Page 131 of Just Listen
For the first time in life, I was going through real shit, and couldn’t tell a soul about it. There was no way in hell that I was going to tell anybody that Malice was responsible for Claro’s death. Then there was still the looming threat of Paisley’s family. It was all too much, and I guess that Malice could feel it too, because he refused to leave me alone.
Ever since I’d learned the new information, he’d been stuck on me like white on rice. Hell, I couldn’t cry, if I wanted to, because he would be right there, wanting to know what the tears were about.
What I think was most shocking, even for myself, was the fact that it hadn’t changed how I felt about him. For a brief moment, I thought that maybe it would, but the moment he slid between these thighs, all was forgotten. Without a doubt I was still in love, and I was beginning to believe that absolutely nothing could change that. And that had me feeling extreme guilt.
I could only imagine the ways that made Zae feel. At one point, we claimed to be in love, and now, I was with a man who was responsible for him nearly dying. If the shoe was on the other foot, that would unquestionably change my heart towards him, and I was sure that he felt the same about me now.
Of course, for obvious reasons, I hadn’t tried to reach out to Zae again, and he hadn’t tried to call me. He’d given me that warning and that was it. Then, after knowing what I now knewabout Malice, I figured that it was no point in telling him about those threats. Because it wasn’t going to change the course of things, anyway.
I had accepted that things were out of my hands, and there was nothing I could do to talk either of them down. I also completely understood why. For Zae, it was about getting revenge. For his friend and himself. With Malice, he couldn’t afford to leave a viable threat roaming around. And it would be naïve of me to think that things would go unanswered.
That’s why I was sitting in my sister’s salon, surrounded by chatter, but hadn’t heard a word that anybody was saying. I simply had too much shit on my mind. Then I kept avoiding eye contact with Riah, whenever she’d try to give me signals.
I’m sure that she was wondering why I could no longer come to the shop alone, and it was probably throwing her off with the way Malice had chosen to sit right beside me the entire time, versus waiting outside, like most men would usually do.
Low key, I think that he was sitting there to make sure that I didn’t get to saying too much. He’d made it clear that he didn’t want me sharing any of our latest dilemmas with anybody. So, until he felt comfortable, he literally wasn’t giving me the opportunity to have any sidebar conversations.
“Malice, are you getting your hair retwisted, since you’re here?” Riah questioned, while placing a wig cap on her client’s head.
Over the last few months, he’d been getting his hair tightened up there at the salon.
He shrugged. “Yeah, I can.”
“Well, Shondra can probably take you now. One of her clients cancelled.”
Malice hesitated, looking like he wanted to decline, because if Shondra was in the next room doing his hair, then he couldn’t sit there and babysit me. “Bet.” He eventually nodded, before standing up.
I sat watching him step out of the room, before me, my sister, Kema, and their clients snickered a bit.
“If that nigga aint acting like Sin J, right about now,” Riah grumbled, while bucking her eyes.
Right then, I knew that my sister really wanted to vent, because she rarely talked about her man around clients.
“So, he hasn’t been letting you breathe, neither?” I queried.
“Nope.” She popped her lips. “Ever since fight night, and I was saying that I’d leave—”
My eyes ballooned. “You wasn’t serious, were you?”
She sighed. “Probably not. I was mad. Anyway, now, he’s been following me every damn where.”
I smirked. “Well, at least he didn’t come here.”
“Tuh,” Kema sputtered. “That nigga is in the back, taking a nap.”
“No-uh,” I tittered. “These niggas are a fucking mess.”
“Yes, indeed. They say y’all Braxton girls aint nothing to play with,” Kema claimed. “Personally, Ion want nothing that’ll make me act like either or those niggas.”
“Right?” Riah snickered, before her cell rang. She then stepped back, and grabbed it. “Yes, Keyasia?” She answered. “No, why?”
Riah’s eyes traveled to me.
“What?” I questioned with a frown.
Still staring at me, she briefly paused.
“Here.” She extended her phone to me. “I’ma let her tell you.”
