Page 8 of Ony If It's You
“Hey, baby,” she crooned as soon as the call connected.
“Fuck you at, Kecia?” I asked, making sure that she could hear the frown in my voice.
“Eww, what’s with the attitude?”
“Answer the question, man.” I sighed running my hand down my face. Not only had I come out here to handle business, but I’d also come to decompress. Decompressing shouldn’t involve me worrying about what neither Kecia nor Zoey were doing.
“I came to get my nails done with Kacie,” she answered validating my earlier thoughts of her being out with her ghetto ass sister.
“Why didn’t you at least let Zoey go with you?”
“Because she was moping around. I told heryesterdaythat I was having a self-care day and told her to come with me, but I’m not going to beg her.”
I knew she wasn’t lying. She typically tried to include Zoey in everything, but Zoey being Zoey kept her introverted ass in the house.
“I’m about to make her Uber to you, which one you at?”
“I’ll send you the address. I’ll wait for her to get here.”
“Bet.”
Not too long after we disconnected the call a message came through containing the address that Kecia was at. Copying it, I went to the text thread between Zoey and I and pasted it.
Order an Uber and meet Kecia there, she’s waiting for you. I’m going to CashApp you some bread to cover the cost of your stuff.
I normally didn’t spend money on any female that I dealt with, but I needed to get Zoey’s ass out of the house so that she wasn’t sitting around bothering me all night.
Thank you, baby.
Don’t mention it. I’ll send money for the club and shit tonight too. Don’t sit in the house the entire time I’m gone, Zoey.
I won’t. Thank you again.
I breathed a little easier knowing that she was going to get out and not be sitting there depressed all day. Contrary to what everyone seemed to think of me, a nigga did have a heart.
After sending the money I joined my uncle and cousin in the living room area where they were seated on the couch watching SportsCenter. Of course, because of who the main event of tomorrow’s fight was, my name was being mentioned.
“Isn’t it ironic, Dave, that tomorrow Chris Gambrell will be fighting for the same title as he did a few months ago when he was beat almost to a bloody pulp in this very venue?”
My chest tightened thinking back to that night. Shit was going smooth for me, but my pops came over with his bullshit per usual. He was ranting and raving about me not finishing the match this early. Gambrell was an easy opponent, too easy if I was being honest, but he was in my weight class and I never let my head get too big to where I thought that an opponent couldn’t luck up and beat me.
That night though, my dad was going on and on about money as he always did and I tweaked out. I didn’t give a fuck about making more money by making the fight longer. Part of me also wanted him to be proud of what I did for a change as opposed to the amount of money that I could make us. With all of that in mind, I snapped. I had so much built-up frustration that I just… snapped.
“Very, Kat,”Dave answered.“And we’ve received word that JV Goldsmith is here to attend the fight tomorrow.”
“Well, we, along with Gambrell, can only hope that he doesn’t have flashbacks to that night and try to finish the job, huh?”the reporter joked, but I found no humor in the shit.
For months they’d made a mockery of me online and on TV. I was the butt of all the jokes and painted to be a fucking monster.I was officially tired of the shit. What ol’ Dave better hope was that I didn’t break my foot off in his ass when I saw him.
My uncle grabbed the remote and turned the TV off because he knew if they continued to egg me on, I would get their location and pull up to see just what was so fucking funny.
“Don’t even sweat that shit, cuz,” Dominique said as he looked on with the same sympathy that his father was watching me with.
“Not sweating it,” I lied. I was extremely bothered, but it was what it was.
“Nephew—”
I cut him off. “We going out or what? Because I don’t give a fuck about that.”
