Nyla Bridges has dedicated her entire life to becoming the best FBI agent the agency has seen. Working twice as hard because she's a woman... a black woman... to show that she is just as capable, if not more, than her predominantly white, male colle...
Please excuse any errors. I can't look at this chapter for another minute, right now. I apologize for the wait.
Sunday, October 24th, 2013 5:02 AM
Elijah D.
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I entered the penthouse, quietness falling upon my ears with the only source of light being that from the hood that hung over the range. I sat my luggage in front of the door, and sauntered through the open layout of the main level and into the kitchen. I tossed my keys and wallet on the island countertop before turning on the ceiling lights-my father who was seated at the dining table immediately coming into view. I was surprised that he was still here but I didn't possess the patience to inquire. Although the conference was successful-locking the deputy federal security director who oversees five California airports, Liam Garner, into a five year contract with seventy-five million dollars to be paid out to him over the course of the contract for transportation of my products-it felt like a long trip and all I wanted to do was lay inside of Nyla and relax.
I pulled at the handle of the stainless steel refrigerator, and reached for a bottle of Gatorade. "Nice woman you have." After shutting the refrigerator door I looked over to my father, "what?"
"I said that's a nice woman you have. She brung this when she got in last night," he held up the White Castle paper bag. "I didn't see it until a few minutes ago when I came down to get a glass of water. She even had all of the different toppings and condiments bagged separately so I could fix it up to my liking. A woman that still feeds you when you've pissed her off is something special." I knitted my eyebrows and cocked my head to the side, "what do you mean you pissed her off?"
"We were having a discussion about you and I guess I said some things that she didn't want to hea-"
"I can't even come home and peacefully get some pussy without you trying to fuck with my mood," I chuckled whilst shaking my head and pinching the bridge of my nose. I sat the Gatorade on the breakfast bar and ran my hand down my face, letting out a deep sigh, "I don't know what's more fucked up-the fact that you would sit in my house and speak down on me to my woman or the fact that I'm not surprised you'd do something like that."
I crossed my arms over my chest and shrugged my shoulders while squinting my eyes at him, "what were you hoping to gain? Did you think she would see me in the same way you do and shun me the same way you did?" He rose from the chair and walked over to the trashcan, lifting the lid and placing the paper bag inside of the bin, "that wasn't my intention, Elijah."
"Then what was it? It wasn't enough that time and time again I've allowed you to put me down and belittle me, and each time I had to take it to the chest because that's what a 'strong black boy' would do? There's only so many blows a chest can take before it caves, pops. But you see, when mine began to cave in I didn't crumble-instead I kept hope that one day you'd find it in your heart to just be my father and all of the hurt that came from your words would be worth it.
