Page 135 of Certified To Handle You 2

I had been parked here for almost fifteen minutes, but I still hadn’t made myself get out.

Couture knew I was comin’, and he had already texted me twice askin’ if I was downstairs. I told him I was on my way up, but every time I reached for the door handle, the same guilt settled back into my stomach and made me sit there a lil’ longer.

The last five days had been some of the longest I ever experienced.

After we got Couture out of that trunk, he asked me more than once how whoever did that knew where my mama stayed. Every time he asked, I told him the same thing. I told him I honestly ain’t know, and maybe the situation had somethin’ to do with me gettin’ shot months ago. There was probably muthafuckas still connected to that shit I ain’t know, and for all I knew, somebody had been watchin’ me longer than I realized.

I hated lyin’ to him, but I ain’t know what else to do.

I couldn’t look Couture in his face and tell him the truth. I couldn’t tell him there was another nigga who had been in love with me, and I had been sleepin’ with that nigga while Couture thought we was buildin’ somethin’ real. I damn sure couldn’t tell him Renza had flew all the way out here, found his apartment and put him in the trunk of his own car ‘cause I called Couture a better man.

Couture wouldn’t have understood none of that shit, and honestly, he shouldn’t have had to.

He ain’t know Renza existed, and that was the part that made everything worse. Couture had been dragged into some shit he never volunteered for, and the only reason he was involved was ‘cause he had fallen in love with me.

I kinda felt like he ain’t fully believe the story I gave him, but he ain’t press me the way I expected him to. I could tell he was tryna put everything together without lettin’ me see how much it had affected him. He had been quiet since it happened, and every now and then, I would catch him lookin’ at me like there was a question sittin’ behind his eyes that he ain’t figured out how to ask.

His pride had taken a hard hit.

There wasn’t no easy way for a man to move past bein’ found tied up inside the trunk of his own car. Couture had been jumped by two masked niggas with guns, and there wasn’t much he could’ve done without gettin’ his self killed. I told him that more than once ‘cause I knew what was sittin’ in his head.

He wasn’t weak ‘cause he chose to stay alive. He had two guns in his face, and fightin’ back just to prove he was a man could’ve left him dead before anybody even knew he was missin’. I tried remindin’ him of that whenever I saw him lookin’ embarrassed, but no matter how many times I said it, I knew none of it changed how the situation made him feel.

Couture had always carried his self like a man who could handle whatever came his way. He protected his family, took care of his business and never acted scared of much. Now he was movin’ different ‘cause two strangers had walked into his home and showed him how quick somebody could take control away from him.

He started keepin’ a gun in his car. There was another one inside his apartment, and he moved it from the room to the livin’ room dependin’ on where he was sittin’. He checked the parkin’ lot before gettin’ out his car, watched anybody who stood tooclose to the entrance and kept lookin’ toward the door every time somebody walked through the hallway outside.

He refused to move, though. Couture said he wasn’t leavin’ his apartment ‘cause two niggas decided to make him feel unsafe there. He said movin’ would mean they won, and he wasn’t givin’ nobody that satisfaction. I respected that ‘csuse even though what happened had shaken him, he wasn’t lettin’ fear run him out of his own life.

Even though the thought of Renza knowin’ where Couture stayed kept me up at night, I knew he wasn’t comin’ back for Couture unless I gave him another reason.

That should’ve made me feel better, but it didn’t. It only reminded me that all this shit was in my hands. Renza had sent a message, and I understood every word without him ever explainin’ it.

He could reach anybody around me…

He could come into my city, touch whatever I cared about and leave before I even knew he had been here. He wanted me to understand that no matter how far I tried to run from him or how much peace Couture gave me, Renza could still step into my life and tear that peace apart whenever he felt like it.

I wanted to text him so many times. Not ‘cards I missed his ass or wanted to fix some shit between us, but ‘cause I wanted to tell him he went too damn far. I wanted to tell him Couture never disrespected him and ain’t even know he existed. I wanted to ask what kind of nigga dragged somebody into a war they ain’t know they was fightin’.

Every time I opened Renza’s name, I stopped myself. Respondin’ would give him exactly what he wanted. He wanted me pissed off enough to call. He wanted to hear my voice, even if I was cussin’ him out. Any reaction from me would’ve reminded him he still had a way in my head, and I wasn’t givin’ him that satisfaction.

That was why I called Toni instead.

“I still can’t believe that nigga did that,” Toni said through the phone while I stared toward Couture’s buildin’. “He really put that man in his own trunk and dropped him off at Auntie house.”

A laugh exploded somewhere behind her, and I already knew exactly who it belonged to.

“Tell Kay’Lo that shit ain’t funny,” I said while rollin’ my eyes.

Toni pulled the phone away from her mouth. “Kay’Lo, shut the hell up. Ain’t nothin’ funny about what yo’ stupid ass cousin did.”

“I ain’t say nothin’,” Kay’Lo called from the background, even though I could still hear amusement all in his voice.

“You laughin’,” Toni shot back. “And you need to be worried about takin’ yo’ damn medicine on time instead of laughin’ at Renza kidnappin’ people.”

That shut Kay’Lo up so fast that I almost smiled despite everything.

Toni came back to the phone and let out a frustrated breath. “Anyway, when I see Renza, I got some words for his ass. That shit was way too far.”