Page 26 of Body Language (Mind, Body, & Soul #2)

“Ohhh bitch, you thought this was a game?” I said, grabbing her by her shirt before she could fall.

I slammed her against the wall so hard the whole damn wall of picture frames slid crooked.

“You think I’m one of your little boyfriends you can talk crazy to?” BAM! I popped her in the mouth again.

She tried to swing back with a weak-ass hit, and I laughed in her face while dodging it. “That’s all you got? Girl, my little sister slap harder than that when she mad she can’t get ice cream.”

Then I hit her again right in the gut. She folded like fresh laundry.

“You been running your mouth for YEARS,” I said, shaking her by her collar like a ragdoll. “Talking down on your own kids like you wasn’t the first failure they ever met.”

“Stop—” she gasped, holding her stomach.

“Nah, bitch. Don’t say stop now.” I kneed her in the thigh. “You wasn’t saying stop when you had Zejah cleaning this dusty-ass apartment and taking care of kids while you was at the casino spreading your legs for free drinks.”

She tried crawling toward the couch, but I yanked her back by her ankle. “Get your ass back here! You gon’ take this ass whooping standing like a woman.”

“Niv, please—” she started crying, mascara streaking down her face like a Lifetime movie extra.

“Please what?” I mocked, hitting her with another quick jab to the ribs. “Please stop telling the truth?”

She covered her face, whining, “I can’t take no more!”

I leaned down, my voice low and mean in her ear. “Aww. Poor baby! Well, you gone take it because you earned it.”

Then I popped her again in the same spot.

Her bad wig had slid halfway off, her shirt was twisted around like a damn pretzel, and she was begging.

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry! Please, Niv, stop!” she cried, crawling back against the wall.

I stood over her, chest rising, knuckles stinging, and smirked. “See how easy that was? Coulda just kept my family’s name out your mouth and saved yourself this ass whooping.”

I wiped my fist on her shirt and pointed down at her. “Say one more thing about Hux or that baby, and I’ll beat yo ass every Tuesday like clockwork.”

She nodded quick, eyes wide, lip bleeding.

Behind me, I heard Kendrix mutter, low and proud, “God damn…” like he just witnessed history.

I stood tall, adjusting my bra strap like nothing happened. Then looked down at her again and said, “Matter fact, thank me. Because this ass whooping is the first real love you’ve had in years.”

I looked down at her and for the first time in years, she was shut the fuck up.

I bent down, grabbed her chin so she had no choice but to look at me, and said slow and clear, “Zejah is moving in with me.”

Her eyes widened. “W-what?”

“You heard me. And don’t even think about running your mouth or I’ll call DHS right now and have your Section 8, food stamps, and every little child support dollar snatched up so quick you won’t even have bus fare to take your dirty ass to the damn clinic.”

She tried to jerk her face back, but I gripped tighter.

“And don’t test me. I’ll do it tonight. The only reason I won’t is because I refuse to make those other kids pay for the mess you created. But you got 60 days.” I let her go and stood tall.

“Sixty. Days. To get your shit together. Or I will personally come back in here and beat your ass every single day until you do.”

Her lip trembled. She opened her mouth, and I snapped, “Say something. I dare you.”

She shut it. Just like I knew she would.

I turned, pointing toward the door where Kendrix was watching.

“And let’s get one thing straight,” I added, looking back down at her. “Zejah is not your concern anymore. She’s mine. If she decides one day she wants to rebuild a relationship with you, I won’t stand in the way. But until then, fix yourself up for the rest of your kids.”

Her tears fell silent, and for once, she didn’t have shit slick to say.

I smirked and looked at Kendrix. “I’m done, handsome.”

He looked at me like I’d just declared war and won. “Let’s go, baby.”

I glanced at her mom one last time. “Sixty days, ma. After that? Pray Jesus get to you before I do.”

We pulled up in front of my house. I felt like my body was running off pure adrenaline and my brain hadn’t caught up yet. Kendrix parked, cut the engine, and the sound of the world finally came back.

I turned in the seat, looking at Zejah, who was staring out the window like she’d aged five years in one night.

“How old is your sister?” I asked, my voice low, steady.

She blinked, then looked at me. “Yanna? She’s twelve.”

“Does she got a phone?”

Zejah nodded. “Yeah. I’ve been texting her.”

I leaned back against the headrest, letting out a slow breath. “Good. Tell her to keep an eye on my mamma… the way you used to. And I’ll make sure she stays with money and whatever else she needs.”

Her lips parted, surprise flashing in her eyes before tears started forming again. She pulled her phone out quick, thumbs flying. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Can you go wait on the porch for me?” I asked her. “Kendrix and I will bring your bags.”

She sniffled, grabbed her purse, and slid out the truck.

As soon as the door shut behind her, I finally let my chest collapse. Leaned back in the seat, closed my eyes, ran my hands down my face and whispered, “What in the entire fuck?”

Kendrix leaned back in the driver’s seat, watching me with that same calm look he’d had since all hell broke loose earlier.

Not once did he flinch. I stared out the windshield at Zejah sitting on my porch, kicking at the concrete with the toe of her shoe like a kid that didn’t know whether to cry again or breathe easy.

I finally let the words slip out. “I don’t even know if I handled that right.”

Kendrix laughed low, shaking his head. “Pretty… you didn’t just handle it, you body-slammed it, drop-kicked it, then put it in a chokehold until it tapped out.”

I shot him a side-eye, trying not to laugh. “You so damn stupid.”

He grinned. “Nah, for real. I don’t think I ever seen nobody mama get her ass beat and get a TED Talk at the same time. You the first.”

I couldn’t help it, so I laughed.

I shook my head. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

He smirked. “Nah. Half the time I just be winging it and praying I don’t sound like a dumbass.”

That made me laugh again.

I sighed, letting his hand go, but not before squeezing it. “You know… I would let you meet the kids.”

His whole body stilled, like I’d just handed him a key to something he didn’t expect yet.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But… I got some important things to talk about with my brother first.”

“I can only imagine,” he said softly. Then he leaned in, brushing a kiss against my lips.

“When you’re done with him,” he added, “Call me.”

“I will.”

I kissed him once more, a little longer, before pushing the door open.

“Goodnight, Kendrix.”

“Goodnight, Pretty.”

I stepped up beside Zejah on the porch. She looked nervous, twisting her phone in her hands.

“You talked to Hux yet?” I asked.

She shook her head quick. “No… but he’s been calling and texting me, though.”

“Good,” I said, unlocking the door. “Because he’s gone be surprised the same way I was.”

Her throat bobbed like she wanted to say something else, but instead, she just nodded. Together, we walked into the house.

I headed straight for Hux’s room. I didn’t even bother knocking. I pushed the door open, and he was slouched on the edge of his bed with his phone in his hand.

The second he saw me, his eyes darted away. Guilt written all over him.

I crossed my arms. “What’s going on, Hux?”

“Nothing,” he said, too quick.

“Boy, don’t play with me.” I stepped further in, shutting the door behind me. “You been walking around here stressed, snapping at folks, acting like the whole world got you bent. I ain’t stupid.”

He sighed heavy, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… school. Basketball. You know how it is.”

I tilted my head, studying him. “Mm. That’s cute. But it must be Zejah, huh?”

The way his head snapped toward me told me everything I needed to know. His eyes went wide, mouth falling open like he forgot how to form words.

“How… how you know about that?” he whispered, voice cracking.

Before I could even answer, the door creaked behind me. I turned, and Zejah came in. Eyes red, cheeks wet, tears spilling all over again.

“Hux…” she choked out, voice trembling.

He stood up so fast the bed squeaked, his face went pale as he looked between me and her. I just crossed my arms tighter, locking eyes with him.

“Looks like it’s time for everyone to stop lying.”

Hux didn’t say a word. He just moved. Fast.

Like his legs didn’t even ask permission from his brain. Like something in him broke loose when he saw her.

He rushed over and pulled Zejah into his arms with a force that made my throat tighten. She collapsed against his chest like her whole body had been waiting for that one second of safety.

And it hit me, just how deep it really was. Hux doesn’t like physical touch. Never has. He’s been that way since he was little. I used to have to bribe him for hugs with cookies and money to let me twist his hair. So to see him hold her like that?

It wasn’t just some messy high school fling that accidentally turned into a baby.

My little brother loved that girl.

He pulled back just enough to look at her face, scanning every scratch, every tear.

“I read your message,” he said, voice trembling. “You fought your mama? For real?”

Zejah nodded, biting her bottom lip like she was still scared of what he’d think.

He leaned down, kissed her forehead softly, and asked, “You okay?”

It was quiet and so gentle that I barely heard it.

She just nodded again, holding him tighter.

I stood there just watching. Processing. Feeling every version of myself collide.

I cleared my throat, and they both jumped slightly. Like they forgot I was there.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s get something real clear right now.”