Shut Up & Listen - Chapter 65: Chapter 65

"Mmm, shit baby." Cole moaned into my ear while I  was over him. He pulled his hands from the side of him and put one on his neck. He furrowed his brows, but tightened my grip making him moan louder. "Fuck." I whispered, my rhythm get slower and rougher. I could feel my dick in hit his prostate and his back arched.
"Yeah, nigga. Take that shit." I mumbled, putting a thumb into his mouth. He sucked it and looking me in my eyes while I kept up the pace inside of him. Then he flipped me over and held the bottom of my back down while he slammed into me. "Oh my god!" I yelled into the pillow I had my face buried in. "Take me daddy." He moaned sloppily making me chuckle, making him smile too. That smile was wiped away when I pulled his cheeks apart and slammed into his ass like he had done something to me. A mix of a whine and a moan escaped his mouth.
"What's gotten into you?" He asked, smiling at me. We were laying on our backs on the bed. I shrugged my shoulders.
"I ain't know you was freaky like that. I like it." He said, chuckling. He rolled over on his stomach and placed his lips on mine. Our eyes connected when he lifted up resting on his elbows.
"And you?." I asked him, looking at his face.
"Shit, a night in the pen will do that to a nigga." He just laid back, watching me as I gathered my things for a shower.
"You a fool, nigga." I said monotone, looking at my phone again like I had been all night.
"You waiting for a call or sumn, Cobe?"
"You 'on wanna hear about it." I replied, scrolling through my notifications again.
"Nah, believe or not, I care about what you care about." He looked over at me. "I'm serious, what's wrong?"
I sighed heavily, not really wanting to tell him.  "I'm worried... about Mo."
We made eye contact and he quietly sucked his teeth, but I still heard it, even over the music we had playing so my new nosey ass neighbor wouldn't hear us smashing.
"Why?"
"He was supposed to come over yesterday. He never showed up and I haven't heard from him. Like at all."
"Is that weird?"
"If it wasn't I wouldn't be worried 'bout it."
"You don't think he just ghosting you?"
Now it was my turn to suck my teeth. I rolled my eyes and went back to scrolling through my phone. "Why don't you call him?"
"I'm not dense, Cole, damn." I deadpanned the wall, "I been calling non fucking stop. And texting and DMing him on his socials. And nothing."
"Damn."
"Exactly. If I did that any other day he would tell me to chill, but not even that."
He laughed, "you be blowing him up like that on the regular?"
"No. Only when it's necessary."
He looked shocked. "You 'on ever blow me up like that."
"That's cuz you always right where the fuck you supposed to be, nigga."
"You flirting with other guys while your main dude is missing? Goddam."
"Yeah, I fuck 'em too." I mumbled, staring at my phone, "How you get outta jail so quick? I heard that security guard you fucked up is the chief son."
"No the fuck he not and I ain't go to Jail. Soon as they heard Adebanjo, they processed me out."
"Aight." I rolled my eyes at him bragging on that rich people shit, "But he is the chief son. I saw it on the news this morning."
He exhaled loud "Wait, the chief of what? You saying he a Native American or something?"
"The Chief of Police dum dum. Nigga didn't you vote for him?"
"Nigga everybody votes, you think that mean I know the nigga I voted for? Them just some names on a paper. His name sounded the blackest so I checked that box."
"Imma have to ask you to not vote anymore. An uninformed vote is worse than not voting at all."
"Cobe."  He looked at me, "YOUR VOTE DON'T MEAN SHIT ANYWAY." I walked over to my backpack and pulled out my charger. "The game is rigged, they playing you and everybody else." He laughed. "Stupid ass country."
"Shut the hell up. I forgot not talk about politics with your Malcom X wanna-be ass. But back to the original conversation, what he do to you?"
"Who?" He asked real oblivious.
"The nigga you knocked out? He fuck yo bitch?" He asked, making his own self laugh earning a middle finger from me. "Then what? I only ever seen you fight when you in the club or a party some shit. Don't tell me you was lit in the middle of the day."
I fidgeted with my clothes I had balled up in my hands deciding wether I wanted him to tell me the truth. I could tell he was thinking the same thing. "If it got sumn to do with you know who... I already know y'all fucking bro. Just tell me." I said, unconvincingly, but I told him anyway. He was hesitant, but at this point, we know way too much of eachother to even be embarrassed or ashamed of anything anymore. The only plus that came out of us fucking. He sighed, standing up from the bed.
"That nigga had a video, he was gone send it out tryna ruin my career." He said as vaguely as possible. "I wasn't having that shit."
"Still got the video tho don't he?"
"Yeah but-"
"But nothing nigga. Now you tried to kill the chief son and he got dirt on you. You should be worried. If he wasn't planning on ruining you before, he sho is now. And now, he got his dad backing him up. And to top it off, you not even responsible for just your name, you're ya pops legacy, bro. How un-fucking-fortunate for you."
"How un-fucking-fortunate for you that your gangbanging boyfriend is ghosting you."
"All you do is talk shit. You don't see me with hella enemies trying to ruin my life do you? Hell naw because I mind my fucking business and I don't talk shit."
"Nigga what? King shit talker telling me I deserve this? If anything, you wished this shit on me. Any fucking time shit don't go your way, you all but wish I was dead. Well guess what, I hope your Arab nigga is fucking dead. What other reason would he have for ditching a nigga with such a refreshing personality and such good ass?" He said sarcastically and all of it went in one ear and out the other except for the part when he called Mo 'that Arab nigga' which sound too familiar. Ha ha, he bout to get his shit blowed in.
"Imma ignore the part where you wished death on 'my Arab nigga', and skip over to the part where you used Lonnie's terminology. You blow up my life, then pick up the pieces and try them on for yourself like a hoe, my nigga." I stopped talking when my phone dinged. But Cole kept going.
"OH I'm the hoe? I'm a hoe now, okay. Oh okay, Cobe. You literally fuck every nigga that talks to you, how am I the hoe?"
I opened the video I was sent and my ears got hot and I could feel my face was slowly turning red, "get the fuck out." I mumbled, I just looked at him with my hands out at either side of my body in confusion. He got up out of the bed and trudged over to me as the pressure began to build up behind my eyes, I be damned if I cry in front of this idiot, "GET OUT!" I yelled, pushing on his chest, trying to turn him around. I'm not even sad or hurt, I'm just overwhelmed and I can't fucking think while he's nagging.
"What's wrong?" He asked.  But I just wanted him to leave so that I could figure out what the fuck I just saw.
Instead of leaving like I asked, he held me, close to him. He always wanna hug some fucking body. He looked sincere, but if he'd known what I just got sent to me, he'd be running. In the calmest tone I'd ever heard myself use, I stood aside and told him, "Can you just leave, Bro?"
"What?" He asked. "Can you just tell me what happened?" He tried reaching for my phone, but I kept it away. Then he tried to kiss me which I avoided. A sting went through my chest because I knew something was wrong. I couldn't keep on pretending all this shit isn't fucked up anymore.
Once he finally left and I locked the doors behind him, I unlocked my phone. I opened the text message thread from an unknown East Detroit number. There it was clear as day. This has to be the video Cole was referring to. I hesitantly opened it.
The text with the video said, "Damn all three of Yo niggas in one video 😂😭😮‍💨 this is a MUST WATCH!"
I watched the whole thing and at the end of it someone had stitched another video... the time stamp showed that it was last night around the time Mo was supposed to be headed over.
It was so blurry but I could see a tan truck that had to be Mohammed's. He was getting out then I saw a man walking out of the front towards the truck with his hand in the back of his pants. He pulled something out and was sneaking up behind him. I turned it off before I saw anything I couldn't unsee. My body froze then suddenly I was on the floor, balled up like a baby with my back up against the couch. Fear overtook me. I let out a scream yell that was surely drowned out by the music I had forgotten was even on. I can't even cry. I tried so hard to but I just got dry heaving staggered breaths that threatened to choke me if I tried it again. He's dead. I know it. I know he is. I can feel it in my bones all the way down to the marrow.
I went back to the message, reading the number again, "who is this?" I texted back, finally thinking logically for the first time this year, honestly. I waited ten minutes just sitting in this exact spot, staring at my phone, constantly touching the screen so that it wouldn't time out, turning black. Not a peep. Who the hell is fucking with me like this? I was close to throwing my phone up against a wall when I heard a knock at the door.
I forced myself to get up and go towards it. Standing in the center of the room, I tried to collect myself so I could at least come off as fine, if not perfectly fine.
"Co it's me, Q." I heard along side another knock. He never comes to me, it's always the other way around. I opened the door, and he smiled real big with a large bag of food in his hand. "Surprise." He said nonchalantly, as he does, and walked into the living room.
"Woah." He stopped. "Woah, either I'm too fucking high or you was fucking." He side eyed me, finding the kitchen. He placed the bags on the counter and I went to turn off the music and close the bedroom door.
"Sorry, I wasn't expecting company." I mumbled, leaning up against the wall not wanting to be too close because of the smell he was obviously referring to.
"Don't worry bout it."
"What you doing here Q?"
"I sensed you needed me." He said, placing the containers neatly across the counter. "And this good ass curry." He added. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?" Q asked, standing up to look for plates in the cabinets.
I just sighed and sat down, ready to tell him everything.