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“It’s not a mistake.”
I turned toward the source of that statement to find Tika standing a little behind me, arms crossed as she scowled in my direction.
“Excuse me?” I asked, confused, and Tika took another step toward me.
“Isaid, it’s not a mistake. I canceled the appointment, because I didn’t think I could stand to look at you after what you did.”
My frown deepened. “Again –Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about, T?”
“Kellen. You took him from me!”
My head reared back. “Took him? Fromyou?”
“Yes, you jealousbitch,” she spat, closing that last step between us. “He was going to leave you, and it was going to be me and him—”
“Are you telling me that you were fucking myhusband, Tika? Are you kidding me?!”
Tika shook her head as a slick little smile curved the corners of her mouth. “No. I wasn’t fucking your “husband”. I was fuckingmy man, and your chubby ass just couldn’t help getting in the way. I hope they throw away the key when they lock your frigid ass up.Murderer.”
I didn’t see red.
I saw black.
And the very next second, one of my hands was tangled in Tika’s hair, holding with the tightest grip I could while the other hand curled into a fist to connect with her face.
I heard the screams from the patrons, heard Blake in my ear, begging me to let Tika go while she tried in vain to pull me off of her, but I just… I couldn’t.
I was so,sotired.
And I had so many questions.
How long had it been going on? How the hell had it started? Did he initiate it? Did she? But I didn’t care about any of the answers as much as I cared about shutting her up.
With my fist.
“Monica!”
I couldn’t say why, but that time, when Blake said my name, it got my attention. I was no longer holding Tika, but my fingers were still clenched tight around a handful of bleached blonde strands.
“Comeon, before the police get here,” Blake hissed, carting me toward the door, and away from where Tika was surrounded by stylists trying to comfort her.
I shook her weave from my hand, intending to follow Blake’s instruction, but Mona, one of the older stylists, and owner of the salon stepped in front of us. Immediately, my fists clenched again, but Mona held up her hands.
“I was married thirty-two years,” she said in a deep, serious tone. “My husband couldn’t keep his dick in his pants either, so I know how it feels, honey. I’ve done just that,” – she pointed to where Tika was being helped to the back, “to more than one hoe myself. Don’t you worry about this, alright? Weallsaw her approach you, and rear her hand back to hit you. Didn’t we?” Mona asked, glancing at the stylists and clients within earshot. They all knew well enough to nod.
Honestly, I was still a little dazed, still reeling from what had just happened, so I couldn’t do much except mirror their nods. “Um… thank you,” I told her.
“Mmhmm. Now gone on. I can’t have this trouble in my shop.”
“Yes ma’am.”
I didn’t have to be told twice to leave a place, especially when I recognized I’d been done a favor. We climbed back in the car, and Blake drove in silence for several minutes before she spoke up.
“Aiight Holyfield – you wanna tell me what thefuckthat was?”
I huffed. “I’m not really sure what you want me to say, Blake. I snapped.”
“Clearly. I didn’t know you had hands like that Mon,” she laughed. “You didn’t break a nail did you?”
