Page 12 of Kassir and Rebel
“Let’s go,” I utter after glancing back at him over my shoulder.
He simply smirks, then follows. He rushes to the door, opens and holds it as I walk out. We walk to the back of the building then head toward a G-Wagon.
The G-Wagon. He finally got his dream car.
As much as I can’t stand him right now, a part of me wants to smile because I know how much this means to him. On many nights, while I lay in his arms, he talked about this very vehicle. The minute I climb inside, I take it all in. Every detail is precise, and although I know this isn’t the latest model but a classic, it looks brand new.
As I buckle my seatbelt, he eases into the driver’s side. He glances over at me before starting the engine and I turn my head toward the window. When he pulls off, I find the lever under my seat, let it back, then prop my feet on the extended wood trim on the dash. The move is to piss him off but it doesn’t land.
He merely chuckles, then says, “Get comfortable.”
“Where are we going?” I fire back, annoyed.
“I want to show you something,” he says before pulling onto the street.
“I thought the purpose of this drive was to talk, not go sightseeing. I’m not trying to spend all night with you. I’m tired and have things to do tomorrow.”
“I just want a little of your time.”
“But you don’t deserve any of it.”
“You got that.” He quickly agrees with me, to my surprise. “I won’t keep you out too late.”
He drives down the street then turns right. I have no idea where he’s going or what he wants to show me, so I keep my eyes forward, trying not to look over at him, and ride in silence. The quiet is deafening but I endure it. Clearly, it’s bothering him though because his hand reaches up to the screen and he presses the satellite radio icon. Some rap song blasts from the speakers and he quickly drops the volume. Three rap songs laterand we pull up to the shopping plaza off Richards. He pulls into a reserved spot in front of a barbershop.
“Is there a reason why we are here?” I ask.
“Yeah,” is all he says before shifting his ride into park. He turns off his headlights then turns to face me. “The last time we were together?—”
“You broke my fucking heart,” I interject, correcting him.
“I know I did, baby, and I regret that shit every fucking day.”
“What? You what!” I damn near scream.
My feet drop from his dash and I sit all the way up. Although I have tried a million and one times to push that night out of my mind, I remember every fucking heartbreaking detail, especially his words, and he said plenty. The one word he never said was regret though. Not once so to hear it now is surprising to say the least.
“I fucked up. Really fucked up but you gotta know I had my reasons. Things were too much back then. The shit with Ralph’s bitch ass and the Bedford Boys was gritty as fuck. You remember that week before? We had to bury Little Roc and Wiz because those fuck niggas rolled up on them. Things were hot, and shit, they were gunning for me too, which put you in danger and I wasn’t having that shit at all. I couldn’t let you get caught up or hurt because of my shit and the life I was living.”
“I was deep into this street shit and you… you had just graduated with your degree and had your whole fucking life together. You had job offers from CFU, that school in Atlanta, and in Miami, and because of me, the only one you were even looking at was CFU. Too close to home and too fucking close to me and the shootings. I wanted you safe, away from me and all this shit, but you wouldn’t listen. No matter what the fuck I said, you were dead set on staying here with me.”
“Because I loved you and thought you loved me,” I utter and hear my voice crack. His words have placed me right back in hisold apartment, in his room, on his bed, staring at his phone with the text message that ended us.
“You know I loved you; shit, I still do. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. That’s why I did what I did,” he has the nerve to say and I glare at him.
“You fucked Linnea because you loved me? Please. What type of fool do you think I am?” I scoff, then shake my head. “You can take me back home if that’s the bullshit you needed to tell me.”
“Ay, Rebel. You had to leave Diamond Falls. That’s the only way I knew how to keep you safe. They were gunning for me and Leem and the shit was out of hand. Look what happened to him and Yahzi. If you didn’t go to Miami, that could have been you. You think I wanted some shit like that to happen? To you? To my fucking heart? You know what would have happened if it had? There would have been zero fucks given and the streets would have been lined with bodies,” he grits and I hear his anger loud and clear. Although I had already left Diamond Falls, I definitely heard about Suleem and Yahzi. They were getting some food one night and two Bedford Boys rolled up on them and opened fire. Suleem got hit a few times and Yahzi got hurt, really hurt. She was pregnant and lost her baby. I also heard the two shooters were buried a few days later. “You getting hurt or me losing you wasn’t a fucking option, so I did the only thing I knew would make you leave.”
“You fucked another woman and you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I utter while shaking my fucking head.
“You were alive. No fucking bullets were fired at you. You were in Miami, away from here and safe, and that was more important to me,” he says, as if that shit is better. Tears I hadn’t felt forming in my eyes fall when I blink and he reaches over to wipe them but I quickly turn my head, face the window, and wipe my own damn tears. “That shit made sense to me then. I didn’t know what else to do. You wouldn’t leave; that seemedlike my only fucking option. I didn’t know what the fuck else to do. We had just argued about the shootings again and you ended shit with me. So I went out, got fucked up, and even had some static with Ralph that night. I convinced myself that I needed to do something to get you to leave here. I saw Linnea; she was there and you know what happened.” He sighs heavily.
“I definitely know what happened. I was there with you a few months later when she texted you her fucking pregnancy test. I saw that shit on your phone and that’s how I knew not only had you cheated but you got the bitch pregnant. Do you know how fucked up that was? My fucking heart felt like it was ripping out my chest. You hurt me, broke me,” I croak out between my tears. My emotions are all over the damn place and the hurt feels as fresh as it did six years ago. “Please…take…me…back,” I plead.
“Baby—”
“Please,” I beg again. “If you don’t, I’ll jog back,” I say, then grab the door handle.
