' 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗘 𝗦𝗪𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗜𝗡 ' › D. SWING

07.

RHONDA.

Melissa was still asleep in my bed when I had come back from the drug store after picking up a first-aid kit and some pain medication, along with some healing ointment. She was battered pretty bad and though she didn't want to talk about it, my mind had been racing all day as I tried to figure out who could've have done it. I knew it wasn't Suge or Nasir, and it wouldn't have been Donald. Would it? I quickly pushed the thought from my mind as I began to prepare breakfast after washing my hands, overwhelmed and finding it hard to concentrate on anything. I was worried. Worried for Pac, Melissa, and Donald. It was all becoming too much to juggle. I need a drink.

I huffed, allowing the sausages and bacon to sizzle in the pan as I reached into the cabinet, retrieving a champagne glass and rinsing it out in the sink then made my myself a mimosa, sipping on it as I continued to cook. After about ten minutes, I was done with everything, cleaning up after myself and making our plates while listening to the television go on and on about the rape incident. I hope he's okay.

The bedroom door creaked open and out limped a bruised and scabby Melissa, heading down the hallway into the kitchen and giving me a small grin. I could tell she was embarrassed and probably even uncomfortable after the whole Donald situation and even though I wasn't quite over it, she was still my little cousin and I wasn't going to turn my back on her during a time like this, no matter how bad she had hurt me.

She thanked me as she took her plate and carried it to the living room, slowly squatting and wincing until her bottom had finally came in contact with the cushions of the couch. She released a sigh of relief, placing the plate on the coffee table and began to dig in while I sat at the island to eat mine instead.

Once she was done, she walked into the kitchen to empty the leftover food from her plate and started to wash the dishes but I protested, "Oh, no. Don't worry about it. I got it."

"Rhonda, it's fine. You've done enough, really. I can do it", she insisted and I just shot her look. She sighed, throwing her hands up with an attitude before wincing and placing her hand onto her side shortly after.

I frowned as I watched her move around the island with a look of discomfort, feeling bad for her, "So are you going to tell me what happened to you or not?"

"No", was all she said as she went back to her seat on the couch, groaning a bit. I watched her face scrunch up while she appeared to be in agony, sighing before getting up to get the container of aspirin from my bedroom then handing it to her once I had entered the living room. She thanked me and took the lid off, wasting no time to pop of the pills two into mouth and swallowing it dry. Damn. I was still standing there when she slowly turned her head to look up at me then rolled her eyes on frustration shortly after, "Will you cut it out? You're overdoing it with all the staring."

I scoffed, shaking my head and placing my hands onto my hips as I kept my gaze on her, "Well, excuse the fuck out of me for trying to be helpful and show some empathy—"

"Oh, here we go", she grumbled, waving me off.

I released a dry laugh, in disbelief at how ungrateful she was, "Yeah, here we go. I don't have to do anything for you, Melissa. You're taking your anger out on me as if I'm the one who beat your ass and if you want me to be honest with you, I should've after the shit you pulled."