Hurts So Good

Chapter 19

Madison***

I came down for breakfast, but I was the only one at the table. Bernard had been cooking lately, but I guess he wasn't in the mood today. I fixed cereal and hung around the kitchen, just enough to hear Bernard leave for work. I assumed Antonio was still asleep, because he didn't come down, either. Perfect.

My heart is racing, and my palms are sweating heavily. I tied my converse, and did breathing exercises for a few seconds to relax a bit. I looked up to the ceiling and blew a kiss to my grandmother, and I walked downstairs.

I made my way around to the back of the house, and beneath the window, where my things were. They were undisturbed, and the morning dew glistened on top the suitcases. I lifted them and adjusted them so I could pull them. I took one last look around and..

BAM!

Glass shattered over the back of my head, and my grandmothers picture landed on the grass in front of me with a thud. Ouch!!

I dropped my belongings and grabbed my head instantly. It was already bleeding. I tried to regroup, but was punched in the face. Again. And again. And again.

BERNARD****

I laid out 6 lines, and went to Jupiter and back, in a matter of seconds. I inhaled deeply, shook off the aftershock, and let my thoughts run wild.

Who the fuck did Yasmin think she was? I'm Bernard - Motherfucking - Crawford. Nobody leaves me, unless I allow it!

Strangely though, I don't want Yasmin "handled." Unh-unh naw, naw, that's not what I want, because that's too easy. I want her to feel my pain. I have to think of a way to hurt her ass so good, she'll have no choice but to come crawling back to me.

I laid out a few more lines, and thought some more. This, is about to be good.

YASMIN***

Bailey's birthday came and went, and I still haven't talked to Genesis. I logged into Facebook and searched her name. Last post on her page was dated weeks ago. That's not like her at all.

Fuck that, my mind was made up. I'm going to check on my best friend. If I get attacked, or worse in the process, then so be it.

Bernard has called me every hour, of every day, since I've been gone. I was considering going home at first, but the threatening voicemails, combined with sweet text messages, just didn't mix. He hasn't changed at all.

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