Page 23 of My Brother's Keeper
“First step is denial. Nigga you’re not going to make it in the Zoo. Get in here,” Diamond said as he shook his head.
As soon as I stepped inside, Diamond wasted no time slamming an old ass newspaper on the table. “Look, I told Chev to let me holla you. I want to show you something, come sit.”
I tried stretching my neck to see what was on the paper as I walked over. “Sit yo goofy ass down and read it,” Diamond spat.
I walked over and sat down as my eyes landed on the paper.
Alverez Blanco was arrested for the murder of Kima Blanco.
Mr. Blanco murdered Kima Blanco, his wife, in cold blood. The couple had been going through a domestic dispute when Mrs. Blanco decided to try to escape. Allegedly, their only child, Diamond Ricardo Blanco, witnessed the incident. Sources say when they arrived on the scene, their son was nowhere to be found.
When investigators questioned Mr. Blanco about why he committed such a brutal crime, he responded that he had been drinking for days and blacked out.
My head rose as I stared at Diamond. “What does this have to do with me?”
“It means your past doesn’t determine your future. My father killed my mother after drinking. You think that was the first time he put a bottle to his lips. He beat her ass all the time,” he paused. “I’m saying just because your father was an alcoholic doesn’t mean you need to be. Just because you have problems that you may not want to share with us, there are different ways to handle them. Therapist, group meetings, hell, your brothers. However, this shit is only going to lead to something irreversible. I watched you under the influence. Nigga your mouth gets real bad, your attitude is shit, and no telling what you would do on one of your good drinking days. That bottle is either going to lead you to a grave or behind bars. Here, I found this AA group, and I think you should check it out,” he finished as he handed me a pamphlet.
I snatched the paper from his hand as I shot up from the couch. “I don’t have a fucking problem, and none of you OG niggas know me. None of you has been through the shit I have!” I snapped as I headed for the door.
“If you don’t get help, you don’t have to worry about being a part of the Zoo any longer. I get it, you don’t want us to know, but we do. You claim I’m trying to be the hero in your story, but how can I be a hero to a nigga who doesn’t even know his own story? Figure it out or get the fuck out,” Chevy finished.
I glanced down at the pamphlet again before I walked out. Everyone thought they knew what was best for me, but all they were doing was showing me that my liquid lover was the only one who cared.
I waited outside as the porch light came on. I should have called, but my mind had been off since Bishop told me that shit about Kareem. When the door opened, my eyes slowly rose to Mison standing there. “I need someone to talk to,” I mumbled.
He reached out and lifted my chin, “You been crying?”
Right on cue, a tear slid out of my eye. “Yes,” I whispered.
His hand glided from my chin up to my cheek, catching my tear. He gripped the back of my head and pulled me into his arms. “I got you. You need to vent, I’m here cause a nigga sure needs to do the same thing,” he replied.
When I stepped inside, I noticed how dark it was, and the smell of weed lingered throughout the house. “Why are you in the dark?”
“Going through some shit. Hold on,” he said before the lights came on.
He led me into the living room, where a bottle of whiskey and an ashtray with a blunt sat. I turned to look at him, “What’s wrong?” I asked.
He slid my jacket off me as he planted the softest kiss on the nape of my neck. “Your issues are much more important than mine. Sit and tell me what’s going on.”
I nodded as I made my way to the plush couch and sat down. Mison came over, sitting next to me, allowing me to lay my head on his bear chest. I thought talking about how I felt would be easy because he knew nothing about me and could listen with ears unclouded by judgment, but my tears beat me to it. His strokes on my arms were comforting, his heartbeat steady and soothing, and being in his presence was everything I needed.
Peck to the forehead. Another then another.
My head lifted slowly as my nose swiveled in his neck. Mison glanced down at me, then smiled, “You're even prettier when you cry,” he mumbled before he kissed me.
I sucked in air as I granted his tongue access to my mouth. A moan escaped me as his hands found their way to my breasts, gripping them gently, letting his thumbs caress my nipples. “Ooo,” I moaned.
That’s when I felt my body shifting backward with him on top of me. “I got you. This shit is like a dream come true,” he whispered as he gazed at me.
“Is it?”
He nodded as he stroked my cheek. “Hell yeah.” He smiled.
His finger circled my lips before I took it in my mouth and sucked on it. When he pulled it from my lips, he stuck it in his mouth. He removed his finger and crept it into my sweats, moving my panties to the side and sticking his finger into me. My mouth opened to moan, but his lips landed on mine before I could moan. The way his finger played with my pussy sent my body into an arch form. The waving motion before he circled my clit sent a sensation through me, sending my eyes back. “Goddamn!” I shouted.
My hand gripped his wrist as my hip thrusted along with our motion. “A nigga sees you, Symphony. A nigga feels you too. Cum for me, baby,” he whispered. “It’s me who makes you feel good. Me, Mison.”
“Ooo,” I moaned as my eyes opened. “Fuck me,” I muttered.
