Page 135 of The Ninth

“You coo, OG?” Kenzo asked.

“Yes sir!”

“She been coo?”

“Of course. I care for Cassandra and her friends as well.”

Kenzo looked him up and down. Reaching in his pocket, I didn’t know if this nigga was going to pull out a shank or a gun. Instead, he pulled out a fat roll of money. Pierre immediately declined it. The look on Kenzo’s face made him take it against his will.

“Thank you for protecting her.”

“My pleasure.”

I threw him an apologetic smile as K3 gently pushed me forward. Pierre usually takes us to our door, but something this night told him he didn’t have to. I felt bad because not only did Kenzo take him by surprise, he also is helping hide the fact that he’s escorted Juan up as well. I started to understand just how bad shit was.

Through the lobby, up the elevators, and to the apartment. All I could be was grateful that when I’m stressed, I clean. I knew the money were threw was up. Fresh sheets on the bed. Tidy and spotless.

I held the door as the three of them walked in. Shutting it, I kept it unlocked because Man-Man bitch ass ain’t staying in my shit! Man-Man and Devyn walked to the kitchen, used to the apartment. Kenzo walked in slowly, taking in all the changes I’ve made since he’s been inside. Looking at a life I didn’t share with him for five years. Seeing the background to our calls and finally being here in person.

My feet walked beside him. My hand tried to find his. On the low, he pulled his away, clearly not wanting to take mine. Panic filled my chest as I begun to worry. Like G, I was anxious as fuck watching him slowly walk through the apartment.

Devyn started to speak up as he went inside of her room, but her brains told her to shut up. After just a couple of seconds, he walked back out and straight towards my room. Devyn snatched the duffle full of stolen money, going into her room and slamming the door. Man-Man walked towards the front,

“I’m out, foe. This shit bogus as hell. Make sure she don’t leave this mothafucka.”

“You know I will,” Kenzo agreed, easily.

I rolled my eyes as we entered inside. His eyes scanned every single bit of the room. I felt grateful that I gave my C necklace from Juan to Tati. He slowly made his way to the little hallway.

“It’s so clean in here. It’s perfect, Crybaby. You’ve taken good care of your space...” he said quietly. Voice still strained with anger.

He looked into my closet, shaking his head while chuckling. He looked into the second closet and tensed up. His eyes widened at all the male clothing, shoes, and accessories everywhere. I could tell he thought he caught me. He popped up, came home, and realized I been living with a nigga. I rushed past him, grabbing some of the shirts.

“Papa, no! These all have the tags on them. Everything! Everything in here is new and unused. It was supposed to be my surprise to you when you came home. My mind is just...I’m sorry. I forgot all about it.”

His face softened as he took everything in. It was everything my man loved. Everything he talked about on the phone that he was missing out on. Anything he talked about while inside was right here waiting for him. Years of stocking up, exchanging sizes as he continued working out. It all paid off.

“You’re too sweet.”

He pulled down gray shorts and a white t-shirt. After hanging the few shirts I grabbed, I watched as he ripped open a pack of socks, grabbing a pair before doing the same to a pack of beaters. Our eyes found each other’s as he took my hand, bringing me inside of the bathroom where K4 was sleeping peacefully.

The floor was freezing cold as I came to a stop. Without being told to, I stripped my clothes before grabbing a scarf and bonnet for myself. I grabbed a bonnet for him too. We both stood in the mirror naked while tying our hair up. I dreamt of small moments like this for years. Routine. Normalcy. Now it was being overshadowed.

Walking to the shower, I stepped in first. The water came on softly as he stepped in behind me, remaining in the back. He watched me do each and every step of my thorough shower routine. My signature smell quickly filled the bathroom. I didn’t feel exposed or nervous. It felt regular having my husband watch me go over my coochie with a razor.

Once I finished, I turned towards him. We’ve made eye contact several times tonight, but only once like this. Like when I spun around on his dick earlier, and we looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Anxious to have each other. Excited to love on one another.

My stomach squeezed as I yearned to have his mouth on mine again. To my surprise, he reached forward and picked me up into his arms.

His eyes started at the rim of my bonnet, trailing over my eyebrows, to my eyes, my nose, my lips, my chin. He stared at me like it was his first time. Worse, he stared at me like it was his last. I breathed in sharply as his thumb swiped one eyebrow and then my lips, down to my chin. Turning so he could pin me to the wall that was once behind him, his lips pressed into mine.

I melted in his arms instantly. My baby pressed my body into his, kissing me desperately. A sigh of relief blew out of his nose and onto mine. He was so happy to be here with me. But in every act of intimacy, anger was present. He’s not letting that go. He just can’t help himself after five years.

He’s going to leave.

Before I knew it, he put me down onto the mat outside of the shower. Without looking my way, he slid the door shut, standing beneath the water. I slowly turned, grabbing my robe and tying it while staring in the mirror.

Shit was moving too fast, on my mama. I didn’t have a chance to check in with myself. Get my head in order. Like, what the fuck am I going to say to explain me at that club? Explain why I was dancing in that section with my pussy showing?