Page 22 of Lilith


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“Okay…Ray, I’m not going to tell. I promise.”

“I know you won’t.”

“Then…you’ll leave? You’ll let me be free?”

“No.”

“Why?” I whined.

“You know why. Because you’re mine. Plus, I don’t think you really want me to leave.”

For some reason, I couldn’t respond.

Spoiler alert: I actually do sleep, but I’m a very light sleeper. The slightest sound can awaken me, including Lilith shifting in bed.

“Where you going?” I asked.

“Shit! The fuck?” she hissed, obviously startled.

“You moved. Where are you going?”

“I moved? Something is really wrong with you. What are you, a damn dog?”

“Lilith, answer the fucking question.”

“My ankle hurts.”

“Since when?”

“Since you manhandled me in my new shop space earlier today.”

“Yesterday. It’s after midnight now.”

“Whatever.”

“Why you just now saying something about it? You just hurting and shit and ain’t gon’ tell me?”

“Because it wasn’t that bad at first. It’s throbbing now.”

I hopped up and turned the lamp on to see her sitting on the opposite side of the bed, her ankle resting on her knee. She always slept in t-shirts and these tiny shorts, displaying smooth brown skin, especially those thick-ass thighs with a tiny peek of the bottom of her round ass. Lilith’s body was both a sin and a beautiful blessing. I think she wore that shit to fuck with me.

It was working.

Squatting before her, I inspected her swollen ankle and sighed. “I knew you were gonna fuck yourself up tryna run.”

“You’d try to run from your psychotic ass, too.”

“You got pain killers?”

“Yeah, in the bathroom.”

I left for the kitchen and heard her mumble, “I say bathroom and this nigga goes to the kitchen?” which made me smile.

I returned to her with a glass of water and some ice in a baggie, ducked into the bathroom for the painkiller, and when I returned to her, said, “Here.”

She took the medicine and water from me, and I watched as she downed two pills.

“Now, lie down,” I said.

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