,” I replied. “I’ll let you know when you can pick him up.” I hung up before she could say anything else and sighed.

“We’re here, Pyrite,” Albert announced.

I took the towel off my face, wincing at the pain, then blinked a few times to make my eyes focus. They still burned like hell, and my vision was blurry, but I was able to move with no issues. Chuckling, I got out of the car, stuffed my phone in my pocket, grabbed my bat from the floor, and made my way to Fable’s front door. The grey two-story house sat on a corner lot in a decent neighborhood. I took my phone from my pocket and dialed Nine’s number.

“Yeah?” he answered. His daughter’s laughter filled the line, and I waited a beat because I knew his son’s voice would echo through next. Just like I knew, Deuce came in demanding his sister from his pop, who more than likely handed her over. “Swear he bossy just like his damn mama.”

“You busy?” I asked, rather than pointing out that his wife was bossy, because he allowed her to be. Not many people told Cross Strong no; he was the first name on that list. “If so, I can just kick the door in.”

“I wouldn’t advise you to kick in shit,” he laughed.

“Why not?” I questioned as I looked around. I had enough money and influence to get out of a situation if need be. “You know something I don’t?”

“Nah,” he laughed. “I just needed a few seconds to lock in on your location.”

“Then unlock the door,” I said, then kissed my teeth. “Childish ass nigga.”

“No can do,” he replied. “Looks like she is old school and doesn’t have a security system.”

“The fuck?” I reared back, surprised, and shook my head. “Don’t she know it's crazy niggas out here that will break into her shit.” I stepped back, looked at her door, then kissed my teeth and kicked her shit in. “Shit is fucking dangerous as hell.” I stepped into the house and took a look around.

“Yeah, you never know what crazy folks are going to do,” he sarcastically replied. “She has to be more careful.”

“Exactly,” I replied. “Now get your unhelpful ass off my phone so I can deal with her shit.” I hung up the phone and looked around. Fable’s house was nice as fuck. Her living room was decorated in stark white with black and splashes of cream. The couch, loveseat, and one chair were oversized and looked comfortable as hell. She had a black rug in the middle of the floor with a creamed-colored glass table and end tables. Her curtains were a cream color, and she had large bay windows. In the corner of the room were huge elephant ear plants and a big TV sitting opposite the couch. The only thing missing was pictures. For some reason, the lack of pictures fucked with me.

I entered the dining room to find it decorated in the same color scheme as the living room. The dining table looked like it sat about thirty people, and in the middle sat a nice ass fish tank. I’d never seen anything like that and had to give it to Fable; it was dope. I made my way into the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks. The only way to describe it was a fucking chef’s kitchen with the way it was set up. It was huge, probably the size of the living room and dining room combined, and even that was an understatement.

This area was split into two parts: one side was the kitchen with a large island and double appliances, and the other side was another living room with an oversized couch, TV, and a birdcage in the corner. I checked out the kitchen first, lovingthat even though it was apparent that she spent time here because of the shoes in the corner and the recipes on the counters, the space wasn’t unkempt. I grabbed some water from the fridge, went to the living room, and looked around. Low key, I was looking for signs that a nigga either lived here or was around and saw neither. If it were, I’d have to kill his ass because Fable was mine.

“Bitch nigga,” one of the parrots said, and I chuckled. “Bitch nigga.”

“That must be your owner's favorite saying,” I chuckled as I tapped my bat against the cage. “Call me that shit again, and I’ll kill your ass.”

The two birds stared at me, then turned to each other and tilted their heads as if they were having a silent conversation before they turned to me. “Bitch nigga,” the same bird said.

I downed my water and then returned to the kitchen side. I pulled open a few drawers, looking for something to tie their asses up with, and chuckled when I found the twine. I returned to the bird cage, dropped my bat on the couch, and opened the cage. One of the birds came right to me, and I used the twine to wrap its ass up. The other bird flew from the cage and sat atop the fridge, watching me.

“You’re smarter than your buddy here,” I said as I tossed the bird into the air like a baseball and caught it. I grabbed my bat and went to look for Fable. I needed to see my wife; I craved her fucking attention.

The rest of Fable’s house was just as nice as the living room. Her bedroom was on the second floor, and the second I walked in, I knew this had to be her second favorite place in the house. Her room was decorated in dark purple and blue, with hints of dark green. Thoughts of us fucking in the king-sized bed that sat in the middle of the room flashed through my mind, and I shook my head. The sound of water running echoed through the room,so I took my time looking around. Her room was welcoming. I sat at the end of her bed, her bird still in my hand, and I rested my bat against the bed beside me.

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