Page 8 of Obsessive Love
“Get in the car,” he instructed. His deep voice rolled over my skin like a tidal wave, and my panties instantly flooded.
“Sir,” I started and shook my head. “I don’t know you, nor do I take orders from any nigga.” I looked over at his car and rolled my eyes. “I’m not interested.”
“You already chose your fate, Fable, and said you didn’t want to die,” he said with a shrug.
I stepped back for two reasons: one, he shouldn’t have known my name, and two, the more he spoke, the more he sounded familiar. I didn’t know him, but I’d heard his voice before.
“Choose my fate?” I questioned him, and he nodded in response. “Nigga, are you crazy?”
“Yes,” he answered without blinking, and I knew he was telling the truth. “You can thank Javien for this.” His eyes swept over me in appreciation, and then he shook his head. “You just cleared his debt.”
“What?” I laughed and shook my head. “I don’t know what the fuck Javien told you, but it’s not happening. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home.” I stepped past him and reached for the driver’s door handle just when shots rang out, and air hissed from my tire. “What the fuck?”
“Get in the car, or the next one goes to your pretty ass head,” he said into my ear.
The sound of him cocking his gun echoed through the empty parking lot, and I knew that whatever my punk-ass brother dragged me into was going to change my life forever. But one thing I was not was a punk. Javien owed this nigga, not me; he would have to collect that money from him. I quickly turned around, raised my arm, and sprayed him in the face with my mace.
“The fuck?” he yelled, covered his face with his hands and stepped back. “You fucking maced me!”
I used that as my chance to make a run for it. I pulled open the car door, jumped in, started the engine, and pulled off. I didn’t give a fuck that my tire was flat. I’d ride this bitch until the fucking rim sparked.
I didn’t let out the breath I was holding until I watched my garage door close, and even then, I was still a little unsure of my next move. “Come on, Fable, you’re okay; you got this.”I stared at my reflection in my rearview mirror and nodded. “Fuck Javien and whatever bullshit he’s into. That’s not your problem.” I took another breath, nodded, and exited the car.
When I left the house this morning, the moon shone brightly in the sky, and now it was doing the same thing. I’d been working my ass off for years to get my bakery off the ground, and with the help of Yamari, I was starting to get my shit together. The last thing I needed was to be dragged into some shit because of Javien.
I kicked off my shoes as soon as I walked into the house and dropped my bag onto the counter. The sounds of my two parrots talking echoed through the house, and I smiled. I lived a quiet life and wanted to keep it that way. Whatever Javien's stupid ass had gotten into, he would have to deal with it on his own.
PYRITE
“Let me the fuck outta here!”Javien yelled from my trunk as I rinsed my face with water. The shit burned, but it wasn’t the first time I’d ever dealt with it, and it wouldn’t be the last. I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it from my pants, but didn’t take it off. Then, I grabbed another water bottle and poured it over my face. “Let me the fuck out!”
“Shut the fuck up!” I yelled. “Bitch, be happy you're still the fuck alive right now!” The pounding stopped, and I sat back. The burning had lessened, but I knew that shit wasn’t going to go completely away for at least a few hours.
“Where to, Pyrite?” Albert asked.
“The other address I gave you,” I answered, poured water onto a towel, and put it over my eyes. “Let me know when we get there.”
“Yes, sir,” Albert answered.
During the entire drive to Fable’s house, I thought about the dark-skinned beauty. When I saw her in the bakery earlier, I knew I wanted her. I thought having to kill her brother was going to cause us some problems that we’d have to work through, but after hearing their conversation and with how fast Javien offered her up, I knew that shit wouldn’t be an issue.A smile pulled at my lips at the thought of how she handled my ass. I could see a small amount of fear in her eyes, but she played that shit cool. The fact that she maced me had me ready to marry her ass.
My phone rang, and I swiped at the screen without moving the towel from my eyes. “What’s up?”
“You know it’s not fair, right?” Xoey pouted, and I chuckled. “I wanted to introduce him to my new knife. I had plans.”
“I think you let me win this race,” I replied.
Xoey kissed her teeth, and I knew she was about to say something off the wall. “My daddy said sometimes I gotta let the boys win, something about y’all pride being in jeopardy or something crazy like that. I don’t know, but it sounded like bullshit to me.”
“Xoey plus twelve,” I laughed. “I love you, too.”
“Love has nothing to do with torture, Pyrite.”
“It doesn’t, but I wanted you to know,” I replied. “I don’t think you hear it enough.”
“You dying, Pyrite?” she seriously asked. “It’s the cancer. Did you get it in your prostate? You know niggas never want to get that checked because they think it's gay.”
“Xoey plus twelve, how the fuck did you get that from me saying I love you?” I questioned. “I was trying to be nice.”
