Page 5 of Paranormal Love From an Immortal Thug
WEDNESDAY
Ic a m et owith the taste of wine still on my tongue and the sound of smoke crackling. My lashes fluttered open, slow and heavy. My towel was still barely wrapped around me, but my body was cool and dry like I’d been lying there for a minute. I blinked a few times before my vision finally focused.
That’s when I saw him sitting in the fluffy chair beside my bed like he’d been waiting for me to wake up. His legs were spread as he leaned back with one arm draped over the armrest. The other brought a slow-burning blunt to his lips. He took a pull like it was his morning ritual with his eyes on me the whole time.
I sat up too fast, heart thumping out of rhythm as I noticed the fiery rose now resting on my nightstand. “No, no, no…”
He exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and tilted his head. “Go ‘head. Say it.”
“This shit ain’t real,” I whispered, pressing both hands to my temples. “It’s the wine. I’m drunk. I’m dreaming.”
He smirked like I’d amused him, then he stood.
Lord, help me.He was even bigger up close. And not just tall but commanding. Built like he bench-pressed souls and didn’t flinch. The smoke curled around his shoulders like it wanted to stay near him. Like it knew who really ran things.
He walked slowly, stopping at the edge of my bed. “It’s real, ma. You called. I came.”
I shook my head. “No. No, I didn’t. We were just playing. It was a joke. A dumb spell from TokTick and…”
“And yet here I am,” he cut in, voice low and laced with that dark rhythm that made my skin feel too tight. “Conjured up by candlelight and pussy prayers. Back from the dead. Just for you, baby.”
I looked down at my hands, trying to convince myself I was still drunk. Dreaming. Something! Because this? This was not reality. I closed my eyes and whispered, “This can’t be real. This can’t be…”
“Wednesday.” The way he said my name was like he knew it before it was ever spoken. I opened my eyes slowly. He was still there, smirking like a demon with time on his hands and lust in his blood. “It’s real,” he said, flicking ash into the glass tray on my nightstand. “And I’m not here by accident.”
I swallowed hard. “What the fuck are you?”
He hit the blunt slowly, eyes locked on me like he owned the air I breathed. “I’m that nigga, ma,” he said, real calm, likehe was talking about the weather. “Been in that fuckin’ coffin for almost… what year is it?”
Trembling, I managed to push out, “It’s... 2025.”
He nodded, inhaling and exhaling weed smoke before he responded. “Four years this time. Six years the last. A year the first time this happened.”
I had no clue what the fuck he was talking about. Confused, I asked, “What… what do you mean? You’re… dead?”
“Technically speaking, I did die back in 2010,” he shrugged, slowly pacing the floor, pulling on the blunt. “But that lil’ spell you clowned with your homegirls? You know, right before you slid them fingers between them thick ass thighs in the shower?” He smirked, exhaled the smoke through his nose. “Yeah… that’s what brings me back every time. Gives me breath. But only ’til Halloween ride out.”
I just stared. “This ain’t funny,” I said, voice tight. “You’re talking like this is normal. Like you’re…”
“Reborn,” he cut in, voice smooth as a fresh fade. “But only for a few hours. When that veil thin and the world ain’t payin’ attention. Every few years, some bad ass woman like you opens that gate without even knowin’ it… and boom, here I come.”
I couldn’t keep up. My hands were clutching my towel like it could save me from whatever the hell this was. Heart beating, mind racing, and he just kept talking like none of it phased him.
“Let me tell you ‘bout myself so we got more of an understanding,” he said, slow-walking the room like he still owned the block. “At twenty-one, I ran shit, fed the streets, and gave fiends what they needed. I moved how I wanted to withwomen because I had power and shit most people was too scared to even fantasize about.”
My eyes tracked him, wide and locked. Every step he took made the air feel heavier. Every word had weight. I swear I could feel it in my chest like bass.
“Muthafuckas feared me. Hated me. They wanted my spot. They wanted the money I had, the power I held, and the women I made delirious between the sheets.” He stopped, looking at me now, dead in my face. The kind of stare that strips your soul bare.
“So, I was set up and killed by someone I considered a fuckin’ friend. Betrayed. Shot the fuck up. But what muthafuckas never knew,” he murmured, lifting the blunt again, “they can’t kill a real nigga, especially not one whose grandmother was into rootwork. God rest her soul. I can’t say for sure, but I know this shit was all her doin’. Puttin’ the spell in the universe.”
He paused to take a pull, lips wrapped around it like he was tasting the moment. Then he looked at me again, closer this time. Voice low and wicked.
“But you, Wednesday? You ain’t like none of these other women. You ain’t just moan. You ain’t just wish for a quick nut. You wanted apresence. A real nigga. You wanted somebody to pull up and never leave.”
“I didn’t know what I was doing,” I whispered, shakin’ my head. “I was just…”
“But you knew what youneeded,” he cut in, stepping closer. “You wrote it, spoke it, and let that hot ass water run down your body while you pictured me. Don’t lie now.” He leaned forward, one hand resting on the mattress beside me, close enough forme to smell the smoke on his skin and the heat radiating off his chest. “Ma, I ain’t just a fantasy,” he whispered. “I’m the answer.”
