Page 77 of Just Listen
“Okay. I’ll pull up.”
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, before ending the call.
Gliding my tongue across my teeth, the taste in my mouth had quickly turned bitter.
“So,” he breathed. “Are you gonna try the food?”
I shook my head.
“No?”
“Yep.” I nodded. “I think that it’s time for you to go.”
He leaned his head back. “Go?”
“Yep. Might as well get an early start on that visit tomorrow.”
He licked his lips. “So, I take it that you feel some type of way about that call?”
“Nah, not really. If anything, I’m glad that call came through. Now, I can put some shit into perspective.”
“Perspective?” He frowned. “You do realize that all my shit is still over there, right? My cars. My safes. Shit, my name is on the deed. So, me communicating with her is inevitable.”
I nodded. “Right. I get that. That’s also why I shouldn’t be fucking with you, right now. You have unfinished business to tend to.”
“Not in that type of way, though,” he claimed.
“Yeah, okay,” I responded sarcastically. “And what will you do if you go over there tomorrow, and she tells you that she wants you to come home?”
He exhaled, while shaking his head. “Ion know what you want me to say to that.”
Immediately, the back of my neck grew hot, as I snarled. “And that’s why you need to leave.”
“Leave?”
“Hell, yeah.” I angrily nodded.
“Man, you tripping. I came in, trying to kick it. I got this food. So, I’m trying to feed you, then we can go take a bath together—”
“Well, aint none of that happening. So, you can go grab that bag out of my closet, and move around.”
Obviously nixing me off, he focused on the food, opening one of the containers.
“Oh. You think I’m playing, huh?” I hopped up, and stomped into the kitchen.
I was fuming, as I went into one of the drawers, and grabbed a butcher’s knife.
“Mann,” he drawled, as I spun around, and stalked back to the table.
Venomously, I curled my lips, as I placed the knife to his throat. “Man, what? Huh?”
Malice sat there calmly, like I wasn’t an active threat, and proceeded to bite into a lobster tail.
“Oh, you think I’m fucking playing,” I growled, while pressing the knife deeper into his throat, until it broke his skin.
As he gave me the death stare, I realized that perhaps I’d gone too far. So, I backed up a tad.
