Bria hated to end the conversation. Dough was like her favorite sweater. He provided her comfort whenever life started to feel overwhelming for her. He was rough around the edges, wild, and carefree but he also seemed to care about Bria. His interest in her wasn’t just sex. Dough asked her about her dancing and even attended a few of her performances. He’d send flowers and voice messages that got her through tough days. The thought of not having him caused her throat to pang but she couldn’t be the girl who cheated on her husband.
After pondering for a few moments, Bria walked out the bathroom.
“Are you ready to get dressed?” Cecilia asked. “Your father will be here soon to escort you down the aisle.”
Bria forced a smile on her face, hoping she didn’t showcase the sadness dwelling inside her.
“Yes, I’m ready.”
Lo’s shoes tapped against the cement floor as he opened a door. He walked through and approached another door. Punching in a code, the locks unlatched, and he opened the vaulted door. Heat swarmed him as his lips curved upward. Shit like this evoked a sinister bliss that he couldn’t put into words. His target laid on the steel table with his chest heaving in a slow fashion.
“You straight, Poe?” Lo asked, knowing this man was anything but good.
Sweat literally leaked from his pores, creating a puddle under his body. The temperature in the room was one hundred and ten degrees. His lips were cracked with dry skin peeling off. Lo was intrigued. This was low level torture for him. Restricting Poe from having water while upping the temperature in the room was pure torment.
“Please,” Poe begged just above a whisper.
Lo shook his head and walked over to the counter. Rummaging through the drawers, he found a thermometer. He headed back over to Poe who was now whimpering.
“Open your mouth, fam.”
Poe parted his dry lips, and Lo placed the thermometer under his tongue. After twenty seconds, it beeped, and he read that his temperature was 101°.
Lo whistled. “You will stroke out, eventually. Shit you might even go into shock.”
“Come on, bro. I’m suffering,” Poe cried with no tears since he was too dehydrated to conjure up any.
“I know. I made sure you were suffering. Your muscles are probably cramping. You’re dizzy and nauseous. You’ll start hallucinating soon then, eventually, you’ll be put out your misery.”
“Just kill me!” he shouted.
Lo smirked. “I would but as you can see…” He looked down at his attire. “I gotta go get married.”
“Bruh, come on,” Poe groaned. “This don't need to be.”
“You were working with the opps, and you know we don’t go for that shit. And to top it off, you fucked with Jay’s fifteen-year-old daughter. You were supposed to be his soldier, and you violated his trust. Nigga, you about to suffer for that bullshit. Stop all this whining. You earned this shit.”
“Man, I’m only twenty-one.” He gulped. “That ain't that much of an age difference. Plus, she’s lying. Her ass was trying to flirt with me.”
Lo bobbed his head. “You’re right. Six years ain't shit. Let me go turn the temperature up six degrees since six years ain't that much.”
“Nooooo! A’ight, Lo! I was just bullshittin’! Come on, fam!”
Lo walked over to the thermostat and turned the temperature up. Niggas like Poe disgusted him. Fucking with teenage kids while they weren’t in their full-grown mind would always trigger him.
“I’ll come check on you tomorrow, my guy.”
“Lo! Looooo!”
He drowned Poe’s cries out with the slam of the door. After picking up his tux jacket, he left the building, hopped inside his Porsche Cayman, and drove away. The wedding was taking place at Douglas’ estate. Lo literally didn’t put any say so in the ceremony because he didn’t care. He just wanted to show up, exchange vows, and move on with his life. The wedding was for Bria, not him.
When he arrived, there was someone directing traffic into the estate. Lo pulled in and parked in the circular driveway. Shutting off the engine, he grabbed his phone and sent Devyn and Meco a text for them to come to his car. Within minutes, they walked out the house, dressed in black tuxes with a black bowtie. Lo’s tux was black-on-black with a black shirt underneath.
“Why you just now getting here?” Meco asked, slapping hands with him.
“I had some shit to handle.”
Lo lifted the middle console, grabbed his blunt, and lit the end.
