Page 22

T he steam floated around me, as I sunk deeper into the tub.

I had filled it to the brim, letting the Epsom salt, coconut milk, and a splash of lavender oil soothe the ache that lingered in my body from the shootout that night.

Rose petals floated on the surface of the water while soft R&B played from my Bluetooth speaker on the counter.

My eyes were closed, but my mind was far from closed off.

That feeling in my stomach was still there.

It wasn’t a sharp pain, it was more like a dull, nagging discomfort I couldn’t shake.

I pressed the palm of my hand to my belly and slowly exhaled letting the water do what it could.

When I finally got out, I wrapped my robe around me and made my way into the kitchen.

I already had my pot of chicken souse reheating and seasoned to perfection with lime, onions, celery, garlic, a little scotch bonnet, and that splash of vinegar to make it hit right.

The smell filled the penthouse giving it a warm and nostalgic feel.

I poured myself a ginger ale over ice, grabbed a spoon, and took a seat on the edge of my bed with the blackout curtains slowly sliding shut behind me after I pressed the button.

I pulled the comforter over my lap, turned on a movie deciding to watch ‘Bad Boys: Ride or Die’ for the third time, and started eating.

The souse went down warm, but the ginger ale I could feel fizz in my stomach a little and of course, I tried to ignore it.

A FaceTime call came through and I answered seeing that it was O’Shynn.

She was posted up at her place with no makeup, a comfortable fleece warm up with bonnet on, and her legs kicked up.

“You look like you just got out the spa,” she said with a grin.

“I did…. except it’s my own damn tub,” I chuckled.

“You good though?” she asked, as her own voice showed a touch of concern. O’Shynn always knew when something wasn’t right with any of us.

I hesitated. “I’m okay, I’m just tired and then my body is sore. It’s probably a mix of everything.”

She nodded but didn’t press the issue. We chatted about her new dancers at the club, a money count mishap from one of her girls, and a few names from our past that popped up on her radar but halfway through our convo, the security camera alert pinged on my phone. I tapped the screen, and saw Dom.

He was looking too damn fine for his own good, standing outside my front door with his hands in his pockets like he wasn’t a whole cartel kingpin.

I told O’Shynn I’d call her back and hung up, setting my bowl aside.

When he entered, I could tell he was trying to read me.

His usual cold stare was softened a little as his eyes roamed my entire body.

“You alright?” he asked, “And don’t bullshit me. What’s goin’ on with you?”

I didn’t answer him. Instead, I patted the bed beside me signaling him to come join me.

He slipped off his shoes and climbed in without a word, laying down as I rested my head on his chest. It was like an immediate warmth and comfort for me.

I let myself be vulnerable and melt into him.

His cologne mixed with the scent of my oil tickled my nose.

My fingers found his chest and I found myself tracing the outline of the scar near his collarbone.

“You never pull up unless something’s wrong,” I said.

“You not feelin’ good,” he replied. “You don’t show that unless it’s serious.”

“I’ll be fine. I’m telling you, it’s probably just stress, and that damn ginger ale isn’t helping,” I said with a weak smile.

“You need to go see somebody.”

I chuckled. “Coming from you?”

He didn’t say anything to that, instead he just held me closer.

The silence between us wasn’t awkward, it was actually peaceful.

His chest rose and fell beneath my cheek, and every beat of his heart felt like confirmation that whatever this was between us…

it was real, even if neither of us wanted to say it out loud just yet.

“I missed you,” I suddenly whispered. I was thinking it, but I didn’t mean to say it.

His fingers slid along my waist, gripping gently. “I’m here.”

At some point, I drifted off in his arms and fell into a deep sleep with my face tucked into the curve of his chest but when I woke up, the vibe was different.

My eyes fluttered open to the dark room, with only the glow of the TV still lighting the room.

I didn’t move at first and Dom hadn’t either, but his eyes were wide open, and he was staring dead at me.

I blinked a few times adjusting my vision before turning my head to look up at him.

“What?” I mumbled, in a groggy voice. “Why you looking at me like that?”

He didn’t blink nor did he flinch. He just tilted his head and said, “When the last time you had a period?”

I froze and my brain took a full five seconds to register the question. Then I found myself scrambling trying to do the math trying to remember. I slowly sat up, with my robe falling off my shoulder a little as I rubbed my face.

“Shit…” My stomach dropped.

“Carmen,” Dom said again, more serious now. “When the fuck was the last time?”

“I don’t know!” I snapped, not out of attitude, but pure panic. “I… I haven’t even been paying attention like that.”

He sat up with me as his tattoos flexed along his chest and forearms and he rested his elbows on his knees. “You sick… you tired. You emotional as hell. You been eatin’ a lil weirder and I ain’t never pulled out of you.”

I side-eyed him hard. “That’s your fault, king of pull-out games.”

He didn’t smile nor smirk. This was one of the few times I saw real worry in Dom’s eyes. “I’m not sayin’ it is,” I said quieter, rubbing my temple. “But we gotta be sure.”

He stood up and reached for his phone. “I’ma send the driver to get a test. Sit tight.”

While he was on the phone, I slid back into the bed, staring at the ceiling like it might give me answers.

Dom paced the room like he was planning a damn hit.

I guess in a way, he was. He walked back over to the kitchen counter, lifted the lid off the pot of chicken souse and scooped some into a bowl like we wasn’t just discussing a possible pregnancy.

I watched him from the bed shirtless with his tattoos glowing under the low kitchen light, as he ate spoonful’s and chased it down with D’USSé.

He didn’t say much and neither did I. About twenty-five minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Dom opened it just enough to grab the bag, and nod before shutting it again. His guy never stepped inside. He tossed the box onto the bed in front of me.

“I ain’t leavin’ the room.”

I sighed and pulled myself up to my feet. “I didn’t ask you to.”

I walked into the bathroom, took the test, and came back out still holding it with the little window flipped toward me, ticking down the seconds like a fucking bomb.

I sat down on the edge of the bed, and Dom sat next to me, not touching me or talking to me but just watching.

Three minutes went by and that’s all it took for my whole world to change.

It read ‘Pregnant’. I didn’t breathe, didn’t blink, and could hardly speak.

I just stared at it like it might change if I glared long enough.

I wasn’t a woman of many tears, but after a short while, they came, and it was the ugly cry too.

I covered my mouth with one hand and dropped the test with the other.

My whole-body shook, and I felt like my own damn body betrayed me.

I just knew I had never cried in front of Dom… ever! Until now.

He sat still for a second before reaching over and wrapping both his arms around me and tightly pulling me into him. I buried my face in his shoulder and sobbed like I was a five year old child. Every piece of control I ever had was gone right now.

“I’m scared,” I finally whispered. “I haven’t ever been scared a day in my life, Dom… until right now.”

He didn’t say nothing at first because it seemed like he had to gather his thoughts too.

I watched every emotion flicker across his face.

I knew he wasn’t happy about it, but it was only because of his fear of anyone ever coming after his child just to get to him.

A few minutes later he just kissed my temple and held me close.

Then finally, he said, “You ain’t gotta be scared. You not alone.”

“I swear to God, I’ll have an abortion if you want me to. I know the risk of keeping a baby in our world. Do I want babies eventually? Yes, I do, but I’m not going to have baby, if my husband isn’t happy about having one with me.”

Dom glared at me through his thick lashes and I could tell he wasn’t feeling me mentioning that.

“This shit wasn’t planned for neither one of us, but I’ll be damned if I kill off what’s mine just to appease other muhfuckas.

I don’t want kids, but if I had to have one, it wouldn’t be with nobody but you. We’ll figure this shit out.”

I didn’t believe in fairytales. I didn’t even believe in happy endings but in that moment, I believed him and for me that was enough right now.

As vocal as we both were when it came to the world of crime, this was a moment where we sat in our shit, processed it, owned it, and took it for what it was.

I knew there was so much more to say, but right now some things were better left unsaid and what was understood didn’t need to be explained.