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G, I think we should meet…
My heart rapid-fires as I stare at the cursor blinking at the end of the three dots.
Am I really going to write that?
I shake my head and start backspacing, deleting the words. “Don’t be so fucking stupid, Hoodoo,” I mumble as I delete the last sentence. “‘G’ is far too good for you. The best thing to do would be to let her go.”
I stare at the letter, my chest squeezing at the thought of telling ‘G’ that I can’t write to her anymore. That this is not doing us any good at all.
But I’m a chickenshit, and a part of me needs this.
Needs her.
So I continue to backspace to ‘I feel like I know you’ and then continue.
I’m so glad we came into each other’s lives, and I hope we remain close for a really long time to come.
Anyway, I just wanted to touch base with you, seeing as I didn’t write last week due to me being a weakling. I swear I’ll be more of a man for you in the future.
Hope you’re doing well. Oh, and Happy New Year!
Forever Yours,
N x
Letting out a sigh, I read over it a few times, then once I am happy, I save it in my ‘G’ file on my computer and print the letter. Then I go ahead and get it ready to send.
I figure since I’m practically up, I may as well go and get that breakfast Maxxy was talking about.
My stomach twists, thinking about her.
Shaking my head at the fact that I have two women in my life, and neither of them I can take the next step with is crazy. Groaning, I walk to my closet, grab a fresh shirt, yank it over my head, then pull up my jeans. After I sink into my boots, I slide on my cut.
Time to have breakfast.
Grabbing ‘G’’s letter, I walk out of my bedroom gingerly, my muscles still sore, and I make my way to the main room to the smell of bacon. I sniff the air and smile, loving the fact I’m finally going to have a home-cooked breakfast. Those hospital breakfasts don’t have anything on Lani’s bacon and grits!
Sliding into a seat next to Omen and City, they look up at me as I sigh. “Mornin’.”
“Surprised to see you here. Thought you’d be in bed all day, brother,” Omen states.
I scoff, shaking my head. “Do I feel like shit? Yeah! But am I gonna wallow in it? Fuck no! I need to be out here hearing what y’all are doing about Anton and the fucking Bratva.”
City takes a bite of his toast and shrugs. “Don’t know what to tell you on that front. Raid’s still looking for someone to target. Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll find a ping.”
Groaning, I rest my elbow on the table, then my head in my hand. “Fucking hope so,” I mumble as Storm approaches the table.
“Hoodoo, you want some breakfast?” she asks.
“Fuck yeah! Oh, and hey, can you send this off for me?” I ask, handing her the letter.
She smiles, taking it from me, then looks down at the address. “Is this one of the infamous letters to your pen pal that Frankie was telling me about?”
Shrugging, I smile, and Omen and City chuckle to themselves. “She’s probably worried because I haven’t written for a while. I have some making up to do.”
Storm sighs, holding the letter to her chest wistfully. “This is so sweet.”
City can’t resist a jab. “Don’t you think you are a little old for a pen pal?”
