Page 35 of Hellcat Barbies: Imani
“I think you like the Daymir way,” I tease.
“Oh, I definitely do.”
I glance over at her pretty face then place my hand on her thigh. “Good because when we get back to your place, I want both of these long ass legs over my shoulder so I can eat that sweet pussy, the Daymir way.”
“I can’t wait,” she utters.
These past few weeks at the warehouse have been smooth as hell. With all of transport rigs being able to bypass those interstate weight stations, deliveries have been on time and seamless. The orders from our pain management clinics pushing the pills have all been timely. I’ve been able to create a system that keeps the flow of all orders and deliveries steady and concise and Hazel has the girls on normal, work-life balance schedules.
It’s Wednesday and I just left the barbershop. Imani and I are still an us. My day is not the same if I don’t hear her sultry voice, see your pretty face, or touch her soft body. She started her cooking course last week and every Monday and Wednesday she attends classes and cooks up something delicious. Later tonight, she’s dragging me to some hookah lounge, Cloud 9ine. Hookah really isn’t my thing but for her, I’ll go anywhere she wants.
Since I skipped breakfast before I went to the shop, I’m hungry ass hell. So, I’m heading to Redmond’s Soul Food to get some grub. I’m going to need some fuel before I work out.
When I pull into the packed parking lot, my cell vibrates then the call pops up on my screen. It’s the same damn 832number that keeps calling but doesn’t leave a message. My annoyance level has reached its limit, so I answer this time.
“Yea,” is all I say.
“Oh Daymir,” a voice I recognize but don’t believe I’m hearing says.Makenna.“I’m glad you finally answered.”
Real shit, I’m surprised to hear her voice. I know she reached out to my aunt asking about me but I pushed that shit out of my mind. Makenna was a part of my past that I’ve moved on from. I have no desire to go backwards.
“What do you want Makenna?” I grit.
“To talk to you.”
“Why?”
“Because…um…I need to tell you…we just need to talk,” she says, fumbling her words and sounding nervous as shit. She doesn’t sound like the woman I thought I knew.
Although she doesn’t deserve a minute of my time, I relent and say, “Talk. I’m listening.”
“Please, not over the phone,” she pleads. “I’m in town.”
What the fuck?
“Where?” I question because I know she can’t mean here in Crescent Falls.
“In Crescent Falls. I’m staying at a hotel off Broadway Street. There’s a soul food restaurant about three miles from here. We can meet there. It’s a public place. Please, I really need to talk to you.:
“Makenna, real talk, I don’t think you have anything to say that I want to hear. You said it all when you ghosted me and I heard you. Besides, that’s been damn near seven years ago, a different life and time. I’m good on you.”
“Daymir, please.”
“Nah. You have a good li-”
“We have a son,” she blurts out but clearly, I didn’t hear what the fuck I think I did. Silence thick as a fog crowds my ride and I’m at a real lost for words.
We have a son!
When my words manage to come back, I grit, “The fuck you just said?”
She sighs heavily then says in a shaky voice, “We have a son. He’s six. I wanted to tell yo-”
“Makenna, this ain’t no shit to be bull shitting about.”
“I know. He’s yours, Daymir.”
“Where are you again? I’m coming so you can tell me this shit to my face.”
