Page 20 of Mahogany 2
“Can you?” He questioned, staring at me with razor sharp eye contact.Shit, I could literally feel how bad he wanted to eat my pussy through the way he looked at me.
I swallowed and nodded. “Yes. I can control myself very well.”
I could. I could. I fucking could. Despite the way he made my pussy pulsate with one comment. Judah was magnetic, charming and… freaky as hell. But he was no Crescent Carter. So yes… yes I could control myself.
With a shrug he said, “Well good. We won’t have a problem then.”
5
DUKE
I leaned over,hit the glovebox and grabbed my little bottle of 1942. Before I cracked the seal on it, I glanced up at the funeral home and took a deep breath.
“Shit crazy as hell,” I mumbled before taking a sip, trying to mentally prepare myself to see Erika in a casket.
Today was Erika’s wake. I left work early to make it. Tried to talk myself out of it but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t attend. Regardless of where we stood when we went our separate ways, Erika still deserved respect.
After taking a sip from the bottle, I killed the engine and grabbed the bouquet of white roses I picked up on my way in. Was I doing too much? Probably so. Fuck it. NeNe thought work was spilling over and I had the text messages to prove it if shit got too sticky. The team was on site—I left an hour ago. Pulled up at the wake in dusty ass work clothes. She was going out with her sister anyway, so I was the last thing she was worried about.
Getting out of the car, I took notice to all of the people walking in. Erika had a bright ass spirit. Because I knew her on a deeper level, I knew she didn’t keep Diary away from me for vindictive reasons. What Rochelle said had to be true. Shewanted her baby and decided to raise it on her own, intending to carry on with life without me ever finding out. But eventually, that good heart of hers got in the way and she planned to tell me.
When I walked into the crowded funeral home, heads turned, as if they smelled a nigga coming or some shit. As I made my way to the front of the room, I heard whispers. Couldn’t make out what was being said because my eyes were fixed on the pearl white casket in front of me. I swallowed the knot in my throat and continued my stride, ignoring all of the muthafuckas behind me. We spent a lot of time together, of course my emotions were getting the best of me. Shit was unfortunate as hell.
I didn’t want this to be how I saw her for the last time. Swallowing again, I fought against my emotions, sick as hell. Guilty as hell. Scared as hell. A lot of ‘as hells’. My life was changing… drastically. I didn’t know if I could do this without her. Take care of Diary. I had a family. I couldn’t… she… Mahogany… she wouldn’t take Diary in. I—I was fucked up. Heavily.
Finally, I made it to the casket and the tears I fought against, fought back, whooping my ass. I dropped a few. Couldn’t help but. She looked… good. Decent. The accident left her with a lot of scars. Mostly in her face and her head but they did her up real nice. Didn’t look like Erika, but she looked good enough. Close. Like a distant cousin. But she did look peaceful. Didn’t they all though? When the day came… didn’t they all look peaceful?
“Damn E,” I muttered before swiping a tear away from my nose. “What the hell am I going to do?” I whispered.
Clearly not low enough because someone from behind said, “What you supposed to do.”
I looked over my shoulder and the same nigga from the hospital stood behind me, waiting while I paid my respects. His eyes were bloodshot red, and he had a frown on his face. Standing up straight, I held my chin up a little, just in casea nigga wanted smoke. I didn’t know what the fuck it was with Erika’s family but muthafuckas were acting like I was the problem. Like I walked out on her and the kid. I left her—didn’t know shit about a baby.
“What?” I questioned, matching the frown on his face.
He held his hands up a little. “No offense. You done?”
I sized him up and told him I wasn’t. I didn’t give a fuck about being in a funeral home, surrounded by people that apparently hated me. If a nigga wanted smoke, we could get shit moving without a problem.
Turning back around, I leaned down and kissed her on her forehead. “I got it E. I’ll do my best. Rest well.”
What else was I supposed to do? I had to play with the hand I was dealt regardless of how shitty it might’ve been. I just… I needed to tell my wife. The first thing I needed to do was read the results. Should have opened them days ago but facing reality wasn’t easy for me. What would I do when what I knew was confirmed? Didn’t know if I would tell her once I got the results or let it breathe a little.
Before I walked out of the funeral home, I looked for Ms. Rochelle. I had to pay my respects. I wasn’t a fucked-up nigga and for some reason I wanted them to know that too.
“Hey Ms. Rochelle,” I greeted once I found her sitting on one of the pews.
She was surrounded by family and friends, crying. Looking up at me she sniffled, dabbed at her eyes and stood. I was taken aback when she wrapped her arms around me. Seemed like she was the only muthafucka who had a little compassion for me.
“I’m so sorry, Duke. I—my daughter… she didn’t prepare for this and… and I’m sorry! I’m sorry for the time she took away from you. God gon’ work it all out, baby.”
God gon’ work it out.
Religious folks loved saying that shit. If God was really on my side He wouldn’t have allowed this to happen in the first place. But fuck it. It was what it was. Hopefully, if He cared about me as much as muthafuckas claimed He cared about His people, he would work it out for me. I hoped.
“Hey daddy!”Yelled Sparkle when I walked into the house.
Leaning down, I picked her up with a grunt. “Wassup baby girl? What you up to?”
