There was no need to worry him with possibilities. I walked through the lobby with my head held high and my shoulders back. Like an Uber Eats delivery driver, I had dropped off a pussy delivery. Outside, the night air hit my face. It was quiet, but not enough to be peaceful. Just quiet enough to hear your own thoughts. I climbed back into the G-Wagon and sat there for a second without starting it.
My phone buzzed and my heart fluttered.
CO: You made it back downstairs?
A smile touched my lips before I could stop it as I rolled my eyes and texted back.
ME: No. I got kidnapped.
CO: Damn. Need me to call somebody?
ME: Yeah, CALL Batman’s FINE ASS.
CO: WHAT IF HE’S BUSY?
ME: Then send Superman.
I rolled my eyes and started the car. The conversation between us always felt so normal and easy. I was comfortable with him. A married man who would never belong to me had my nose wide open.
CO: Be safe.
I swallowed hard. His words shouldn’t have mattered, but they did. I hated that knowing he cared made me feel good. He gave me crumbs of time, love, and affection, and I ate them and told myself I was full. Instead of heading home, I went back to Brick & Co Fitness to grab my work laptop. The cleaners were finishing up. I parked and walked through the front doors, spotting Shelly wiping the counter and eating hot fries. She always stayed behind after I left like she was in no rush to get home.
“Bitch he got you glowing,” she commented. “I’m so jealous I haven’t been fucked good in so long,” she rolled her eyes at me.
I wanted to tell her that I would gladly give her the glow, the problem, and the love I had for a nigga that wasn’t mine. Instead, I stuck my tongue out and placed it over my teeth. I began to twerk like I wasn’t damn near pushed to tears when the man I was in love with fucked me up against the door and hadn’t bothered to ask if I was hungry or if my light bill was paid. I pretended that I liked our arrangement. That I was “getting mine” and “enjoying myself.”
If I said it enough, maybe one day I could convince myself that it was true.
Suddenly, I caught a whiff of the cleaning agent they used and placed my hand over my nose and mouth to keep myself from throwing up. I quickly walked to the desk, grabbed a salt packet, licked the back of my hand, and dumped some salt on it. I licked my hand and the taste of the salt pushed the nausea down.
“You, okay?” Shelly asked me.
The question caught me off guard, and I turned to look at her. People asked how you were all the time, but nobody actually wanted the answer. If I told Shelly the truth, she’d start asking questions and connecting dots. I had to get the hell out of Houston because someone had started asking questions.
“I’m fine,” I said, “My cycle is coming, and it always makes me so nauseous.” I lied. My cycle was two weeks late and there wasn’t a cramp in sight.
“Girl I’m the same way, I hate it,” she sighed.
My phone buzzed and I expected it to be him. I pulled it from my bra, opened it and there was a message from Cozart’s sister Brick.
BRICHELLE: GET TO MY OFFICE NOW!
My eyes widened. When your boss told you to get to their office now, that wasn’t usually a good sign. I grabbed my laptop and placed it inside of my purse and put the purse underneath the counter. I took deep breaths to try to slow my breathing. I prayed that I hadn’t gotten caught.
“How long has Brick been back there?” I asked Shelly casually.
“A few minutes after you left, she pulled up and she has been back there since. When she walked in, she had the angriest scowl on her face. Sis might be in the same boat as me she needssome dick in her life. She is way too uptight,” Shelly whispered under her breath.
I laughed and shook my head praying that my boss hadn’t found out one of the million things I had been hiding from her. Not only had I been stealing from her customers I had been fucking her brother, and both of those things could get me tossed out on my ass quicker than Kevin the janitor, who had been stealing protein powder.
Chapter Three
Brichelle “Brick” Walker
“MOVE YOUR DAMN TRUCK!” I yelled as I slammed my open palm on the horn of my Porsche Cayenne. The first time I had pulled up and noticed this ugly ass yellow truck in my parking spot, I decided not to be a bitch and just let him use the spot. I parked somewhere else even though I had been parking in the same spot for eight years. Grace had run out, I was starving, I had violent cramps, and my annoying ass brother wasn’t answering the phone. I was on a warpath, and this man had parked his country ass truck right in the center of it. He stepped out of the truck with a box in his hand and looked at me like I was crazy.
“GET BACK IN YOUR TRUCK AND MOVE IT!” I screamed at him angrily.
