Page 163 of Invisible Bars
“Well, she can talk for herself, Imanio!”
“Hell, she tried to, but you cut her off!” I yelled, my voice echoing off the walls.
“Well, what’s wrong with her anyway? What she said—and the way she was twitching—that’s not normal behavior! Don’t tell me she’s one of those AI clones or glitching robots they keep trying to pass off as real people nowadays! Were you really that desperate, son?”
My anger spiked so fast it felt like the room got smaller.
Dessign saw it… so did my father. Even Naji felt it—her small hand gave mine a soft squeeze, a silent plea. But not even that could tame the beast in me.
For the first time, I let go of her hand; not because I was done protecting her, but because I was about to handlemymama.
“Oh no. She done woke up the sleeping Glock,” Dessign said with wide eyes.
Our father stood up slowly, not in protest. He just knew I could go from zero tofuck-it-allwhen pushed the wrong way. Giselle was aware, too, but usually she wasn’t the one on the receiving end to feel my wrath—not to that extent.
I stepped closer to her, every bit of me controlled but lethal.
“Don’t you ever in your fuckin’ life try to reduce my wife to some malfunctioning machine just because your cold ass can’t process someonedifferentthan you. She’s not a liability. She’s not a prop. She’smine, and she deserves to be treated with some muthafuckin’ respect. You always do this shit—act like your money, which really isn’t your money, gives you the right to speak on everybody’s flaws but your own. Before one word left Naji’s mouth, I’m sure you were looking for a flaw the second you saw her! I’m starting to believe you think belittling folks makes you powerful. If you have that dumb ass theory, let me be the one to tell you that it doesn’t; it just proves how damn small you are.”
I pointed at Naji without taking my eyes off my mama.
“You think her silence makes her soft? Nah. That girl’s stronger than all three of them bougie ass muthafuckas who ran outta here like scared rats. Naji has walked through storms that would’ve broken you—in heels or in prayer.”
Giselle’s eyes flared. “She embarrassed herself at?—”
“She has a fuckin’ condition!” I roared.
I felt the veins bulging along my neck, my chest rising and falling in tight, heated pulls of air.
“Tourette’s, if you want me to be more specific!” I added. “So no, she can’t always help what comes outta her mouth!”
Giselle flinched, but I didn’t stop.
“But what’syourexcuse?” I snapped, eyes locked on hers, blazing. “Because last time I checked, you spit venom with full control; every word measured and intentional. So what’s the diagnosis forthat, huh? Is it just plain misery? Or are you simply abitch?”
I hated to call my own damn mama a bitch, but it was true, and I was over her shit.
The room went dead silent.
I saw it coming before she did it—Giselle’s hand rising for the slap she thought would land. I caught it mid-air, fingers wrapped tight around her wrist.
“You gotta be quicker than that,” I gritted coldly, eyes narrowed.
Giselle froze, breathing hard, eyes wide with disbelief and fury.
I stepped closer, fully facing her now.
“You don’t like my wife? Fine. That’s your business. She’s not here to win you over. But if youeverdisrespect her again... if youevermake her feel like she doesn’t belong... you’ll lose me. And not just for a night or until either of us calms down… butfor good.”
I dropped her wrist.
Giselle stared at me, stunned. Her lips trembled like she couldn’t decide whether to yell, cry, or apologize.
I leaned in slightly, voice quieter and crueler.
“And trust me,Giselle, you don’t wanna know what it’s like to be cut off by someone withmylast name.”
I saidmylast name for a reason—because the way my father talked that day at my crib, it was clear he wouldn’t be sharing it with her much longer.
