Lighter Shade of Brown (Urban Fiction) BWHM

Chapter 40

The wood grain didn't yield to the punishing grip of C's hold. No matter how tight his trembling palms choked the steering wheel, it declined to submit to the escalating strength of his wrath. None of that shit mattered, though. Not while his eyes betrayed everything he thought his battered soul already knew. Watching the other half of his bleeding heart wrapped tight in Tech's bullshit embrace snatched logic and reasoning from his rage saturated brain. Cleo and Tech? He shook his head. The thought refused to compute.

C's grabbed the handle of the driver's door, anxious to sink to the bottom of the entire filthy situation. Before he could push it open his moms grabbed his arm. Irritated, he side eyed her.

"What?" Ice cold fury replaced respect in his tone.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She asked, gaze never leaving the view that the windshield provided.

"To handle this." He yanked his arm from her hold.

"What right do you think you have to interfere now, Caesar?" She demanded, tearing her eyes away from Cleo to glare at him. "For the past year you haven't even spoken her name. Now you want to dictate with who she spends her time? It's a little late in the game to sprout concern. Don't you think?"

C's squeezed his eyes shut as he clenched his back teeth together. "I didn't leave her because my love for her ran out."

"I know, mijo," she said, covering his hand with hers. "But does she?"

"Regardless, if she does or not, this vato is straight sheist. Wouldn't be surprised if he the reason she squared off at school today." He slammed his fist down on the dashboard. "I didn't give her up for this. She deserves more than a hombre who's got a chick and a jit stashed away across town." 

C's opened his eyes to stare at Cleo. She'd broken free of Tech's embrace and now was descending the stairs two at time in an attempt to get at a short thick red bone cowering behind an older lady wearing a body dress with a red scarf wrapped around her head.

"Fuck," he forced through the slits of his teeth as he pushed the door open to hop out of the car.

Elbowing people out of the way, he reached the bottom of the stairs in time to snatch Cleo out of the air mid lunge. Soon as her body slammed against his, the trife scenery of the Ninth dimmed and faded. He couldn't see or hear shit. In that moment she was the only thing that existed for him. For the first time since he'd wrecked shit between them, he inhaled and exhaled without the usual ache that followed each breath. Just holding her stripped away a year's worth of pain and added depth to the shadow he'd become when he chose to love her more than he loved himself. Damn. Even after all that time, she still had his wild ass on a leash.

"Let me go, C's," she said, twisting and bucking against his hold.

His grip around her tightened. "Not 'til you get your shit together and get back on your level."

"Let her black ass go. I'ma let Coco beat her lil' ugly ass up under those damn stairs," the older chick yelled as she shoved the scared shitless red bone in front of her. "And you better whoop her ass, Coco."

"I 'on't feel like fighting right now, ma! My neck hurts and I'm tired." The girl squeaked in a high pitch voice that violated his nerves.

The older lady grabbed the girl called Coco by the collar of her shirt and snatched her to the tips of her toes. "You either beat her or fight me. Either way, your dumb ass is fightin somebody today."

"Senora, there is something profoundly wrong with you," Angela hissed, slamming the passenger door. "She's a child, not a dog you can force to fight. Take her home now or I'll report you to child protective services soon as I can wrap my hand around a telephone."