Solana Damita Ledesma
Igasped as he pushed us forward, tears blurring my vision.
¿Hija?(Daughter?)When did he acquire a hija(daughter)?Was it Glow’s?
“¡Espera! ¡Tú no tienes una hija!(Wait! You don’t have a daughter!)” I screamed.
We entered the garage where his Maybach was already running, the exhaust from the pipe making me choke on my tears. The night was eerily still, and the aroma of damp soil and fresh-cut grass distracted me from the fact that Shio had me in his grasp. Shio shoved me into the car; the caring hands I’d felt last night were gone. It wasn’t until my ass hit the leather seat and the slamming of the door that I was brought back to my current predicament.
Shio was in the driver’s seat in a flash, reversing with such force that it nearly sent me headfirst into the dashboard.
“Shio… You don’t have a daughter!” I screamed as he drove like a madman out of his neighborhood.
“Put your fucking seat belt on.”
His jaw flexed as he drove over a speed bump as if it were a rock in a road and not designed to slow a vehicle. He steeredthe car with one hand while scrolling through his phone with the other. When he held the phone up to my face, I saw that it was mine and that he had used it for face recognition so it would unlock. Panic surged inside me. I tried to reach over to grab it, but he used his forearm to block me.
“Man, watch out!” He spat out harshly.
My breathing hitched as I watched him press the call log button and press the last number that had called. He held the phone up to his ear, and when the person didn’t pick up, he tried again and again and again.
“What the fuck is your brother’s number?”
I opened my mouth to reply, but giggles came out instead. Shio looked so flustered and sexy, and I don’t know why, but it was funny. There was a voice in me telling me to sober up, that I was in danger, and that Shio was upset with me, but the drugs were driving my body, my actions, and my emotions.
“Shits crazy…” Shio grumbled as he went through my phone until he found what he was looking for as I gyrated in my seat. There was no music playing, but I still had the tunes from the closet in my head.
He dialed that number a few more times before tossing my phone in the back seat and pulling out his own. We were now at a red light, and I was throwing my head as I shook my ass in the seat. I felt amazing.
“Aye…” His deep voice boomed, but I couldn’t stop dancing.
His scent invaded my space first, and then I felt his body heat. He was close, and it was sending my body into overdrive. His face met mine, and without thinking, I tried to grab him. He jerked his head back, leaving his body close as he leaned over me. It wasn’t until I heard the loud click that I realized he was securing my seat belt. My eyes watered at the rejection, but he simply looked away and sped through the red light.
Placing his phone on speaker, he continued defying the law and going past the speed limit. His phone rang three times before the FaceTime call connected. I had gone back to twirling in my seat and was now snapping my fingers. Thecocaína(cocaine) here would make the people back home crazy.
“Fuck you want, Moses? I ain’t fucking with yo’ biblical ass?—”
“Nel.”
“Yo…” I could hear Nel shuffling through the phone and started rolling my hips to the rustling. “Aye, you good?”
“Nah…”—Shio rubbed his hand down his face—“But I will be. Aye, look… I’ll be out of pocket for a bit. I need you to make sure you check in on Hobo. I would say the nigga can croak over and starve to fuckin’ death, but I made Neltz a promise.”
Nel was quiet for a beat until he sighed. “Fuck that nigga! Come scoop me, and we can handle whatever got you tight in the chest together?—”
“Nah, this ain’t yo’ problem, G.” Shio stressed to him. I wanted to stop my dancing and caress him, but the drugs gave my body nothing but energy to burn off.
“Nigga, we family. Cousins—nah! Fuck that. We brothers. Yo’ problem is my problem, and you ’bout the only one of us who don’t have too many problems, Shio, so that means this shit, whatever it is, is serious. Come scoop me.”
Shio quieted and made a merge onto the interstate. His words were low when he finally said into the phone, “Nel, handle Hobo.”
He ended the call and began typing on his screen. When I heard more ringing, I knew he was making another call. I had calmed down some, no longer dancing, and was now trying to focus on Shio.
“Wassup?”
Soft baby cries were in the background before shuffling, and then the call grew quiet.
“I ain’t gone be long, so you can get back to your jits. But I need you to make the drops tomorrow and for the foreseeable future. Ezio, he still off, and I know you just had babies, too, but I really ain’t tryna have him?—”
