Page 23 of Own It

It was only after I remembered that he sort of saved me from Ayan that night at the party—realizing Rakim didn’t come off as the assaulting type—was I able to doze off.

“Good morning.” An older black woman with a warm smile greeted me as I sat up, confused. “I didn’t know what you’d like, so I made a big platter.” She set down a tray with waffles, eggs, sausage, bacon, fruit, toast, and orange juice. “Coffee?”

“No. I don’t drink coffee. Do you um, have cold chai tea?” I tried my luck since the woman was clearly ready to serve.

“Sure! I’m Cynthia, by the way.” She beamed down at what I was sure was a perplexed and befuddled expression on my face. I could only nod woodenly in reply. “Be right back with that.”

Like she said, Cynthia returned with my iced chai tea, and like the food, it tasted amazing. I hadn’t expected to be fed home-cooked meals and have my coffee or tea order taken, so I was extremely caught off guard.

As I finished up my chai, the door to the bedroom flew open, and in walked Josias and his identical twin brother, who I hadn’t been able to get the name of. They looked exactly the same, only Josias’s locs were blond at the tips, and his brother’s weren’t.

“Oh shit! You old girl’s cousin!” Josias pointed as his brother closed the door for some reason. I didn’t like this shit at all.

“I’m her boss, actually. We aren’t related,” I replied, noticing Josias was grinning while his brother surveyed me with a more serious stare.

“Told you she was fine as fuck.” Josias patted his brother’s chest. “He didn’t get a good look at you at the party, so he was asking Rah. This Zaire, my twin.” He turned to me to explain as if I gave a fuck.

I wasn’t exactly in a ‘meeting new people’ mood.

“Oh.” I feigned a chuckle, feeling awkward.

“You into trains?” Zaire asked, and I couldn’t believe this was the first sentence out of his fucking mouth.

“Do you mean the actual locomotive because there is no way you mean any other type,” I shot back out of reflex but immediately shut my mouth, praying they didn’t try some shit or, worse, tell Rakim and he punish me for being rude to his obnoxious sibling.

“Nah, he means was you trying to get fucked by me and my brother,” Josias clarified. “I mean, only if you want. We ain’t gotta take no pussy, lil mama.”

Before I could reply and light into their asses again, Rakim entered the room, exuding a power over everyone like he always did, I noticed. I even found myself quieting down and waiting for his next move or word, like a loyal subject.

“Cynthia,” Rakim called out, and the older woman sauntered in, grinning. She made her way over to me and took my tray of now empty plates, used silverware, and drinking glass. “You niggas get out. Told y’all not to come in here. Hardheaded asses.” Rakim rocked his head toward the exit of the bedroom.

Josias and Zaire complained but fell in line, leaving out of the room behind Cynthia.

“Thank you,” I said, feeling slightly stupid for thanking him for anything. “The food was really good.”

“You can use the bathroom over there. Towels are in the warmer, and it’s some generic soap too. Ain’t the time to be picky no way,” he responded, completely ignoring my kind gesture that he didn’t even fucking deserve.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” I stood from the bed.

Declining to respond, he tugged the door open and left.

Shaking my head, I waltzed into the large and luxurious en suite that put my own nice ass bathroom in my home to shame. I talked shit about Rakim as much as I wanted to, knowing he wouldn’t know or hear as I brushed, flossed, and used the mouthwash that was all laid out for me in fresh packaging.

I found it odd and alarming that the brands were the exact ones I used at home, since homeboy told me not to be picky. Maybe he was only speaking on the bodywash.

Hopping into the shower, I soaped up with the generic but good smelling soap. It smelled of forest trees and vanilla, too potent to get close to my vagina so I just used water down there.

Stepping out of the shower, I was startled to see a pair of tights and a large graphic T-shirt hanging on the back of the door, mainly because it wasn’t there before I’d gotten into the shower. I was so wrapped up in the warm, powerful showerhead and my thoughts that I must’ve missed someone coming into the bathroom and putting clothes on the door.

I didn’t like that. In this situation, I needed to be alert and keep my head on a swivel. Failing to see someone invading my privacy was a lesson learned. From now on, I would work overtime to be sure my eyes stayed peeled.

“Damn,” I mumbled, realizing the clothes fit perfectly. The pants were comfortable, and the oversized shirt had the right amount of extra space.

Leaving the bathroom, I descended onto the bed and split my hair into two sections before knotting up one side and braiding the other into a Dutch braid. Once finished, I repeated the action on the other side to prevent it from matting while in captivity.

As I did so, my mind traipsed into Rakim-land. He was so mysterious, but interesting and alluring at the same time. From the way he commanded attention without a word as if he were Michael Jackson in concert, to the way he supplied the bathroom with my exact lineup of preferred oral products.

Then I pondered on how callous and rude he was to me, yet his sole reasoning for this kidnapping was because of the love he had for his cousin. It wasn’t every day that people committed crimes for the people they loved. So, though I wanted to paint Rakim as a terrible ruffian, I knew there was some compassion and feeling underneath all of that.