Chapter 4
2480 Words
(Song: "U know What's Up" by Donell Jones)
Trey
"We may have to delay the opening a few days," my head chef, Alexander, states.
I scrub my hand over my face. "Are you f*****g serious right now?" I groan loudly.
He shakes his head. "I know, don't worry, the electrician will be here by the end of the week to fix the circuit breaker."
Fuck me. The restaurant is supposed to open on Saturday night. I can only hope the electrician comes before then, or we'll have to wait until next weekend.
"Trey, all we can do is wait. Please go home, relax, do whatever to get your mind off of this. I will call you as soon as they arrive."
That's easier said than done. I can't relax knowing a circuit breaker just decided to start tripping last night.
I have too much to prove.
Too much to lose.
*Flashback
I wake up to a loud crash downstairs. Checking to make sure Jeremiah is still asleep, I quietly tiptoe across the hall to find Candy in bed trembling and crying. "Are you okay?" I ask in a hushed voice.
"No, Mama and Daddy are fighting again."
I hold her hand tightly and lead her to my room. With the sound of their arguing only getting louder, I lock the door.
Dad must be drunk again. They always argue when he gets drunk and it ends with him hurting Mama or pounding on the door to try to hurt me.
Somehow, Jeremiah is still sleeping through all of this. I gently scoop him from his crib and hold him in my lap while Candy hugs me tightly. "I'm scared, T," she whimpers.
"It'll be okay," I assure her, planting a kiss on her forehead.
I'm scared too, but I have to be strong for them. Mama said that's what good big brothers do.
There's a loud bang outside that make startles us all, even Jeremiah. He starts to cry, and realizing I don't have his binky, I shove my finger into his mouth. He suckles on it and immediately starts drifting back to sleep.
Then, comes a louder bang.
"William, leave them out of this! Please!" Mom screams hysterically.
He begins to pound on the door like a stampede of wild horses. "Come on out, Trey, I know you're in there!" he shouts angrily.
Candy begins to sob, but I quickly hush her. "Stay silent," I whisper, making sure only she can hear.
She nods, curling up and burying her face in my pillow to muffle her tears.
"Leave him alone! It's not his fault!" Mama continues to plead, but a harsh slap cuts her off.
"Why should I? You had me believing for six years that Trey was my son after you cheated on me. How do you think it makes me feel having to see his face everyday?" he keeps yelling, determined to break down the door.
Blood pounds loudly in my ears. A mixture of feelings arise inside me: anger, betrayal, hurt. Is that why he always finds a reason to spank me even when I haven't done anything bad? There has been times when Candy admitted to something and he still hit me for it. Is that why he doesn't love me anymore?
"Please, go back downstairs. We can talk ‘bout this!" I hear Mama whisper.
Once I hear their voice carry back downstairs, I hand Jeremiah to Candy and say, "When I go, don't open the door for anyone, okay?"
"You can't go out there, T. He'll kill you."
"Better me than you or Jerry."
Mom said never to call the police no matter how badly Dad hurt her, but this time feels different. I'm scared he might actually try to kill her.
I lock the door from the inside and silently close it, leaving my siblings safe and protected. Then, I creep into Mom's room and find the house phone on her nightstand.
I dial 911 and tell the woman our address. She says help is on the way and that I'm such a brave young man.
Running downstairs, I find Dad hurting Mama while she lays on the floor. She screams and cries for him to stop, but he doesn't.
"Leave her alone!" I jump on his back, but he knocks me away. I wince as the back of my head slams into the wall and I feel something warm in my hair.
Suddenly, I hear police sirens blaring in the distance.
Fear fills Mom's eyes as she looks over at me. "T, what did ya do?" she asks, her voice trembling.
I know she'll be angry with me, but I don't want him to hurt us anymore. I want Mama to be happy again.
Tears well in my eyes. "I'm sorry Mama, I was scared he would kill you."
Dad storms towards me, lifting me up by my shirt collar. "You're never going to be anything, but the little piece of s**t that you are, you hear me?" he roars in my face, his breath reeking strongly of alcohol. He then drops me to the floor and returns his anger to Mama.
"You raise the little bastard by yourself," he growls.
"Please don't leave me, William! I need ya, our children need ya!" Mama wails, grabbing hold of his arm, but he shakes it off.
"f**k you and those kids."
He dips out the door right before the cops show up.
Flashback ends*
That was the last time we saw William. I never met my biological father and most likely never will. Mama said she was too drunk to remember who he is anyway.
Even though she'd never admit, Mama did resent me for calling the cops on William. He was abusive, but he did help pay the bills. Without him, she had to work twice as much and that left me to raise Candy and Jeremiah until I left for culinary school. Then, I hurried and got a job so I could still provide for them and send Mama a decent amount of money each month.
As I drive to my penthouse, desperate to distract myself from worrying about my dreams failing, I catch sight of a cozy little bar just around the corner from my restaurant.
A drink won't hurt right now. I'll just make sure I stick to just the one.
I step inside and my eyes immediately lock on the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.
——————————————
What the f**k was I thinking?
I look in the rear view mirror watching the woman bounce and giggle in my backseat. She's been doing this for the past ten minutes, and I still don't know what's funny.
I have to get rid of her as soon as possible. When I first saw her, I did see us having a long night of wild s*x in a hotel room, but that's out of the window now. Obviously, she doesn't drink often and it shows. She needs to go home, sober up, and deal with whatever issues made her want to drink in the first place.
"Where do you live so I can drop you off?" I ask, looking at her again.
"LakeShire Apartments."
I type it in my phone and start following the GPS directions. It's twenty minutes from my place, but the least I can do is make sure the girl gets home safely, right?
I have no idea why I approached her in the bar, but I'm glad I did. Another guy would've taken advantage of her like this, but I'm a gentleman. I don't believe in touching women that are too intoxicated to consent, no matter how badly they claim to want me.
I pull into the parking garage of a pretty upscale apartment complex, so either she or her boyfriend (hopefully he's her ex now) have a successful career.
Wait, what am I doing? The least I know about her, the better. I just want to drop her off and move on. I already have too much on my plate to worry about.
Not knowing where to drop her off, I stop in front of an elevator. "Can you get to your apartment from here?" I ask, my words frosted in ice.
After she thanks me for the ride, she stumbles out and waves as I drive off. As I reach the end of the garage, I see her still standing by the building, struggling with her phone.
Why isn't she going inside? Did she lose her keys? Most importantly, why do I even care?
I quickly flip a b***h, my tires screeching loudly, and head back to where I left her. Rolling down my window, I give her a puzzled expression. "Why are you still standing here?" I ask, sounding too concerned for my liking.
She chews on her bottom lip. "Oh, just ordering an Uber to get my car. My apartment is...uh, being fumigated."
I have a feeling she's lying, but of course, I don't know her well enough (actually, not at all) to be sure.
"You're not driving. You need to sober up first."
The overwhelming urge of protectiveness is so intense, I simply can't ignore it. It's like I need to see with my own eyes that she's safe and sound.
"I-I wasn't-" I quickly hop out of the car and usher her to the passenger side, opening the door and making sure she's safely buckled in. "You know, I'm not a baby," she says defiantly, which I find adorable as hell.
She's quiet during the ride, and I notice her taking in the surroundings. She's a smart girl. It's good she doesn't trust me, considering I'm a total stranger taking her to my place.
"Where are we going?" she asks in a low voice.
"To my penthouse. Once you sober up, I'll drive you back to the bar to get your car."
I pull into my designated parking space and turn off the engine. She glances over at me, her serious gaze intensified by chocolate eyes that look caramel underneath the sunlight. "Just because you take me to some fancy penthouse doesn't mean I'm sleeping with you," she states.
I chuckle lowly. "Oh trust me sweetheart, I don't want anything like that from you."
My heart sinks a little when I catch a glimpse of sorrow in her eyes, yet she remains silent.
I hope I didn't hurt her feelings-
Hope I didn't hurt her feelings? Who am I? Drake?
Since she's still very intoxicated, I offer to carry her, but she declines and holds my arm instead. We step into the elevator together, and there's this palpable tension in the air as we ascend.
Every part of this feels wrong. Even when I lived in Texas, I never brought women back to my apartment. It's too intimate, and I swear, it's not because I have commitment issues. As a chef, I just love to explore different flavors in and out of the kitchen.
I lead her into my new place, leaving her at the door while I flip on all the light switches. I hope she doesn't plan on getting too comfortable. As soon as she's sober enough to drive, I'm taking her back to get her car.
I suddenly hear her exclaim, 'It's f*****g hot as balls in here!' as I'm in the bathroom ensuring that it's presentable.
"I can turn on the A.C if you'd like," I shout back. When I walk back into the entryway, my eyes damn near pop out of my head at the sight of ripping her clothes off to reveal creamy, chocolate skin. She has wide hips, big, perky breasts, and a perfectly round ass. The sight of her bare p***y between her thick thighs has my mouth watering.
I wonder what she tastes like...
"What the hell are you doing?" I growl, my nostrils flaring with suppressed anger as I shield my eyes from her amazing body. The damage is already done though, my c**k is harder than f*****g steel now.
I'm pissed at myself that she has this kind of effect on me. I just met her, yet I want to explore every inch of her body, and I've never experienced desire like this before. It makes me feel like I'm losing control, and I hate it!
She blushes. "I'm sorry, I'm just hot and sleepy."
I'm left speechless as she enters my room and hops onto the bed, her juicy ass jiggling with the motion.
Fuck. I'm two seconds from coming in my pants like a teenage boy. What is she doing to me?
Gritting my teeth, I walk over to get her the f**k out of my room. "Why don't you go lay on the couch?" I suggest firmly.
She looks up and crawls over to me, swaying her hips seductively. Before I can respond, she runs her hand down my chest, her dilated eyes glazing over with lust as she reaches for my manhood. Even though her touch has my d**k punching at my zipper, I gently push her away. “I can't allow you to do that," I grit out.
I notice her eyes welling up with tears as she looks down. "Jordan said I was boring, I was hoping you would think differently," she murmurs.
Shit. I've hurt her feelings. I'm assuming Jordan is her ex. How could he tell her she's boring? Maybe it was the liquid courage, but I bet she was just about to do some magical s**t to my d**k.
If she wasn't out of her mind, there's a part of me that would have loved to find out what it was.
I gently lift her chin, making her meet my gaze. "I don't believe there is anything boring about you. Now, why don't you rest for a bit so I can get you back to your car?"
She nods and gets comfortable, covering herself with the blankets. In no time, she's fast asleep.
I sink into the chair in the corner of the room, watching her sleep peacefully. With her hair cascading across my pillow, she looks like an angel; a gorgeous angel that's going to be the death of me if I don't hurry up and return her.
Ugh, she smells like a strawberry cupcake and vodka. I'm going to have to wash my sheets as soon as she leaves and hope I can get rid of the scent. How have I only known her a few hours, and she's got me bending all my rules?
I've never even had a woman sleep in my bed before. Even in hotels, we just exchange bodily fluids and I call them an Uber.
So what the f**k is happening right now, and why am I just letting it?
- Writer
