Page 48 of It's Love I'm After

My fists slam into the dude’s mouth before he can finish his statement, causing the other patrons to shout and gasp at the disturbance. Commotion and feet charging toward our direction penetrate my ears. However, my attention is on the man who wrote a check his ass shouldn’t have attempted to cash.

*whap, whap*

Punching the man twice more, I grit my teeth when he sloppily throws his fists up like he’s about this life.

“You a punk. How the fuck you?—”

*whap, whap*

Hitting him twice more without breaking a sweat while he’s wasting time talking, all I see is red and the desire to kill him for spewing such hateful words about my woman. Feeling several hands tugging at my arms, I attempt to shrug them off until someone jumps in front of me, shoving me backward.

“Chill, G man. You’re a fucking professional with shit to lose. Go to my office and cool the fuck off,” Jarrod demands.

Coming down from the red haze I’ve been in for an unknown time, I turn to our table only to find it empty.

“Where the fuck is Cha-Cha?”

“My woman took her to the bathroom to calm down or whatever women need to do after seeing their men beat a nigga’s ass. Now go. I’ll handle this bullshit,” Jarrod informs me in a deadpan tone that doesn’t broker an argument.

Jarrod owns a small restaurant called It’s Good and Moody, and it had been the perfect place for a meal with my lady. Jarrod is a chef, and his dishes are inspired by family members with his flare added.

“Go on, bro. I got you,” Jarrod encourages, snapping me out of my thoughts, and I move after giving the dude one final glance.

“Bitch ass,” I grumble.

“That wasn’t quite what I had in mind when you suggested we enjoy a meal out,” Chaniya speaks, causing me to shift my gaze from the sky to her.

We’ve been at my crib for the last two hours, and things have mostly been quiet between us. The silence has been good for me because I’ve used it to completely release the aggression the fight caused within me.

“I’m sorry, Chaniya. I should have handled the situation better. It?—”

“I didn’t have a problem with you defending me. I only left because I needed a minute to cool down. Nobody has acted so violently about me before. My hormones were buzzing louder than the stings your hands were causing his face.”

A sinister grin slides into place, and my gaze intensifies along with the twitching of my dick once my brain registers her words.

“Note to self . . . Beat a nigga’s ass every once in a while, to keep things spicy. Bet.”

“He was one of the guys I slept with the night Caleb was created,” Chaniya informs me, breaking our heated stare.

“I figured as much from the bullshit he was spewing.” Heat fills my ears, and my blood simmers with fire at the memory of what had been said without shame.

“Going to that house party not only changed the trajectory of my life but it cemented my mom’s hatred toward me. What’s worse is Jeff, the jock whose ass you beat tonight, is who invited me. He and I met when he helped me avoid a second accident when someone hit my car and fled the scene. I got more than I bargained for by allowing Jeff, Spencer, and Wally to slide between my legs that night.”

“Spencer? Wally?” My nose twists, and my eyes tighten at the cornball names Chaniya has spoken.

“Mhm. Spencer isn’t black. Wally is mixed, and of course, Jeff is black. Somehow, the three had me thinking I was living out a fantasy I didn’t have.”

An image of Caleb pops into my mind, and I automatically rule out Spencer because Caleb’s features don’t lend way for Spencer to be his father. This leaves the other two, and based on the dude’s complexion and the other guy being mixed, it could be a toss-up if I had to guess. Fuck that. Caleb is my damn son! Neither of those men will ever change that.

“After what happened tonight, I’m perfectly fine with none of them knowing about Caleb. Being in Jeff’s presence again made me think about what type of parent he would be, and I’m good on all that. I’ll continue being a si?—”

“You’re a mother, for sure, but single, you’re not.” I interject before she can finish the statement that no longer applies to her.

Hell, if I have it my way, Caleb won’t be fatherless this time next year.

“Should I have said something about Caleb’s existence to Jeff tonight?”

“Before or after he got off the ventilator?”

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