Page 51 of Don't Kross Me
With a laugh, Kross shrugged his broad shoulders. “Be real, Remedy. Have you ever made love to a real hitta?A nigga that always in the field, probably finessin', probably out here drug dealin',” he rapped the lyrics to the song to her. He caressed her face, prompting her blushed cheek bones to rise as a wide-stretched smile graced her face.
For the rest of the ride, Remedy basked in the attention and affection Kross gave her. It was refreshing to finally be able to let go of the hard exterior she was forced to carry around and just be soft and feminine. Kross braked the car into a smooth stop as she gazed out the dark tinted window to scope their surroundings. The entrance of the infamous Papi Steak restaurant beamedthrough the window as the lights that adorned the tall palm trees flickered.
Immediately, Kross was relieved of his driving duties by the valet, and he went around to help her out the car. Hand in hand, they approached the grand double doors of the restaurant. Because he made their reservation in advance, they were ushered to a table immediately. The restaurant was a fusion between a night club and fine dining. There was a DJ spinning music that was loud enough to enjoy but not drown out the conversations that were being held at each table.
“You fuck with this?” Kross asked after they put in their drink orders. He glanced around the restaurant, and just by the look on his face, Remedy could tell he was out of his comfort zone. Not that he didn’t have the paper to break bread in the establishment; he just never really liked posh and upscale places. This was more so for Remedy, and from the smile that had graced her face since they pulled up, he could tell she was enjoying every second of it.
“I love it in here! It’s giving grown and sexy. Let me find out you know what you’re doing, Kross,” she teased him with a smirk.
He stroked his beard as a smirk etched his face as well. “I know what type of timing you on, so I had to come correct.”
Unable to withstand the pressure of the deep eye contact they were engaged in, she tore her eyes away from his and fixed them on the menu before her. Once their drinks were served, they put in their orders for their food. Under the dim lights, they exchanged glances at each other over their drinks.
“What does P.C. stand for?” Remedy asked in her soft voice as she reached over the table and her hand graced over the diamond drenched P.C. pendant that hung from his neck.
“Paper Chase. It’s an empire, shawty.”
“Oh. That’s your little crew or something?”
“Ain’t shit little about it, but we’re a family more than anything. They held shit down for me while I was locked up.”
“What were you locked up for?” His past piqued her interest.
Kross ran a hand down his face. “Trafficking. I was supposed to do fifteen years, but I walked it down in seven. My pockets paid the price for it, though, ‘cause my lawyer wasn’t cheap,” he chuckled.
“Doing that time, it didn’t make you want to come home and do something different? That’s seven years of your life you can’t get back.”
“I mean, yeah. I planned on being out the game and laying low with the fam, but shit hit the fan quick as soon as I got out. Motherfuckas’ forced my hand, and now, I gotta do what I gotta do.”
Remedy nodded, understanding that him being vague on the matter meant there was just certain shit he couldn’t discuss with her because he didn’t know and trust her well enough.
“What about you, though? You ready to tell me why you still fucking with that lame-ass nigga?”
A deep sigh fled out of Remedy as she rolled her eyes. Somehow, someway, Kross managed to circle everything back to why she was still with Tone. She wanted tonight to be about them and what they currently had blossoming, not the hell she had to face when reality set in. While cutting her steak, she shook her head. “I told you I was done with him.”
Kross sat his utensils down and leaned back in his seat. The look on his face read that he was unconvinced. “Listen, I ain’t expecting you to trust a nigga right away ‘cause I can’t do the same for you, but I want you to believe me when I say this, Remedy. If you tell me what that nigga’s holding over your head that’s making you feel stuck, I promise you I’ll take care of that shit. I don’t fuck with niggas who think they can put they handson women. I see more for you, but you gotta let me in, shawty, or else, I can’t save you.”
The level of conviction and assertion he had in his tone let Remedy know he meant every word he said. In that moment, she felt a sense of security she hadn’t felt since the last time she hugged her father when he was alive and well. Averting her eyes from her food, she peered into his eyes.
“He’s been taking care of me since I was 22, young, dumb, and green as hell. He had me put up, and I thought that was all there was to life. I can admit, I made some dumb-ass decisions for love and put myself on the back burner. I lost my identity within being his girlfriend.” She shook her head, shaming herself. “It wasn’t until after my dad died and he left me the shop that I gained a sense of independence and realized all the shit he’d been talking about me not working and him always being there to take care of me was all just a manipulation tactic. I thought I could figure it out, but Deno not only left me with his shop, but with his debt, bills, my little brother, and my mother who’s schizophrenic and has early onset Alzheimer’s. I moved them in with me, but shit is getting bad, and this nigga is disrespecting and belittling my family to their faces. It’s one thing if he does it to me, but my mom and little brother? That shit fucks me up, dawg.”
Kross could tell that finally being able to confide in someone was alleviating the weight Remedy carried on her shoulders day in and day out. He wasn’t about to pass judgment because everybody did dumb shit in their past. As long as she ain’t have the same mentality and she learned from it, that was all that mattered.
“I gotta figure out how to keep my daddy’s shop running even though money ain’t been looking right and find somewhere stable for my little brother and mom in the next two weeks, andthat shit has been stressing me the fuck out.” She sighed as she ran her fingers through her hair anxiously.
Once she realized she had just unloaded so much on Kross so soon, she instantly regretted it and began internally shaming herself. “Fuck. I probably shouldn’t have told you all that. Don’t worry about it.”
Kross smacked his lips and shook his head. “Man, I just asked you to keep it real with me. You think I’mma judge you after that? That ain’t the type of nigga I am, shawty. Dealing with all that shit is a lot. Then you’re mourning your daddy and got that bitch-ass nigga putting his hands on you on top of that. What about that paper you made with me? That ain’t help?”
“It did, but that nigga done fucked up my credit so damn bad, ain’t no leasing company willing to give me a chance. Every application I put in, I get denied, even with proof of income. I just need one yes to get my mom and little brother straight. Then I’ll be cool.”
These past few days, Remedy had been so defeated. She thought money was her only problem, but she came up on money just to find out Tone had been fucking up her credit for years now. Like always, he found a way to fuck her over just to keep her tied to him.
Kross reached across the table and cupped her small hand within his. “Shawty, that ain’t too big for me fix,” he assured her with a set of soft eyes. “It sounds like you’re pressed on time. My mama and her husband run a housing facility within their nonprofit. It’s a nice spot, and you can have your people move in temporarily until you figure out something more permanent,” he offered as he pulled out his phone and began tapping at the screen.
Remedy’s eyes widened as big as saucers when he handed her the phone to take a look at the housing building. It was a nice multifamily duplex that Andres and Raquel restored a coupleyears back. Despite not speaking to his mother for the stretch of his seven-year sentence, Kross had Cassie anonymously donate a couple thousand dollars to the nonprofit, which helped them get things off the ground. He always had a giving heart; he just gave to the wrong people most of the time, which made him a lot more selective now.
“Wait. You can get my mom and little brother in there?” she asked in disbelief.
