Page 43 of Turned Out by His Hood Mentality 3

I felt around the chair I had been sleeping in and grabbed my phone. There was a missed call from my sister, Twinkle, and Billionaire’s mother. I clicked out of that and pulled up the app on my phone that showed footage of the exterior of the house. All my husband’s cars were there, which meant that he was home. I groaned, already knowing I would have to feel him for running off and doing what he thought I would not do.

I sat all the way up in the chair and stretched. Then I stood up, folded the throw blanket, and set it in the seat. I slipped my feet into my slippers, picked up my phone, and went into the small, half bathroom in the theater room to release hours’ worth of urine from my system. When I finished, I went over to the sink and washed my hands.

I stared at myself in the mirror, studying the lines on the side of my face from the good nap I’d just had. My eyes were still a little red, holding that sleepy look on my face. I removed my ponytail and ran my hands through my hair, knowing I would need to wash it tonight. After looking at myself in the mirror for a good two minutes, I walked out of the bathroom and the theater room then closed the door behind me.

A good bath and to just let my body soak were what I needed. I took the stairs up and checked the kids’ room. When I saw Khari, I was surprised because I just knew that Denim would’ve raised hell about not wanting her daughter to come to my home. I didn’t think there was anything that anyone could ever do to get Denim and me to get along. It was something about her spirit that I just didn’t like. Her entire vibe was just wrong.

I understood that Khari was her daughter, and I would have been mad too if my child had gone missing. I wouldn’t have handled it the way she did, calling me all types of bitches and whatnot, right in front of Khari. The anger she unleashed on me earlier today was deeper than Khari running off while she was in my care. Denim had a deep-rooted hatred for me, which is why she was coming at me so hard.

I walked further into Khari’s room and kissed her on her cheek. This little girl gave me the scare of my life this afternoon, but I was just glad she was there. I eventually left her room, then went across the hall and checked on Lil Bill. He was in his room as well, sleeping on his stomach. His stocking cap covered his long dreads, and the controller for his Xbox was in bed with him, which let me know that he fell asleep tonight, playing that game. I stood there, admiring him for a few short moments, and then I closed the door behind me.

I took the long hallway leading to our master bedroom, and before walking in, I released a sigh. I pushed the door open and saw Billionaire in the room, sitting at the foot of the bed with his shirt off, his gym sh

orts on, and the remote in his hands as he looked for something to watch. He didn’t even look at me; he just continued doing what he was doing with the TV.

My eyes left him and landed on the dresser, which held all my jewelry that he’d taken off me earlier today. That my husband wouldn’t even look at me, let me know he was pissed, so I wouldn’t even try to spark up a conversation with him. I walked over to my side of the room and pulled out some panties and pajamas from my drawer to put on after my bath. Usually, I would put on one of my husband’s shirts after I finished bathing, but he would probably snap on me and tell me not to touch his clothes.

When Billionaire was mad at someone, he could be petty as hell. I mean, look at what he was still doing to my father’s church. He had every right because my father had pushed him there. If you drove by my father’s church during the day, there would be protestors out there, trying to get his building shut down. Initially, the church was still packed, looking the same as it looked a year ago, but these days, if you pulled up his service, there was nowhere near as many people in his church.

Once I had the items in my hands, I walked into the closet and put my sandals down. I wanted so badly to talk to Billionaire, but I knew he was mad, and I didn’t want to push him.

By the time my bathwater was ready, I had the lights dimmed in the bathroom because that was the best way to take a bath. My music was softly playing as I finally stepped out of my clothes and lowered my body into the massive jacuzzi styled tub. Billionaire didn’t even bother to come into the bathroom, and I’d been in there for thirty minutes. I can’t even remember the last time I took a peaceful bath like this because if my husband and I didn’t bathe together, he would still come in, sit on the edge of the tub, and talk my ear off about something.

I sighed, unsure of where to begin with him because that man’s temper was through the roof. I took a nice bath, even washed my hair, and then I was finally out. I did my nighttime skin routine, applied my body butter, and then I slipped on my nightclothes. When I finally joined my husband in bed, and I got comfortable on my side.

Billionaire had the TV on old Western movies because it was something that he liked to watch, but also something that I hated. He was on his side of the bed, lying on his back, with his head propped in his hand. I could see it in his body language that he was still angry. As angry as I knew he was, I still crawled over and attempted to lay with him, but he pushed me back.

“Nah, bruh. Don’t touch me. On some real shit, Normani, a nigga not even fuckin’ with you like that right now,” he said and moved over so he wouldn’t have to feel me touching him.

I blew out my breath, taking the remote from the middle of the bed and turning the TV off. I used the other remote that controlled the lights in the room and turned them on because we needed to talk. When I did that, Billionaire stood up from the bed, and I could tell he was about to walk out of the room.

“A nigga ain’t trying to talk right now, Normani, if that’s what you cut the light on for. You had the chance to talk to me, but you ran yo’ ass off. You talk about that Mexico trip freakin’ you out every fuckin’ chance you get, yet you hop yo’ ass in an Uber with a fuckin’ stranger. Watch out, man, before I hurt yo’ feelings,” he said and walked out of the room.

I put my house shoes back on and followed him.

“I shouldn’t have left, Billionaire, but I was mad. On top of that, I was embarrassed. Everybody already knew that Khari was missing, and by then, it was a scene, so everyone knew that I’d lost her. I know you say that I shouldn’t care what people think of me, but how do you think I felt with everyone pointing the finger at me? Thinking that your own wife can’t even properly watch your kids when you’re not around? That, and I let Denim get under my skin like I always do,” I said as he walked down the stairs, but he was still ignoring me.

I was right on his heels, prepared to follow him wherever he was going. We made it to the kitchen, and he pulled open one of the drawers where he stashed some of his weed and his lighters, so I knew he was about to go outside and smoke. He got the items and headed for the patio door. I was right there, ready to go outside with him.

“I’m about to smoke. Stay yo’ ass in the house. I don’t know why you following a nigga, Normani! The same way you ran yo’ ass off because you needed some space, well, I need the same shit right now! Watch out,” he said, and then he went to open the back door.

“Didn’t you just have space? I just came back around you! You so mad at me that you not even trying to see where I’m coming from. I get mad at you sometimes, but I never push you off like this to the point that I don’t even want to be around you. Why are you doing this? Baby, just stay inside, so we can talk,” I said and grabbed his arm, but again, he pushed me off him.

“Watch out. I need some weed in my system,” he said, and this time, I just let him go.

As badly as I wanted to go out there, I knew he would be madder if I went out there pregnant, and he was blowing smoke in the air. Feeling defeated and like I didn’t know what to do, I went into the den and sat down, tucking my feet under me. From where I sat, I could see Billionaire perfectly. My hands went for my stomach because Prosper was in there, kicking up a storm. I rubbed my stomach as I watched my husband pace around the pool. Usually, it would take him about a good ten to fifteen minutes to smoke, but tonight, I felt like he was out there purposely taking his time.

About twenty minutes had passed, and I didn’t see smoke anymore, so I stood up, prepared to go outside. I slid the door back and stepped out. He was sitting in one of the chairs under the gazebo. I made it over to Billionaire and stood right in front of him.

“I don’t know how else to tell you that I’m sorry—”

“Then stop saying the shit, Normani. A nigga is just having a hard time understanding your logic from earlier today. Do you realize that you still bring up Mexico? Like, did you fuckin’ forget that a few nights ago, I caught you crying because of that shit? Yeah, Khari ran off today, but we found her! You broke down when you couldn’t find her, and you ain’t gotta say it, but I know you broke down the way you did because of what happened to you in Mexico! With all that, you dip the fuck out and leave with somebody who could have succeeded at the job this time and sold yo lil’ ass into some sex trafficking bullshit for real this time! Me taking that jewelry off you wasn’t the fuckin’ green light to run yo’ ass off. I was daring you to try me, and you tried a nigga. Is this shit clicking to you yet? Do you realize that something could have happened to you and my fuckin’ baby?” he barked at me.

I couldn’t even use the fact that the Uber driver was a woman in my defense because it was a woman in Mexico who got me caught up. All I could do was nod my head because he was right. I should have just waited, and at the very most, I probably could have called my mom or my sister to come and pick me up from the party.

I slipped my house shoes off and climbed on the lounge chair that he was sitting in and got behind him. I scooted up close, so my stomach was pressed into his back, and I wrapped my hands around his waist, kissing his muscular back. That went on for about five minutes, and in those five minutes, he didn’t even attempt to show me any signs that I was slowly winning him over.

I stopped kissing him and got off the lounge chair, then went in front of him and dropped to my knees. A few weeks ago, my husband and I were watching a movie, and in one of the scenes, the woman was giving the guy head. Billionaire commented, “That’s a nigga’s weakness.” It hit me then that my husband is always giving when it comes to pleasing me, and I’ve never dropped to my knees and gave it to him. I had thought about it on so many occasions, but I was just too scared to do it.

---