“Quency—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Kara.” I shut her down and stood upright.
“That’s the problem. Daddy isn’t the same. He’s changed a lot over the years. He’s seeing a therapist, and meditating. You should talk to him. He misses you,” Kara urged.
“The man got off on torturing me, Kara. Called that shit making me a man. I’ve been traumatized and reacting since I was a fucking kid! What eight-year-old sits and plays Russian roulette with his drunk ass father at two in the fucking morning? Because he’s so fucking lit, he’s pulling me out of the bed andprogramming me with some bullshit. He’s the reason I am the way I fucking am today! What I need to talk to him for? To make him feel better?” I barked. “Because that shit won’t do a damn thing for me! I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”
“Quency—” she pleaded after me, but I didn’t want to hear none of that shit right now.
In the hallway, Harbor and I nearly collided. She was in jeans and a baby tee that showed off her toned stomach. If she was going to be walking around like this, a nigga was bound to lose some self-control. Halting in my steps, I stared down into her soft face. Looking into her eyes, I wondered if she had heard me with my sister.
“Good morning.” She lowered her head.
I brought my hand to her chin and lifted her face so that her eyes connected to mine. “Eyes and chin up, at all times. Remember that,” I advised, and her big, expresso orbs searched mine. “I know someone that does makeup and hair. She’ll be stopping by around six to help you get ready. I may be gone until then.”
“Okay, I’ll be ready by seven,” she assured me.
* * *
Later that night…
I studiedmy appearance in the full-length mirror inside my bedroom. Adjusting my tie, I felt confident in the black Tom Ford threads and matching shoes. I had gotten a fresh line from the barber, and I was ready for whatever the night might bring. I wasn’t typically a nervous type dude, but something about tonight had me a little on edge. When I got downstairs to the living room, it was 6:45 p.m. as I checked my watch and pouredmyself a drink. The doorbell rang, and I watched Celine slink by the doorway to answer. She greeted Ledge and his date. Chevelle came strutting inside on his arm. Their outfits matched, and they didn’t look half bad.
“A’ight. I got about thirty minutes before this pill kick in, bro,” Ledge voiced.
“I told your stupid ass don’t take that shit.” His baby mama scolded him.
“And I told you to quit trying to control a nigga,” Ledge reputed.
I swallowed some of my drink just as Karmine came waltzing inside, eating as always. Carrying a bag of Doritos, he crunched away as a boyish grin fell over his lips.
“Aw shit. Y’all out here looking casket sharp.” He teased, chucking a chip into his mouth.
“My nigga,” Ledge greeted him with a pound and they embraced one another. “When the hell did you get here?”
“Yesterday. Surprised Free ain’t tell you.” Karmine waved a hand my way.
“Got a lot going on,” I admitted.
“Yes, you do. I was in your office. Noticed all the new cameras.” Karmine sank into the sofa and grinned from east to west while gaping back at me mischievously. “You got some strange habits, bro.” He shook his head.
Ledge chuckled from where he stood and seated himself across from Karmine. He dug his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling his social media while they waited.
“What are we waiting for?” Chevy asked, standing behind him.
Ledge was so busy going through his news feed that he didn’t even pay attention to her scoping everything from her vantage point.
“My guess is… Free’s date is fashionably late. But… as fine as she is… baby can take all the time she needs,” Karmine kidded.
“I still can’t believe you’re bringing this bitch—” Ledge started.
“Knowledge.” My voice was sharp, catching his attention.
He brought his eyes up and we connected. Karmine studied us both peculiarly.
“Why? What’s wrong with her? What I miss?” Karmine questioned.
“So you keeping baby brother in the dark about what’s really going on?” Ledge looked over his shoulder at me.
