Lighter Shade of Brown (Urban Fiction) BWHM

Chapter 7

"She alright?" The sound of his mom's voice, tore half of his attention away from Cleo.

His gaze flicked to the entry of his room. Ant and his moms crowded the doorway, both staring at his girl like she was a countdown clock strapped to a shit load of explosives. The added bodies in his spot provoked Cleo to burrow deeper into his embrace, burying her face in the center of his pecks.

Tightening his hold around the trembling bundle in his lap, he nodded as he tried to swallow the thickness in his throat. "Everything chill, ma. We were goin' through a lil' light, but we ten now."

Angela stared around the room, her gaze sweeping over the money scattered over the mattress. Fuck! The last thing he needed was for her to start asking questions. Adjusting Cleo so that he could support her weight with one arm, he grabbed the comforter's edge hanging off the side and tossed the downy material over the bed, covering the money. He cut his eyes back in her direction, in time to see Ant shake his head at him, in disbelief. Yeah he knew that would be his ass later, but what the hell could he do?

Ignoring the obvious, his mom strolled further in to the room, re-knotting the belt at the waist of her white terry cloth robe. She kneeled beside him to stroke the curls at the edge of Cleo's hairline. "You want me to have a look at you, mija? Wait here and I can go get my bag."

Mija? His mom never called any of the chicks he brought home that.

Cleo shook her head without looking up. "No, mam. I'm okay. Just need a second to pull everything back."

"Okay." Angela nodded, and then stood. "Well I don't leave for work until six-thirty, so if you change your mind before then let me know."

"Thank you," Cleo said her voice muffled from having her face pressed into his shirt.

"You're welcome, sweetheart." Angela's warm gaze left the messy bond on top of Cleo's head, only to turn ice cold when her stare fell on him. "I need to speak with you downstairs, Caesar."

"In a minute-,"

She cut him off. "Right now." Her thumb jerked towards the door in emphasis.

"Alright ma. Dang! Can you at least give me a second to handle this?" He sent Cleo a meaningful glance.

Tossing her head back to raise her chin, Angela leveled him with a glare only a pissed off mother could give. "Five minutes." She hissed in a clipped tone, before turning and stomping from the room, almost running Ant down as she went.

"You crazy?" Ant asked, leaning back to watch Angela stalk down the hall. "You done fucked up. She gonna let your ass have it, for real."

"Man forget that. How the hell do she think all the bills get paid around this bitch? With that nursing job? Puhlease." She fucked with his nerves, with all that gringo fairy tale shit she brought home from that hospital. Talking, about anybody can have the dream if they have the right education. She'd sold that same bullshit to his papa, and looked where he ended up. In the ground. Six, fucking, feet deep. He pressed his lips to his bae's temples. "Close my door, yo. And let my ma know we'll talk when I take her to work."

"You sure she alright?" Ant asked, straining his neck to see Cleo, who still refused to lift her face from his chest.

C's nodded. "Give us a minute to square our issues, niño."

When Ant closed the door C's, loosened his hold, drawing back a bit to peer down at Cleo. "We gotta squash this shit between us, bae." She tensed in his arms, he stroked her back, raining kisses down wherever he could until her slim frame relaxed. "Gotta let me clear it out if we gonna be okay. I wanna be okay with you."