Her eyes lowered in shame, she tried to drop her face in defeat, but I wouldn’t let her.
“Too long,” she croaked out.
That admission made me feel physically sick. My stomach rolled violently as I fought to stay strong for her.
“He hurt you bad,” I murmured lowly, still inspecting her bruises.
I wanted to bring that nigga back to life then stomp him back to death.
“Nights ago… he came in drunk while I was trying to call you to tell you that I was ready to burn this house down and all the painful memories that came along with it…” Tears rolled down her sunken cheeks.
“I caught the flu three weeks ago. I hadn’t seen or heard from him, I already knew he was with the son and daughter that he treats better than you.” She hiccupped through her soft sobs.
None of what she said affected me. I honestly didn’t give a fuck about Ronald. He had been dead to me since I left this house as a teen. I only came around for her; she knew it too.
“I was sitting here.” She moved her face weakly away from my grip then turned her face and body slowly to look out the window. “I called you and left a voice mail; he walked in here, didn’t say anything good except cursing you…when you the reason we stay afloat even though you hardly come around…” She gasped then took in a deep breath.
Momma looked down at her frail hands then back out the window, shaking her head.
“I couldn’t take it anymore… Soon as his fist connected with my jaw, I snapped and lost control over myself….” She sobbed out loud and hard. “Royal, I’m sorry it took so long.” She covered her face with both hands to quiet her sobs. “I got tired of being tired… tired of seeing your young innocent face full of tears and bruises that you covered in order to protect his pathetic ass life—”
“Take that nigga outta here,” I cut her off, turning to Brutal and Tabari with fury in my eyes.
I needed his body gone before I disrespected it right in front of her. I wasn’t worried about neighbors smelling the pungent smell of Ronald since other surrounding estates were miles apart from another. I focused back on her and my vision almost blacked out.
You weren’t there to protect her…
“You couldn’t save me when I never wanted to be saved in the beginning.” She read my emotional thoughts.
“I feel free, relieved… I’m crying because I feel so guilty for being so weak for a man that never loved me. He stayed because it was convenient… and I was the easiest to control,” she confessed.
“It’s okay,” I started.
“It’s not,” I stated gravely.
“I don’t fault you… I just wished I was the one to kill him. You didn’t need his blood on your hands,” I gritted out, trying my best to simmer my anger down.
Her fingers trembled too badly to hold the cigarette up in her hands, so I took it from her. I stubbed it out in the ashtray full of cigarette butts then grabbed her shaky hand in mine.
“Ma.”
Her swollen eyes lifted toward me.
“My men gon’ take care of everything,” I reassured her confidently, voice void of emotion.
“Don’t worry about the house or having to be alone in it… You coming home with me. Later down the line, if you want another house, I’ll get you whatever you want. Just don’t break completely on me, please,” I begged, feeling like the little boy I used to be begging her to leave him.
“I don’t want to be a burden.” She shook her head.
That comment pissed me off. It sounded too close to her trying to apologize.
“You coming with me. You my momma, the woman that raised me,” I reminded her.
I never came to her about me knowing about Lucille being my real mom because she still didn’t deserve the acknowledgment as that after her rejection back at my house. Amanda Lee was my mother and would always be, even after death. I watched fresh tears slip down her bruised cheeks. I reached out and wiped them away.
“I’m getting you settled in my house. I’ll have a doctor come look at you; whatever you need and whatever I know you need, it’s done.” I looked her in the eyes as she looked away.
“Thank you, Royal… I don’t want to be alone for a while,” she confessed.