Page 10 of The Prettiest Outlaw

Dolton, who was a pediatric surgeon by trade and had spent years developing his bedside manner, read the room. He saw through the frown on my face and pulled me into a tight hug.

“What?” Langston questioned. “What the fuck did I say?”

“You’re cool,” Dolton assured him, continuing to hold me close.

Langston huffed out a sigh. “All I was trying to say was that we miss your little short ass.” He patted my shoulder roughly. “On Thanksgiving, you cut out early. Then on Christmas, you were a no show. That kind of shit worries Jia and me. We feel like you’re pulling away from the family when all we want to do is close ranks. We can’t close ranks with you on the outside, Short Cake.” He sighed again. “Gianni left the responsibility of keeping his girls safe on Dolton and me. I can’t keep you safe when I don’t know where you’re at… or where your head’s at?”

“My head is all over the place,” I admitted. “I’m still hurting. I miss my daddy every single day. There is not one day that I can get through without thinking of him, wanting him, and missing him. It’s hard, Langston. I spend most of my time trying to keep my head above water. Jia and Jianna have you and Dolton. Do you know who I have?”

Langston’s face was soft. Well, as soft as it could be. “You have us. You have your sisters, your brothers, your nephews and nieces… ”

“Not in the same way.” I took a deep breath and removed myself from Dolton’s embrace, even though it was so comforting. “Sometimes being around you guys makes me feel lonelier.”

My voice was just above a whisper. I had never said that out loud. “For three long years, I’ve kept that fact to myself and just thugged it out. But I’m tired, Langston. I’m tired of faking and fronting. Seeing you all be happy makes my heart sing. I love that my sisters have found love, but it does remind me that I haven’t.”

“Who the fuck knew you were looking for love?”

There went Langston being Langston again.

“Shit, I thought you was out here sticking and moving, not trying to be tied down by no bitches or no niggas.”

“I get it.” Dolton’s expression was thoughtful. “I definitely remember feeling… some kind of way when Dominic and Dorien had wives and I was still single. I mean, I didn’t really want a wife, but them being so happily coupled up did make it glaringly obvious to me that I didn’t have what they had. They would be going to the crib to be with their families, and I would be going to the crib to be with the silence.”

I wrapped my arms around Dolton’s middle and hugged him because he had actually put into words my exact feelings. He patted my back gently while the three of us stood there in silence.

“What can I do, Short Cake? I would turn the fucking world upside down for the Outlaw girls. You standing here in front of me with this look on your face and these tears in your eyes. My wife moping around the fucking house because she don’t know what’s going on with her baby sister. What can I do? How can we fix this?”

Before I could respond, Langston spoke again.

“You want me to… arrange something for you? Like how Gianni did Jia and me? How he tried to do Jianna?”

A bark of laughter erupted from Dolton. “An arranged marriage? You don’t really want an arranged marriage, do you, Juli?”

“Shit. You ain’t gotta marry the nigga. Maybe y’all can just arrange companionship.”

Since I could tell that Langston was sincere, I didn’t act up behind his question.

“Nah, I’m good onarranged companionship. I definitely don’t want that.”

“You wanna get married, Short Cake? You want a committed relationship?”

“I just want to not be lonely every minute of the day,” I whispered into the wind.

“Tell me what you want me to do. I’ll start vetting niggas tomorrow.” Langston had that determined look on his face.

“Look, as her brother-in-law, I’ve gotta speak up.” Dolton turned to me. “If you’re even considering this, we need to start with a whole new group of candidates. Because the motherfuckers that Gianni had lined up for Jianna… absolutely fucking not.”

“Short Cake?”

“I don’t know, Langston.” The conversation had managed to zap the little bit of energy I was trying to save for the fundraiser. “Let me think about it.”

If this night was indicative of how the year was going to go, I already knew that I could throw the whole damn thing in the garbage.

* * *

Two weeks into the new year, and things were still off to a lackluster start. After being accosted by my brothers-in-law about an arranged marriage, I was currently dealing with a bit of what I could only refer to as seasonal depression. The dreariness of January was already weighing on me—already making me crave a vacation when I had just gotten back from one.

“This year is sucking already,” I moaned.

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