Page 57 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings
People were damn sure invested based off the engagement. By the time we ended the live, I had hella new followers, and my DM was jumping with questions and comments. It was crazy scrolling through and seeing all that shit populate in real time. Brick Facetimed me not too long after we ended our video, and I picked up.
“Damn, you eased right into that shit.”
“You make it easy,” I said with an eyeroll.
“So where you want me to take you?”
“Surprise me.” I pushed my lips together, trying to act like I was still annoyed by him.
On the flip side, he was kind of growing on me.
“Tomorrow, dinner around six?” Brick suggested. “I’ll come pick you up.”
“Okay,” I agreed.
“Bet.” A rare smile graced his lips, quickening my pulse.
He was not supposed to have that effect on me. Shaking my head, I tapped the button to end our chat and set the phone on the table beside my bed. I got comfortable, turning the bedside lamp off and snuggling up to one of the pillows. Now I was too anxious and nervous to sleep, thinking about going out with him. The minute I started to doze off, I heard a familiar buzz in the nightstand drawer.
I didn’t have many friends back in Omaha to begin with, but my TracFone was still on. When I first arrived, it was pretty much dead, and I didn’t need to bother with it. Earlier today after it charged, I just tossed it in the drawer and walked away. Sighing, I reached in to pull it out and squinted in the darkness at the screen. Seeing Skully’s name made my stomach knot up. I rejected the call, but he hit right back.
“Leave me alone, Skully.”
“The fuck you think this is, Six? You think you can just walk out and not pay what’s owed?”
“Go get it from them bitches that jumped me. I’m done. I’m out.”
“You done when I say you are, bitch!” he spat vehemently. “I want my money, and I want it in forty-eight hours. Don’t think I can’t get to you. You ain’t as slick as you think you are. You can run, but you damn sure can’t hide. So I suggest you start using any resources you got to come up with my product or the five racks to cover it.”
“Fuck you!”
His evil ass laugh filled the line. “Funny you mention that. I knew it wasn’t gon’ work out with you on the block. So I made other arrangements for that virgin pussy. You worth more to me that way. So either bring your ass back here willingly, or I force you back. Either way, you gon’ pay for that fuck shit.” The line beeped when he hung up.
Rolling over onto my back, I stared into the darkness, heart thrumming so loud I could hear it in my eardrums. I was sick of this shit! Darlene was the reason I was in this position. She’s the one who drilled into me when I wanted to go to college that I had to earn my place or find somewhere else to go. I knew the minute his beady little eyes danced over me that I would regret not choosing to leave when I had the chance. Hands shaking and stomach bubbling anxiously, I tried to push his threats out of my mind. Shutting the phone off, I tossed it back on the table, deciding I would get rid of it altogether. I didn’t need any traces of my old life anyway. Staring off at the moonlight bouncing off the wall ahead, I did my best to go back to sleep. Oak Bluffs was going to be a fresh start for me, and I wasn’t about to let anybody stand in the way of that.
The next day…
“Six, it’s Sol.” There was a tap on the other side of my door while I sat with my clothes spread out on the bed, wondering what the hell I was wearing on this date tonight.
Hands on my hips, I went to answer with hair rods in my hair so I could have a wavy curl look. Suddenly, none of my clothes were good enough. I hated that Brick had me overthinking everything. Truth was, he made me nervous as shit. I was a hood girl through and through. Never pretended to be anything other than that, but trying to look like I belonged with a man like Brick was stressing me out. With a garment bag draped over her arm and a separate matching Louis Vuitton carry-on bag in her hand, Sol grinned and rushed inside.
“I talked to Brick. He told me what’s going on. Well… the short, very ghetto Brick version anyway,” she tittered. “He told me you might need some help finding something to wear, so he sent me right over.” She paused at the bed and saw my many pairs of jeans, vintage t-shirts, and flannel shirts.
I didn’t have nothing fly or stylish. My style was basic and country. Since I was a little girl, I’d been sexualized by men, some that came from my very own bloodline. I preferred to cover up than leave myself exposed. I always heard the older women like my mama saying little girls were fast around the way or men came at us because of how we dressed, and that shit forever stuck with me. It wasn’t logical, and it damn sure didn’t excuse a mothafucka from being a pervert, but I decided I didn’t want to take my chances. In the long run, I found out that it didn’t matter what you wore, a pervert was going to be just that.
“As you can see, I am fashionably challenged,” I muttered, biting one of my nails anxiously.
She moved my clothes to the side and spread the garment bag out then unzipped it.
“Why don’t you try one of these?” Sol pulled out a few dressers still on the hanger.
All of them had the tags on them, and I saw designer names like Cavalli, Calvin Klein, and Vera Wang. One of those was priced at my entire current wardrobe. The halter-style, purple Valentina mini dress caught my eye. It was sexy but cute, and if I got cold, I could throw on a jean jacket over the look. Sol went through the bag she set on the foot of the bed and pulled out different pairs of heels and other accessories. Grabbing the hanger for the purple dress, I held it up to my frame.
“I thought that one was cute too. It goes good with your skin tone.” Sol smiled. “And these shoes.” She held up a pair of clear, pointed-toe Alexander McQueen heels that went perfectly withthe number. “He also sent you this.” She grabbed a small square box, the kind jewelry came in, and cracked it open.
“Shit, are those real?” I gasped, admiring the sparkling diamond earrings inside.
“Hell yeah!” Sol snickered.
