A WIDOW’S SCARS by Monique M

Author:Monique, M
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: AJ PRESENTS
Published: 2023-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

SAADIQ MONTCLAIR

A few weeks later…

“What’s up, Pops?”

I walked into my dad’s house, with him assessing me under his low, bushy, eyebrows. Clearly something was on his mind from the way he continued to assess me even as I made it to the living room.

“Did I grow another inch?” I asked jokingly.

Nesha came from the back hallway, a smile on her face.

“Hello, there. Long time no see.”

I hugged Nesha and disputed her claim. “I was here a few weeks ago.”

“Exactly,” Pops pitched in. “Haven’t seen ya face. You wanna text and call like we live in two different cities…” He was still studying me, causing me to laugh.

“Aight, mane. What is it?” I finally asked. Nesha giggled and left us in the living room to go into the kitchen.

“It’s you. You’re different.”

“Different how, Pops.”

“I’on know.”

He circled me like I wasn’t the man he’d raised since I was eleven.

“That young lady…”

“What young lady?”

Pops was acting strange as shit. He was getting up in age. Going to the couch, he grabbed the remote and switched to the sports network.

“That young lady. I saw a picture of the two of you on that damn podcast that the local news is pushing. That boy sure can’t get over the fact that you beat his ass.” Pops’ was right. Rock was still on his fuckboy shit, mentioning my name whenever he had the opportunity.

Forgetting Rock, I focused on the television.

On the screen was the beautiful woman I’d woken up to this morning. She woke me up with her gushy walls wrapped around my dick. I wondered how much makeup it took to cover up the bite mark I put on her neck. Lowkey I chuckled. The collar of the beige blouse she wore did nothing to hide the assault my teeth caused her. Because I knew it was there, despite the makeup, I stared, biting into my bottom lip.

She looked fine as fuck sitting at that round table amongst four muhfuckas I knew wanted to have their day with her. Why production placed her right in the center of the four men was bothersome. She was the focal point of each of their gazes. They couldn’t even answer a question and face the camera without their eyeballs shifting to catch another glimpse of my woman.

For a few weeks now, I’d been cautiously learning Samara. Trusting a woman wasn’t my thing and never would be. The most I could do was pay attention and catch her fuck ups at the slightest implication of one. My guard wasn’t coming down for shit. Not even for Samara.

Which really was a shame.

The first night I slept in her bed, I was so attached to the smell of her that I played hooky from work and slept in that bitch all day. Since Samara, my sleeping patterns had drastically changed. I was noticeably more rested than ever. Sleeping next to her kept my nightmares at bay, too.

One morning I woke up, not realizing I’d slept the whole night without a single sweat.

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