Page 39 of He Thugged Me First

“How many times did you say expect? You just?—”

I chuckled. “Dead ass hear me, G.”

“I hear you. I just always wanna have this feeling.” She low key pouted.

I could tell she was serious, and this meant a lot to her. “I got you, Gayze.” I leaned up and kissed her. “I’m not perfect. I’mma make mistakes, but I’ll never set out to intentionally hurt you.”

Once we pulled back, she just looked at me. Nothing about her had changed. She still demanded all that she deserved, and her eyes still told all that she was thinking.

“You gotta work tomorrow?” I asked.

“Not technically, but you know how black folks are. There’s always that secret ploy to call off.” She shook her head.

“But if you ’ont get that call, you with me, right?”

She cut her eyes at me. “The last time you asked me that, I ended up with a bruise on my stomach from paintballing.”

I laughed. “Get off that. I’m tryna spend some time with you.”

She nodded. “You got me as long as my second phone doesn’t ring.” She winked and nodded toward the two phones sitting on the counter in front of us.”

“Bet.” I picked her up and carried her toward my bedroom.

“I thoughtwe were spending time at your house?” she asked as I sat across from her in the breakfast joint that she wanted to eat from.

“I mean, unless you were making breakfast, but I’m tryna make this about you.” I winked.

She smiled widely.

I liked to see her smile. It gave me a giddy ass feeling that I wasn’t familiar with.

“Yo, you pretty as?—”

“Son.” I was interrupted by a voice I didn’t recognize, but only one nigga had the nerve to ever call me that shit.

When I glanced up, I was looking in the eyes of a dead man. This bitch ass nigga was, indeed, Mel’s pops, but he wasn’t shit to Mecca or I. He was one of my mother’s Johns who she raised us around. She always told us to call him uncle, but I fuckingrefused, and I forbid Mecca to. He used to be this big-time drug dealer off the gold coast, but the time changed, and he was nothing but a dead man with memories. The last time I laid eyes on this man, I was young as fuck, and I wanted him to remember me every time he looked in a mirror. I screwed my face up and glared at him. “Fuck you want?” I asked with a mug.

“I just ne?—”

“Nah, you need to move around before I forget the space I’m in and make your ass casket ready.” The sight of his predator ass enraged me.

I didn’t know if he got the hint, but I didn’t give a damn. As long as he walked away, my freedom wasn’t flashing before my eyes. I knew hate was a strong word, but I hated his ass, and I made sure he hated his fucking life. I could’ve easily finished the job, but instead, I wanted his bitch ass to walk to the ends of the earth with the colostomy bag that I gave him. I made sure this bitch hated his life for the rest of his life.

The rest of our breakfast, Gayze made minimal conversation, and I could tell she had questions, all of which I was willing to answer when we got to my crib. She thought I was playing about spending the weekend with her. I wasn’t. I needed a little peace after everything that was going on.

“What was that?” she asked as soon as we walked into my home.

“What?” I knew exactly what she was referring to, but I wanted her to say it.

“With that man.” She hopped her thick ass on the counter and peered at me.

“Mel’s donor. He used to keep my moms high and take advantage of her. Her addiction wasn’t his problem. But the fact that he came around, got her high, hoed her out, and then went back to his cushy life pissed me off. Then when my mother waspregnant with Mel, I caught him saying some slick shit to Mecca about hoing her too.” I grimaced. I didn’t play about my sister.

She covered her mouth with her hand as I stepped between her legs.

“I told him if I ever saw him again, he’d be dead.” I looked her in her eyes as I spoke. “You okay with that?”

Her eyes went from my lips to my eyes a few times. She was thinking. “As long as you stay safe.”

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