Page 25 of In Too Deep

“Nah,” I pinched the bridge of my nose, holding back laughter. “I ain’t see none. It would’ve looked like some vanilla and chocolate swirled ice cream.”

“Oh my God,” she cackled, nudging her elbow into my side playfully. “Eventually, you’ll be the first guy to turn me out.”

“You’d give me that benefit?”

“I’m stuck here, aren’t I?”

Looking down at her, still caressing her body. “You know why,” I grimaced at the thought of her leaving me or letting her go. “I can give you the world here, between these walls. Being outside can’t give you that.”

“You can’t trap me in here,” she mumbled.

“But I can,” I leaned my head back, resting it against the headboard, darting my eyes away from her, panning them to the wall. “’Till the death of me.”

****

Before easing out of bed, I kissed Synthia on the forehead, then tucked the covers on top of her.

As much as I wanted to stay and be enthralled in her skin, I couldn’t.

She wasn’t my woman yet, and Trecee’s annoying ass would rattle me with a thousand questions.

I haven’t been home for two nights in a row, and I knew she’d be bitchy about it.

Trecee knew better than to blow up my phone or raid through it with questions about my whereabouts because I’d pop off on her ass.

I nipped that shit in the bud years ago when she tried it.

When I come home, my pockets be full. I don’t have lent in them and shit.

Only this time was different. Nonetheless, she knew not to question me about dumb shit, because I don’t do it to her, even when she gave me reasonable doubts.

Locking up the house after me, I keyed in the code on my phone and put the house on lockdown mode, watching the metal windows slam shut, locking Synthia inside, and hearing her disdain in the back of my head.

As promised, I left the Wells Fargo card on the dresser.

By morning, I’d be sure to open her a bank account and load money onto the card or do a wire transfer.

My accountant could plug me in, only using Synthia’s ID and social security card, with her not being present.

Paying her enough under the table money would keep her mouth shut about me doing that shit illegally.

I needed Synthia to be straight about my proposal, without giving me so much hell.

It’d be a fair negotiation. She gets what she wants, and I get what I want in return.

I had enough to give her whatever she wanted and then some.

Her being trapped in my mansion was me keeping tabs on her behind closed doors without a bunch of motherfuckas acting like peeping toms around the hood, noticing shit.

I don’t know how the fuck I’ma play this off, but however I got to play it needs to be winning in the end with the cards I’d been dealt.

God knew I could handle anything he threw my way, including juggling two pussies at a time.

The only exemption was that one of them smelled like sewer water, and the other one smelled like freshly baked pound cake.

A state of depression washed over me the second I pulled inside of the garage.

I turned the car off and opened the door, nestling my head against the headrest. Trecee had gotten annoying as fuck to be around now, but like I’d told Synthia, I felt compelled to have her around for saving my life when she didn’t have to.

She didn’t hold it over my head, but I knew those words were unspoken.

If I could drop her like a bad habit, I would, but I didn’t have a reason to, yet.

Hearing the garage door open and close, I rolled my eyes and closed them. Her slippers slapped against the concrete, nearing me until they stopped, and I felt her presence close.

“Look what the cat done drug in,” she muttered.

Annoyingly, I darted my eyes open and turned my head, slowly, looking at her pissed off expression, tossing it over my head like a hoodie.

“And it can drag my ass back the other way if you on bullshit.”

Trecee sucked her teeth as she shifted her weight on the other side, with her hand on her hip. “I’m not coming at you on bullshit, Rome. You haven’t been home in two days, and you don’t think to call, text—at least tell me you’re alive,” she complained.

Placing my hand on her hip, I gently moved her out of the way and got out of the car, slamming the door behind me, seeming unenthused by the lingerie she was wearing. “Ta da,” I joked. “I’m alive,” I responded sarcastically, brushing past her.

Her slippers slapped against the concrete, stomping behind me. “This is senseless. I’m being treated like this all for a fight?”

“Mannnn,” I muttered, brushing my hand over my waves and pulling up my pants to keep them from sagging further. “I told you what it was when you mentioned it. It’s so much shit, I don’t mention that ain’t an issue for you, apparently.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

“Like, this shit right here,” I stopped in my steps. We were in the kitchen now, and it was a fucking mess.

Lola didn’t come by this house because Trecee stated to me early on that it was disrespectful to her for another woman to parade around the kitchen cooking and cleaning for me.

To provide ease, I cut Lola off, but didn’t dock her pay.

I still paid her as if the change hadn’t shifted.

Trecee didn’t know that, and it wasn’t her business to know regardless.

“Look at this fuckin’ kitchen. Fuck is you living like a pig fo’?” I grimaced, glancing at the many dishes in the sink, trash overflowing from the trash bin, and utensils everywhere.

She sucked her teeth behind me. “I was going to clean it up.” The lie seethed between her teeth quick.

“A lie ain’t nothin’ for yo ass to tell, house nasty, pussy nasty, damn.” Walking further inside the kitchen, I trampled around the mess, tossing shit where it belonged. “You got all these fuckin’ dishes in the sink and shit like you been cookin’. The fuck you been in here doin’ Trecee?”

“Surviving, since you act like you can’t pay for my needs anymore.”

I turned my head and glared at her. Her arms were folded over her small breasts.

I noticed the neat lace under the bonnet, it was different than the way it looked a few days ago.

Funny how my kitchen was nasty, but her lace was always kept.

I’ll never lie when I say her priorities are dipped in the wrong basket.

“Mane, don’t put this shit on me, Trecee. You spend your money on bullshit. That ain’t on me. That’s on yo ass. Fuck you think money grow on trees or sum’”?

“No,” she sighed. “I have needs and wants just like you do. I don’t see the problem when it’s never been a problem before.”

“You ‘round this bitch flossin’ on my dime. Flexin’ to ya girls like shit sweet ‘round here. They don’t be knowin’ half of the shit you and I go through, man.” Roughly tossing a dish in the sink, it clashed against the other ones, causing it to break.”

“I didn’t know all of this was on your mind,” she muttered way too calm for liking.

“There wasn’t no fine print when you and I got together.

My only flaw was being so blind to your bullshit, feeling sorry for yo ass about where you came from.

I was your lottery ticket, and you still didn’t hit it.

How many times have I told you to invest in yourself, so you’ll be straight, never knowing what may go down between us? ”

“Where is all of this coming from, Rome?” she frowned.

“You killin’ me always acting clueless and shit.” Staggering past her, I shook my head, becoming pissed off by the second, each step built rage and unease.

The bedroom was clean, but the bathroom was gutted with all of her shit on both sides of the sink. I wanted to dig another hole in her ass, but that wouldn’t do any good.

“I’m not ready yet, though. That’s a huge responsibility, Rome.”

“That’s what bosses got to deal with. Stop thinking like a rookie.

Responsibilities exist everywhere. That’s what comes with being grown.

Taking care of yo ass, making sure you drive nice shit and these lights stay on and the bills are kept paid, is a fucking responsibility, but you don’t see me around here complaining. ”

“Rome,” she scoffed. “Can we at least talk without you doing all of this yelling?”

“We’re talking.”

“Without the yelling,” she pleaded.

Leaning against the bathroom counter, I pinched the bridge of my nose tightly.

I was close to lashing out. Synthia didn’t partake in anof y this.

These feelings were always there. I just liked to pretend they were null.

Day by day, she was acting like a tick in my ass with her hand always out and shit.

“State your defense,” I calmly spoke, granting her request.

“What happened to us?” she muttered in a sad tone. “I miss the old us. Now you look at me like you hate me. You don’t hold me at night. You don’t call me and tell me how much you love me anymore.”

Trotting over to me, when she wrapped her arms around me, I didn’t feel anything.

Not an ounce of emotion washed through me.

It was the least bit romantic. The love I had for her was running out, sinking like quicksand.

Trecee just didn’t have the common sense to see that.

I’d been feeding her habit and watering it like a seed. This shit was getting old.

“Trecee,” I mumbled, gripping her hands to pry them from around my waist. “Baby, I need you to learn how to exist without me, love. I won’t always be here. Haven’t I told you from the beginning to have plan B if plan A don’t work out?”

“You have, but,” her voice croaked. “Are you leaving me?”

“I can’t keep doing this back and forth shit. You need to get your shit together and you need to do it fast.”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to do,” she cried, tears running down her face. I felt bad seeing her cry, and it was breaking me. I love her just as much as I hate her, and that’s the problem. “Whatever you want me to do!”

“Don’t let me forcing you to get on your shit, be the reason that you’re standing here seeming desperate with tears running down your face and shit Trecee.

” I took her chin between my thumb and forefinger, the slight pressure causing her to flinch, and looked intently into her eyes.

“Get on your shit because you want to do it. That’s all I been telling you from the get go.

Don’t force the hustle mentality on yourself, dealing with me.

I was your stepping stone and you blew it. ”

“Romeeee,” she whimpered, her bottom lip quivering. “I’ll do it. I’ll get the shop. I did a thing and went to the doctor. They’ve been misdiagnosing me this whole time. I know why I have the odor down there.”

I pulled back, crossing my arms in front of me. “Oh, for real?” My brow raised with curiosity.

“Yessss,” she nodded her head, trying to reassure me. “They said I have a tilted uterus, so it’s easy for bacteria to get trapped. That’s why the BV occurs consistently.”

“How the fuck you get that?”

“It’s more common than you think,” she sniffled, putting her head down and began to twiddle with her thumbs. “When my period comes, leftover blood gets trapped, causing it. The factors are various.”

“You been fucking off? We haven’t been fucking.”

“No,” she shrieked, looking offended. “Rome, what the fuck!”

“We haven’t been fucking for you to be getting all these damn infections and shit. Trecee keep shit a hunnid wit’ me. I ain’t no simp ass nigga.”

“Bacterial Vaginosis isn’t always sexual. It’s multiple factors that cause it,” she informed me.

I stale faced her, fishing for a lie, wanting to smack the shit out of her ass, but I don’t hit women.

I’ve been around Trecee to know her better than she knew herself.

I never had to suspect that she was cheating.

Having a funky ass pussy ruled out that she didn’t clean down there to me, and that was happening way too often.

“Smell this,” I put my fingers up to her nose. The fingers I’d used to finger fuck Synthia in the ass with. The sweet scent lingered heavily on my middle and index fingers. The entire ride home, I’d been riding with the windows rolled down, sniffing my upper lip, still smelling her.

Trecee sniffed. “Now taste it.”

She opened her mouth, being obedient, and nibbled on my fingers, sucking and slurping on them. I made sure she tasted every drip. When she pulled back, she smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The same way I’d done earlier.

“Tell me what you taste,” I grinned, reading her expression.

“Peaches. Your fingers taste like peaches. What’d you eat?”

“I stopped by my mama’s house, she made this fye ass peach cobbler,” I lied.

“Yeah,” I took my fingers out of her mouth. “Why didn’t you bring me a plate home? I’m sure I’d enjoy it. You know I love her cooking.”

“I didn’t save enough for leftovers.”

“Well, that sucks,” she uttered.

“Yeah, maybe one day, I’ll ask her for the recipe.”

Trecee gave me a soft smile and leaned in again, wrapping her arms around my waist, and resting her chin on my chest, glancing up at me with her saddened eyes. “I miss the old us. Do you think we’ll ever get us back?”

Her voice was filled with hope, anticipating my answer.

My mind was made up. Trecee had made a bed she planned on laying in.

I couldn’t lie and save grace. I ain’t never been that type of nigga to fill a bitch head up with lies for her to daydream about.

I give people the real and the raw me. I leave it up to them whether they're gonna accept me or not. Trecee knew what I was about the day she met me, but she didn’t play her cards right long enough to keep her spot secure.

Now, an unlikely suitor against her wishes is about to claim her spot, come hell or high water.

“I’ll tell you the truth before I tell you a lie.”