Lighter Shade of Brown (Urban Fiction) BWHM

Chapter 43

"Bitch bred Tech! Why the fuck are you comparing me to that refugee?" C's roared before yoking the Chevy to the shoulder of the road. He cocked his head sideways to shoot hatemakers at her from temple to cheek. "Look at me, Cleopatra!"

The demand in his voice vibrated the air around her. Without brushing two thoughts together, she angled her body to face him. What the hell had she been thinking? C's had always been her preferred drug whether by choice or reluctance. No matter his past sins, he was her unshakable addiction. As she stared that well-known monkey in the pupils an old familiar jones flared to life. A jones which should've been laid to rest when she'd leveled up with Tech. The same jones that now rattled and jerked her from teeth to knees. A jones that always compelled her to use and overdose on what she'd craved the most...him. Damn! Why was she here again? Why the hell wasn't she stronger?!

The only thing left for her to do now was beg. Beg for her life, beg for her soul, but above all else, beg for her heart. "Please, C's!" Her plea escaped her lips in a desperate broken whisper. She pushed herself against the passenger door, forcing whatever distance she could between them.

"Please C's what? Don't make you feel me!" His fist slammed down on the dashboard. "Nah, fuck your, Please C's!" He wrapped a palm around the back of her neck and guided her to him. When her breasts pressed against the hard rise and fall of his chest his amber fire stare buckled her the fuck down. "There's a lot of shit falling down around me that fucks my understanding dry. Shit, that straight up doesn't make any sense. Not you and me, though. Never you and me, bae. Caesar and Cleopatra will always make sense." His voice lowered to a deep treble which aggravated the rapidly dampening center at the apex of her twitching thighs. "So, how're you gonna fix your mouth and beg me not to speak what's in my soul?" His other hand snaked up between them to rest over the pounding at her sternum bone. "Especially, when it's my heart beating down your fucking chest?"

The hell! His heart?! Was he in denial or just dumb?!! He no longer had any claims on her heart. Her heart stopped beating for him the moment he ripped it from her chest almost two years ago! His audacity stretched her eyes wide and reminded her why they could never again be an us.

"Fuck that Waiting to Exhale shit you on, Trouble. This," he caressed the skin between her breasts, while his assessing stare wandered over her face setting blaze to each feature it touched, "will always be mine. No matter how many dudes and females get between us. I'm in your bloodstream, bae," she turned to look away, but the grip at the nape of her neck forced their eyes to stay connected, "...and that's cool 'cause you're in mine. It's been that way since the moment my mom stood you in front of me."

"And that all stopped mattering to me when your actions made lies out of your words." She broke the grip on her neck to turn and face the windshield. "Now when I look at you, all I remember is how dead and cold your eyes were when you told me I wasn't good enough for-,"

"Bae-,"

She sliced his next words from his tongue with a hatemaker forged in the darkest pit of her personal hell. "You know what the craziest thing is, though? Five hundred and forty-six days later and I can still taste the smoke I choked on from your exhaust pipes. You made a fool out of me that day," he opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a raised hand, "But you also made me stronger...harder. Because of you, I no longer mistake bullshit for truth or game for love."

"Bae, my reasons for leaving-,"

"Doesn't matter anymore, C's," she brushed his hand from her chest. The last thing she needed was to fall victim to the prettiness of his lies. "Look, my jaw hurts and I can't see anything but spots out this damn eye. Instead of bustin open, could of's, would of's, or should of's how about you bust me open a bottle of Tylenol?"