Addicted

She was a big hoochie momma. Much bigger than me. She had to be at least five-nine and 185 pounds but I didn’t give a shit. I caught her with a right hook as soon as I covered the ground between us.

After that, she and I started scrapping. She pulled a small clump of my hair out, and I scratched her jaw with my wedding ring. It went on from there. She ripped one of the buttons off my shirt. I retaliated and kicked her in the pussy. About that time was when Tyson pulled her off me.

“Dusty, get the fuck off her!” He grabbed her from behind and pulled her hands behind her back, holding them there.

I wasn’t through with the amazon bitch though and kicked her again, in the stomach. “Dusty? You look like a dusty-ass bitch!”

“Fuck you, you trick!”

By this time, Tyson was becoming unglued. “Zoe, get in the car and leave! We’ll talk later! I’ll come by your office!”

“Tyson, my damn window is broke! This is the second time this bitch has fucked with my car!”

“Damn right, trick, and I will fuck with your car again if you ever come sniffin’ around my man again!”

I couldn’t believe she was still talking trash. Obviously, Tyson had heard enough of her ass too, because he pushed her down on the ground and kicked her. That’s when I jumped on him because hitting a woman, even a bitch whose pussy is so dry the crabs have to carry canteens, isn’t acceptable in my book. I pulled Tyson’s arm and tried to get him away from her. “Tyson, leave her alone! She’s a female!”

She looked up from the concrete with bloodshot eyes. “Trick, he don’t give a shit about hittin’ a woman! That’s what got his ass locked up before!”

I looked at him, confused. “Locked up?”

“Zoe, do us all a favor, get in the car, and go back to your office! I will come for you!” He and I were staring at each other when Dusty took us both off guard by jumping up off the ground with the dexterity of a ninja and yanking Tyson’s ear, pulling out the gold cross earring he wore in his one pierced ear. Blood started gushing everywhere, and she hauled ass. I would’ve too; from the look on his face he was ready to beat her to a pulp.

I wasn’t waiting around to see whatever went down next. By the time he turned around again to check on me, all he caught was a glimpse of the exhaust from my muffler. I had accomplished what I went there to do, and that’s all that mattered. I just prayed his ass wasn’t serious about coming to my office, because I wanted the situation over and done with. The comment Dusty made about him being locked up threw me for a loop. I never thought I needed to run a criminal background check before I took on a lover. I began to wonder if he was a woman beater like Dempsey. The police had yet to track down Dempsey and they asked the Alabama State Police to keep a look out for him as well. I would’ve wished he was dead, but even death was too good for him after what he did to Brina. I wanted him to suffer in the worst way.

Driving back downtown, all sorts of confusion was going through my mind like a slideshow. I missed Brina, my head hurt, Tyson was a convicted criminal and I had no idea what crime he had committed, my window was busted out, my blouse was torn, my lip was bleeding, and I had one hell of a migraine. What worried me most was how I was going to explain any of it to Jason. He was all that mattered. Coming up with yet another lie about the car wasn’t going to be that effortless. Not to mention the fact I looked like I had been in a street brawl, which I had. I would just have to come up with something to cover my ass. I always did.

The truly messed-up part was, the ordeal with Tyson only meant one down. I still had two more to go, and my sanity was slipping fast as I gripped the steering wheel with both hands on my way to my next and final destination.

chapter

twenty-three

I got to Quinton’s building about thirty minutes later and tried to make myself look presentable before I went up to the loft. I didn’t care about the car window or any of that. I put some lipstick on, fingered my hair, and tucked my blouse into my skirt, trying to hide the fact it was missing a button. Why I was even going through that much trouble was beyond me. It wasn’t like I was going on a date. I was going to end a mistake. Two of them.

When I got off the elevator, I hesitated before deciding which way to go first. I knocked on Quinton’s door. He answered right away. “What are you doing here, Zoe?”

He stood in the doorway, blocking my entrance into his place. “Can I come in, Quinton?”

“No!” I was wondering why he was being so foul toward me until it hit me that maybe he had already found out something I should’ve told him months before. “You can’t come in!”

“Okay, fine. I’ll say what I have to say right here and then leave.” My legs started trembling, and for a brief second, I thought my knees were going to buckle underneath me. “Why are you being so nasty?”

“No reason!” He was snapping at me like a box turtle, and things were just not adding up.

“Quinton, I get back to work, and I have fifty messages from you asking me to get in touch with you. Then I come over here, and you won’t even let me in the door. What’s up with that?”

“What can I say, Zoe? Things change.”

That’s when I knew something definitely had happened I wasn’t privy to. I was about to ask what it was when I heard the door to the stairwell creak. “Who’s there?”

“Now you’re imagining things, Zoe.” I looked back at

Quinton. I had never seen him leer at me that way. He had a look of hatred in his eyes. “I guess you would have reason to be paranoid, huh?”

“Quinton, I’m going to get straight to the point, since you seem to have a rock up your ass anyway.” He rolled his eyes. “I can’t see you anymore.”

He laughed at me! Just stood there and laughed all up in my face. The same man that had begged me to leave my husband and move in with him a thousand times. “Oh, so now I’m a fuckin’ joke, Quinton?”