by Mercy B
“I believe you, Sosa.” And I did.
“Good, now take your ass to sleep. You done wore a nigga out.”
“Goodnight.” I chuckled as I felt him pull me closer. In his arms, I felt at peace.
Chapter 6
Gauge
“G, I need to make a run.” Darkness was everywhere as I stirred from my slumber to a fully dressed Sosa. Since the night I’d come to his home three weeks ago, I hadn’t left.
“Why?”
“Because I’ve got some shit I need to handle. You gon’ be good?” Concern was etched in his tone. Even in his toughness and rugged edges, Sosa was so attentive to my needs or even the thought of them.
“I’m tired.”
“I know. Go back to sleep.”
We’d stayed awake all night, exploring one another’s bodies as if we hadn’t been for the last month. Sosa had the type of dick that strung you out and stressed you out if he ever decided to remove that shit from your life. I’d met the man only five weeks prior and knew that I’d die a slow death if he ever denied me of his dick. His persona was even more addictive, holding me captive as if he were practicing mind control over me.
But what felt the best was the reciprocation. I wasn’t the only addict in the house. Sosa demanded my presence and desired me just as much as I did him. He was slowly getting through the awkwardness of companionship, but he was doing well. My only concern was his willingness to speed into our situation rather than walk slowly. However, our thing still felt damn good.
“Sosa,” I called out as I felt him vanishing. Near the bedroom door, he called out to me.
“What’s up? You need anything before I leave.”
“No.”
“Then what’s up?”
“Come back to me,” I declared. Honestly, I didn’t want him to leave. He never left in the middle of the night, always at my side when I decided to scoot over or toss my limbs over him.
I rolled over, expecting to hear his footsteps creeping out of the door, but they came closer. Sosa hurried to the bedside and flipped me back over onto my back.
“What did you say?”
“I said come back to me.”
“Fuck it. I’m not going anywhere.” I heard him wrestling with his clothes before climbing back into bed.
“What are you doing? I thought you had a run to make?”
“This may sound crazy.” He rotated my body until I was facing him. Through the darkness, I could only see the white of his eyes and teeth.
“I’m sure it won’t. What is it, baby?” I was exhausted, but Sosa’s sudden disinterest in handling his business had me concerned.
“For the last few months, I’ve been having the same dream. It always ends with me getting smoked. Before I left the house, my wife—who I have in the dream—has parting words for me. Guess what they are?”
“I love you?” My brows furrowed.
“Come back to me.” He sighed. “That shit you just said.”
“Get out of here.”
“For real. And guess what her name was?”
“What?”
“Millie.”
“Mili? As in what my friends call me? As in my middle name?”
“Yes. And I’ve been leery about this little meeting all fucking day. I feel like your words were forewarning me of some shit that could pop off.”
“Sosa, you’re scaring me.”
“Nothing to be scared of, G. You always trying to get up in this head of mine, so I’m letting you in. Go back to sleep. I’m going to be right here.” Sosa pulled me into his chest and planted his hand in my hair. He was aware that head rubs, as well as booty rubs, put me right to bed.
Sosa
“Gauge. I’ve got shit to do. Call one of your homegirls and have them come through for you.”
“No. I was very specific in my request, Sosa. I want you to come with me.” I watched in defeat as Gauge pranced around the bedroom in a pair of panties. As she pulled her shirt over her head, I lost track of my thoughts.
“Whoever go with you, I know you’re not wearing that shit.”
She’d been bringing clothes over each time she came to my house for the night. I’d cleared a section of my closet and was sharing my dresser with her now. Shit was changing for me, and I couldn’t say that I regretted allowing her into my space… into my life. It was taking some getting used to, but it felt natural. Like she belonged here all along.
“Reach in that top drawer and get a damn bra.”
“You don’t wear bras with shirts like this.”
“Then choose another shirt.”
“Why? You afraid someone going to get a big idea and come for what’s yours?” She thought everything was a joke.
“Na, I don’t want you moping around the house ‘cause you were the cause of a nigga getting his top let back.”
“Well, we will just have to see.”
“G, stop playing. I’m dead ass. Get a bra or change shirts.” She ignored me and began pulling up the gray tights she had laid out on the bed. “And you think you wearing them shits with ya ass and stomach out? You ‘bout to get somebody bodied. I swear.”
Gauge had picked up a few pounds, thanks to the good grown man dick I was breaking her ass off with every night, morning, and any other chance I got. I could tell she was feeling herself because her clothes were a bit more revealing, or maybe it was because the changing of the weather. I didn’t know, and neither did I care. Something would have to give, or somebody was getting killed.
“You know what…” Standing from the bed, I tossed my shirt over my head and headed to the closet to retrieve a pair of jeans. Business would have to wait. I’d rather skip a meet up than plan a homicide behind G.
“Put on your shoes. We’re not staying in the galleria all day. I don’t even shop at the fucking mall.” The thought of being around so many motherfuckers was maddening, but I wasn’t sending Gauge out alone.
“Now you’re not going to start rushing me because you’re upset.”
“Gauge, if you know what’s best for you, you’d chill.”
“Or what? You gon’ cry?”
“Na, I’m going to give you something else to do with that big mouth of yours.”
“Just say the word, Papi, and I’m down. Literally. On my knees. Mouth open. Throat waiting. Spit conjuring. Pussy dripping. All that.”
She was such a freak. As smart as she was, she was the nastiest woman I’d ever encountered. Sometimes, I considered knocking her ass up just to claim that pussy for at least the next eighteen years. Gauge was the type of woman you expected to have mediocre skills, possibly a bit above average. Yet, she amazed me each time we were intimate. There had been several times she’d made me tap out, lulling my ass to sleep like a newborn.
“You could barely walk this morning. I suggest you chill and bring your ass on.”
“So feisty. I’ll buy you something. I promise.”
“With my money? Oh. Big shit.”
Gauge had awakened to a purse filled to the brim with stacks, yet she still wasn’t satisfied. Giving her the money wasn’t enough. It was my time that she required, opting to pay for her own graduation fit if it meant me going shopping with her. In the end, she’d be getting money and my time, two things I’d vowed to never give a bitch.
“It is the thought that counts. I could always spend it all on myself.”
“Trust me. You ain’t spending all that in one trip to the mall.”
“Try me.” She smiled. “There is Gucci inside The Galleria, Sosa.”
“Believe me. You not spending all of that shit in one setting.”
“How much did you really give me?” She faced me, now concerned.
“Enough to get you through the next year of shopping with your habits.”
Gauge didn’t require much. She was simple. The only expensive piece she had was a pair of Balenciaga sneaks. Besides that, her wardrobe was lightweight.
“Stop playing.”
“I’m s
erious. You ready or what?”
“How much is in that purse, Sosa?”
“Each stack is a thousand dollars, Gauge. I’ll let you figure that out.”
“There’s tons of them in there. That’s a big purse. I know you didn’t.”
“I did. Now, let’s go.”
“Maybe I should leave some here, put some up for safety measures.”
“If a nigga even steps close to you, I’m blowing his ass off. Don’t put nothing up. You good.”
Gauge
There were fifty stacks in my purse. Fifty. Ten hundred-dollar bills in each, wrapped in a rubber band, and connected to larger stacks that equaled ten thousand dollars each. Even with all of the money in my purse—that Sosa considered as my graduation gift—he still came out of his pocket to purchase my things each time we went to the cash register. Of course, I’d only spent a measly three hundred dollars before we were both ready to go. I’d found the perfect dress and Steve Madden pumps to match. I stopped by Victoria’s Secret and got a little thank you gift for Sosa, courtesy of his pockets as well.
“See. That wasn’t so bad, huh?”
“It wasn’t, but I’m starving, G. Let’s see what’s up with this sub shop.”
Sosa led me into the brightly lit sub shop. As we stood in line, we both began surveying the menu to see what we’d be eating. The blaring of a cell phone caught my attention for a second, but I refocused once realizing it wasn’t mine or Sosa’s.
However, I was startled by the baritone greeting the caller on the other end of the phone. I knew that voice from anywhere. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight in the air as I recalled the many days it had rung loudly in my ear. Justin. I’d been with him enough years to identify his voice out of a crowd.
While the first few years of our relationship were peachy, the final two were hell. It began with verbal abuse that stemmed to mental and then physical. The final straw was when Justin pushed me down the stairs of my dormitory while a freshman in college. After that, it was a wrap for us. He was the main reason I decided not to live on campus anymore. Seeing him every day was agonizing, especially watching him descend after our breakup. Within a year, he’d quit the football team and had dropped out.
“G.” Sosa had been calling my name, and though I’d heard him all three times, I couldn’t respond. My mind had traveled to a faraway place. Bizarrely, the fear that I experienced as a teenager came to the forefront.
“Gauge.” He raised his voice, causing Justin to twirl in search of me. He didn’t have to look for long, because I was right behind him.
With a menacing smile, he nodded his head. “What’s up, Gauge?”
“Shit.” Sosa didn’t give me a chance to respond, as if I could, anyway.
Justin’s eyes followed the length of Sosa’s frame until he reached his eyes. I shuffled my weight from one side of my body to the other, praying that both men behaved themselves. Justin obviously didn’t want the confusion Sosa was ready to bring to him, because he stood down.
“Pay attention, nigga. You up next.” For so many reasons, I felt as if there was an underlying meaning to Sosa’s heads up.
When Justin moved up in line, Sosa grabbed my arm gently and led me toward the back of the restaurant. “Who is he?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Who is he, G? I’m not feeling the way you tensing up around this nigga. I’m ready to rock his ass to sleep. Tell me. Who is he?” Sosa didn’t miss a thing. The damn man paid too much attention to detail.
“He’s my ex-boyfriend, Sos.” I referred to him by the pet name I’d given him.
“Him being an ex ain’t a good enough excuse for you to be so uptight around him. You nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard his voice. What did he do to you?”
“Sos…”
“You want me to trust you…” Leaning down, he gritted in my ear. “Tell me what this nigga got you scared for.” I lifted my head, and he stared into my eyes and waited for a response. “If you are going to lie, I swear you can find a way back home, and I’ll have your things brought to you. I have a zero tolerance for liars, G.”
“I wasn’t about to lie,” I admitted. “He… uh. He was abusive. I broke up with him because he pushed me down a set of stairs, and I broke my hip.”
First there was pain.
Then there was sadness.
Next was disbelief.
Afterward was anger.
The final look in Sosa’s eyes was unbearable. The stoned expression caused me to worry about his mental stability. I reached for him, but he snatched back, causing me to catch the button of his shirt.
“Please. Let’s just go.”
“Na, G. Gone head to the car. Here’s the valet ticket.”
“Sosa.”
“Don’t say my name, G.”
“Listen. It was so long ago. I’m fine now. Everything is good.”
“You scared of that pussy ass nigga. Ain’t shit good on my end. When you’re with me, there ain’t a motherfucker on God’s green earth that should be able to pump fear in you. If I’m not willing to be the one, then no one else will stand in the way of your peace either. Here. Take your bags and go get the car.”
“I’m not leaving, so—” I halted. “I’m not leaving.”
“Then you can watch me drop this nigga then.”
Soundlessly, Sosa pulled his pants up on his waist before stepping back over toward the counter. Justin had ordered his food and was waiting in line for it to be prepared. He had no idea that he was in some deep shit, and I was silently praying that Sosa took it easy on him. Not for his sake but for mine.
“Say, my nigga,” Sosa started. “Let me holler at you right quick.” He was fuming but attempted to remain calm.
“I’m getting my food. Whatever you want, I’m sure it can wait.”
Before speaking again, Sosa chuckled. “Na, partner, this is an urgent matter. Either you walking out this bitch with me, or I’m dragging you out this bitch. Either is cool with me.”
“Say what?” Justin questioned with a smug look on his face. His eyes darted over to where I stood with questioning eyes.
“I’m the one to focus on, player. Don’t even look in her direction. I’m really doing too much talking. Either you coming, or I’m bringing you myself.”
“I ain’t going—”
Wham.
Sosa rammed Justin’s head into the glass that protected the customer’s food as the workers prepared it. It reminded me of the glass caging that secured the food at subway. I cringed, swallowing the huge lump in my throat at the sound of it.
Justin slid to the ground like a limp ragdoll. The store manager ran from behind the counter in an uproar. Leaving Justin on the floor, Sosa tended to the manager, who was in his personal space.
“Ain’t shit to drop you too. I suggest you stand down, amigo.”
The Spanish gibberish he began chanting was the least of Sosa’s concerns as he began to drag Justin out by his shirt.
Quickly, I followed behind them to see where Sosa was headed. When we reached the escalator, I understood where this was going. I prayed to the heavens that I’d been smart enough to remove Sosa’s gun from his waist when I realized he planned to confront Justin for his wrongdoings. The first move he made was for his piece.
Noticing it wasn’t where he’d left it, Sosa’s head whipped around until our eyes locked. An eternity elapsed as we connected on a million more levels than we had before. Silently, we communicated what we’d both been attempting to disown—the love we shared for one another.
Lifting his size twelve feet, Sosa pushed forward and sent Justin flying down the escalator, causing anyone in his path to lose their balance and tumble with him. Without a word, Sosa grabbed the bags from my hand and started for the exit.
Thankfully, valet hadn’t parked the car in the garage. It was posted outside by the large fountain for spectators to admire. We got inside and sped into traffic. The agonizing silence was c
ausing frustration in the worst way. The minute I realized we were headed to my home instead of his was when I decided to speak up.
“Why are we going to my house?”
Sosa remained quiet, not even preferring music to fill the empty space. There was no need in asking him the same question, because I knew he wouldn’t answer. At this point, it was best to let him be. When he was ready, he’d give me the answer I needed.
Ten minutes after the initial question, we were pulling up at my place. I was the first to exit the car with Sosa hot on my trail. It didn’t matter how upset he was with me; he was always the perfect gentleman. He toted the bags inside after I’d unlocked the door.
“Give me my piece,” he fussed.
“I will once you tell me why you’re upset with me.”
“I don’t have time to play these childish ass games, G. Give me my shit so that I can roll.”
“Sos, you need to chill. I haven’t done anything for you to be so upset with me.”
Within seconds, he’d rushed to my side. He’d been all the way across the living room, on his way out of the door. I watched his nostrils flare as my pussy thudded, waiting for his next move. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in me, knowing that Sosa would never do anything to harm me physically. He’d lose his mind if he did.
“You wanted this shit.” There was a disturbance in his voice.
“What are you talking about, Sosa?” I didn’t understand what he meant.
“You got exactly what the fuck you wanted. I fell right into your little sick ass trap. Played your game and gave your little spoiled ass your way.”
“You’re going to have to be more specific. I don’t—”
“You wanted me to fall in love with your stubborn ass, didn’t it?”
His tone was menacing with hues of disgust tagging along through his delivery. This wasn’t what he wanted. It was written all over his face. My heart threatened to beat its way out of my chest as I stood in silence, not sure how to respond.
While I’d expected to be basking in the afterglow of his confession one day—under less stressful circumstances—I was wishing that I’d never entered the wrong number that day. But even the thought of never encountering him pained worse than knowing his preference wasn’t to love me.