Page 56 of In Too Deep
“Where did you go?”
“To eat with at my parents’ house with Trecee?—”
I cut him off, releasing a scoff and snatched my attention away from him, darting my eyes back to the ceiling.
“And it wasn’t shit like that. All while I was there, I was thinking ‘bout you, Synthia,” he defended himself.
Adjusting my posture, I sat up on my feet and rested my hands on top of my thighs. I had to straighten my crop top to keep my breasts from spilling out.
“Am I a fantasy to you or something?”
He frowned, then twisted his head, still leaning against the door. “The fuck are you getting at?”
“You’re enjoying having your cake and eating it too. I gave you back the phones, plus the money from the cuts. This isn’t about a ransom anymore. This is you feeding into your power because you know I have nothing. You’re trapping me here, like I’m some fucking prisoner. Then whenever you’re ready, you’re eating my ass and pussy, and then you dip back out and come back, starting the cycle over. To hell with this shit and to hell with you. This is messy no matter how you slice it. I paid my debt. This is deep, Romelo. We’re in too deep now,” I stated in a hushed tone as if people could hear us.
“See,” he pointed at me. “That’s where you're wrong. You ain’t a fantasy for me. I told you it should’ve been you. Italwaysshould’ve been you, but I settled for Trecee. I can have any bitch prancing around this bitch, playing house. You’re so fucking headstrong, and regardless of me paying you for the shit we been doing as a favor, you don’t need it, and you don’t need me. You don’t lack integrity. Despite the shit that you go through, your head remains high. I been seeing that shit. I talk about yofine ass at night to my pillow with my head smashed against it, always wishing it was you.
“You were the only woman in my life I never knew how to approach. You don’t go around looking for handouts. I trust that if I let you go, you’ll leave here broke because you know your value is worth more than a dollar. If we talkin’ ‘bout a fantasy, the only sick shit ‘bout me was me laying next to your cousin thinkin’ ‘bout you. I don’t regret none of this because you’re mine, but the only thing I fear is me letting you leave and you not coming back.”
“Then that might be a risk that you’ll have to take,” I sighed, taking a deep breath.
“Juicy, don’t fucking talk like that,” he warned me.
I stood up, trampled out of bed, and stomped towards him.
“Or what, nigga! Or fucking what!” I grimaced.
He removed the gun from his waistband, and with a taunting smirk on his face, he pulled the trigger. Only this time, he wasn’t so lucky, and fate ruled over, promising him death, with it knocking on his door because it had an invitation.
To Be Continued