Lighter Shade of Brown (Urban Fiction) BWHM

Chapter 5

After they finished eating, Cleo washed the dishes, while C's sat at the table absently turning over the brick of cocaine as he tried to put his thoughts in order. He'd promised his chick that he would tell her about how he got down, but he'd begun to have second thoughts. Not because he didn't trust her. Truth be sold, he'd never let a girl get as close to him as he'd let her, and some of his bitches he'd dealt with for years. No. The only problem he had with Cleo knowing about his grind was her becoming involved in something as trife as his day to day. It would be so easy for his dirt to get her filthy. By unspoken rule, nobody associated with the life was exempt from the harsh judgment of street justice. That was just the way shit went down in the field.

If he was treal, he'd feed baby girl, take her home and keep her the fuck out his lane, but in the end when it came down to doing the right thing everything grimey and selfish about him came to light. He couldn't leave her alone. Not even for her own damn safety. How fucked up was that? Holding something you craved so tight that you eventually squeezed the life out of the very thing you swore to defend.

He shook his head to clear away the bullshit eating at his mental. What the hell was he tripping on? Of course that shit he'd contemplated on was BS in its rawest form. Of course he'd protect his baby. What other place could be safer for her than under his arm? He just needed to bust his craziness open and put it all on wood for her. Let her decide whether or not she could handle everything he was dropping.

With a sigh, C's cleared his throat. If she was going to be in his zone, then there was no way around the madness. She had to know. It was only fair. Fair. Humph. Another damn thing he didn't do before her. "Hey c'mere, bae. The dishes will hold." He held his hand out to her, when she turned to look at him. "We need to talk."

Dropping the dish rag in the soapy water, she spun on her heel and walked willingly into his embrace. Her arms slipped around his neck as her gaze searched his face. "Is this about what you do?"

"Yeah. Something like that." He answered, tightening his hold on her.

"You're a ghetto M.D. aren't you?" She asked her voice, barely loud enough to be considered a whisper.

C's shook his head. If she only knew. "I'm more like the block's weather man, baby. I'm that motherfucker who says if there's gonna be a drought or a snow storm comin' their way." He dipped his head to nuzzle her neck, feeling himself way too much.

"What's that mean?" She leaned away from him, taking her sweet throat with her.

His arms fell to his sides. "I run shit in my yard. And this..." He snatched the key off the counter, holding it up. "Along with my nine, is what got me shot callin' around this bitch.  Guaranteed Benjamin's, baby. And you betta believe yo' boy move more weight than Heavy D and the Fat Boyz put together."

"Like how Tech runs the Ninth," she said more as a statement than a question.

Oh hell no! His game was slicker and tighter than Tech's old tired ass hustle. "Naw, Trouble. Tech don't have the heart to get down like I do. Shit, the only reason he still hangs on to the Ninth is because of Trey. If it wasn't for his brother's buck ass somebody would've been snaked that spot from his incompetent ass." C's dropped the coke back on the counter. "Homeboy try to be friends with everybody and shit. Instead of showing them who the fuck the boss is. What his pussy ass fails to realize is, fear lasts way longer than love. That's gonna do his ass in one day. Humph. The one he loves the most, is gonna be that same motherfucker who puts one in his dome. Watch what I tell you, yo. I see that type of shit play out like that all the time out here."

"That's messed up." She mumbled staring at the key on the table. "I don't really know him, but I'd hate to see something like that happen to him." Her gaze swung back to drink him down. "Or you. My chest couldn't take the blow if it did. Life support would be a must."