Page 127 of Deuce

Still, at least I could be there with her.

I got out of the car and popped the trunk to grab the groceries when I noticed her car wasn’t there but her mom’s was. I frowned as I headed up to the front door and knocked. A few seconds later, Mrs. Navarro opened the door with a smile.

“Hey, baby. Let me help you with that.”

“I got it, Ms. Karen.” She stepped aside to allow me entry. “Where is Salima?”

“Well, I know she had to pick up schoolbooks and do a little shopping for supplies. She didn’t say whether she would be back.”

“She’s supposed to come back. I told her I was cooking for y’all tonight.”

I pulled out my phone to call her but it when straight to voicemail.

“Can I see your phone?” I asked her mother.

“Sure.”

She pulled it from her pocket and handed it to me. I dialed the number and Salima answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Mommy.”

I frowned. “This isn’t Mommy. Where are you? I told you I was gonna cook?—”

“Stanley, I told you I needed space. You wouldn’t leave, so I did.”

“Bet.” I hung up and handed the phone back to Mrs. Navarro. “Your daughter is too stubborn for her own good.”

She giggled as she led me into the kitchen. “She’s got it honest. Her father was a stubborn thing, too. Sometimes they think they know what’s best, but they could be wrong.”

“She tried to break up with me.”

Mrs. Navarro shook her head. “Give her some time. She’s still traumatized. Alot happened. She was missing for three days. Who knows what else happened in the warehouse that she isn’t talking about?”

I sighed heavily as I began unloading the groceries. “How am I supposed to be there for her if she won’t let me, Ms. Karen? I love her. I’m not trying to hear that break up shit— excuse me, stuff.”

“Just continue to show up for her like you’ve been doing. Keep loving her. She’ll come around.”

I nodded. I needed her to come around and come around quick. I wasn’t the most patient man and being in love only made it worse. Maybe the attachment I had to her wasn’t healthy but fuck that.

I ended up staying with Mrs. Navarro and cooking her dinner. We ate and cleaned the kitchen before I packed up my bag to leave. I’d put Salima a plate to the side with every intention of taking it to her to make sure she ate. After checking her location from her mother’s phone, I headed to her apartment. My cousin, Jaleel, the family doctor, gave her some medicine to help her relax, and that shit put her out.

Figuring that she was asleep, I checked the camera feed in the apartment. Sure enough, she was laid out in bed, knocked the fuck out. It only took me fifteen minutes to get to the building. Grabbing the food, I headed up to her floor. Using mykey, I quietly entered. After kicking off my shoes and placing the food in the fridge, I strolled down the hallway to her bedroom.

The door was slightly cracked, so I pushed it open and stepped in. For the longest time, I stood there watching her sleep. She kept groaning and twitching like she was having a bad dream. That shit fucked with me. Did something else happen that she wasn’t speaking on? Did Mirron do more than exposed his nasty ass to her? If that was true, I’d wait until that muthafucka was reincarnated or meet him in another life and kill his ass again.

Damn, I might be a more than a little crazy,I thought to myself.

Fuck it if I was. I held Salima in the same regards as my family. Fucking with them was a death sentence.

“No… no…” She groaned as her head thrashing about on the pillow.

I wanted to comfort her, but I’d probably give her a heart attack. Instead, I watched until she settled back into a peaceful slumber before making my way out of the room. I headed for the guest room, where I took a shower and crawled under the covers to lay my ass down. It was barely nine.

Any other time, I’d be at one of the lounges, on a job, fucking with some female, or getting into some shit with my siblings. Tonight, I was right where I needed to be in case she needed me. What if she had another nightmare or a panic attack? She didn’t need to be alone.

I was sure she’d call Shar, but the fact was, Shar wasn’t her nigga. She couldn’t do for her all the things I could and would. If Salima wanted space, the only space she was getting was from one room to the next.

I wokeup from some much-needed rest.

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