Torn (28 page)

One particular day, Mo, Mrs. Mitchell, Diggy's girlfriend Tara and one of her girlfriends were in the kitchen gossiping when Quan decided to make another unexpected visit. The first person he spotted was Mo.

"Oh, it's a whole bunch of y'all in here today," he joked.

"What's up, ma?" Quan kissed his mother's cheek.

"How you doing, baby?"

"Good. What's up, Tara? Where my nephew?"

"Wit yo' brother," she answered, sitting on a barstool.

"Oh. What's up, Chloe?"

"Hey, Quan."

"What y'all chickens in here yapping about?"

"Who you callin' a chicken?" Tara challenged, rolling her neck.

"You right, y'all ain't no chickens, more like a bunch of rats."

"Ahh!" Tara gasped.

"I'm just playin'." Quan laughed. "Nah, for real, what y'all talkin' about?"

"We're discussing relationship issues and I know you gon' speak to Mo?" his mother questioned, displeased by her son's behavior.

"My bad. What's up, Mo? I ain't even see you right there," he spoke to her for the first time in weeks.

Giving him a nasty look, Mo rolled her eyes.

"Mama, you want me to check on the cornbread?" she asked, ignoring Quan.

"Will you please?"

"What you cooking?" Quan quizzed.

"Some collard greens and cornbread. You want some?"

"Nah, I'm good. In a minute I'ma head over to Sweetie Pie's, but first I'ma get me something to drink." He opened the refrigerator.

"So Mrs. Mitchell, like I was saying, the guy I'm messing wit, Earl, be trippin'. Half the time when I call him he don't answer the phone. Then when we do talk it's like for maybe five or ten minutes. And the only time he call me is when he on his way to work or when he on his break," Chloe stated, needing advice.

"Do y'all spend any time together?"

"I see him maybe once a week if that. He claim he be tired all the time."

"I don't mean to butt into y'all conversation, but why you fuckin' wit a nigga name Earl anyway? You must be hard up for a man. Ain't that somebody daddy?" Quan interrupted as he fixed himself a glass of Kool-Aid.

"First of all, watch your damn mouth 'cause I'm about two seconds off yo' ass anyway! Now say you're sorry! That was so rude!" Mrs. Mitchell scolded.

"What? I'm keepin' it real! All y'all gon' do is sugar coat the shit. Yo, Mo, you want some?" he asked, placing his cup up to her lips.

"No!" She moved her head away.

"Here, take a sip, it's cold."

"What is wrong wit you? I don't want any," she said, looking at him like he was crazy.

"Nothing. You just looked thirsty."

"Well I'm not."

"Go 'head on Chloe, finish tellin' yo' story," Mrs. Mitchell instructed, giving her son a weird look.

"Like I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I don't know what to do. I mean I really like this guy and he acts like he like me, but I hardly ever get to see him." While the women chatted, Quan took a seat on a barstool next to Tara and admired the way Mo was dressed. She was casually cute in a gray tunic top, black leggings and ankle boots. A wide black belt hung low on her waist. Mo's long, thick black hair was flat ironed bone-straight with a part in the middle. Quan loved when she wore her hair like that. It was one of his favorite styles.
Damn, I miss her
, he thought.

"So what you think I'm doing wrong, Mrs. Mitchell?" Chloe continued on.

"Have you ever read
He's Just Not That Into You
?" Quan chimed in, adding his two cents again.

"Excuse me?"

"I take it you haven't. Look, yo' boy is doing his thing."

"And what does that mean?"

"Man, I ain't got time to be explaining this to you. I got my own problems to deal with. Ain't that right, Mo?"

"Hmm, you tell me," she shot back sarcastically.

"Nah, tell me what you think, Quan. I wanna know what y'all men be thinking?" Chloe continued.

"Check it, the dude ain't feelin' you like that, and he got a girl, so my advice to you is to do like me and Mo did and split." "Oh, you have lost yo' mind," Mo stated, ready to slap fire out of his mouth.

"Hey, I'm just tellin' it like it is. When a nigga feelin' you he gon' let it be known. And evidently whoever this cat is she messing wit ain't, 'cause if he was, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now, ya dig. "

"But why couldn't he just come out and say that? Why he gotta lie and play games?"

"Has he hit it?"

"Quan?!" Mrs. Mitchell exclaimed with her mouth wide open.

"Mama, calm down. We all grown up in here. Now has he?" Gazing around the room, Chloe reluctantly answered "Yeah."

"Then that's why. It must have been good, and he liked it, so he keepin' you around as his lil' side piece. If you don't like being a jump-off, quit messing wit him."

"Oh my God, I can't believe he was using me. I really liked him." Chloe poked out her lips, defeated.

"Hey, that's the way life goes."

"How you gon' give somebody relationship advice?" Mo scoffed. "You don't know if that man got a woman or not. He could be tellin' the truth."

"Chloe, straight up don't listen to them. They gon' have you sittin' up here lookin' stupid wit a broken heart. I'm tellin' you."

"You would know about broken hearts, wouldn't you?" Mo remarked.

"Yeah, 'cause since the moment you left, that's how mine has been," he said sincerely, telling the truth. Suffocated by his response, Mo sat frozen stiff.

"Okay, is this conversation about me and my boo or you two?" Chloe asked, perplexed.

"Don't worry about all that. Mo, I'm gettin' ready to head over to Sweetie Pie's, you want something?"

"No."

"You sure?"

"I said I'm fine," she stressed.

"What about us?" Tara shot with an attitude.

"What about you?"

"I know you gon' ask us if we want something to eat?"

"You want something to eat, Tara?"

"No."

"Then what you ask for?" he asked, playfully mushing her in the head.

"Don't be mushing me in the head, punk!" She laughed, hitting him back.

"This your last chance, Mo. I'm gettin' ready to go."

"Okay, go."

"Come on, girl, quit frontin'. You know want some of they mac and cheese," he joked.

"Girl, if you don't go with this boy before I smack him..." Mrs. Mitchell insisted.

"But I don't want to," Mo lied, knowing damn well she did.

"Please just go for me, 'cause he is driving me nuts." As they made their way outside, Mo watched the way Quan bopped to the car in his familiar thugged-out way. She loved to see him walk. There was just something so sexy about his stride. If there was one thing she couldn't deny, it was her attraction to him. He looked good as hell in an army fatigue baseball cap, green bomber jacket, black tee, jeans and Tims.

As usual, he wore his diamond stud earring, but this time he switched up and rocked a diamond pinky ring on his right hand. But no matter how fine he was, Quan was the type of nigga that brought out her violent streak. Any and all sense she had went out the window when she was in his presence.

"Do you mind if I stop by the house before we go?" he asked as she buckled her seat belt.

"I don't care, Quan," she responded dryly.

"You know you owe me for fuckin' up my shit."

"I don't owe you nothing," Mo smirked, gazing out the passenger window.

"Yeah, a'ight, we'll see."

Fifteen minutes later, they pulled up to their house. Mo hadn't seen it in so long that if felt like she was in foreign ter-ritory.

"You coming in?"

"What, you want me to?" she asked, getting smart.

"You can stay yo' ass out here in the cold if you want to. I don't care."

"Whateva, I think I left my curling iron in there anyway," Mo snapped, getting out. After pretending to look for her iron, she stood by the door with her arms folded across her chest.

"What you standing there lookin' all crazy for?" Quan asked, turning on the stereo.

"I thought we were going to get something to eat."

"We are, just chill for a minute." Mo hesitantly took off her coat and placed it on the back of the couch. Quan had turned on the fireplace, so she took a seat in front of it Indian style. Tank's heart wrenching ballad "
Please Don't Go
" was playing, softly soothing her ears. Tears immediately welled up in her eyes. She knew Quan was playing the song for her. Holding back her emotions, Mo kept her composure.

"You know that shit you did was fucked up," he announced out of nowhere.

"Did you ask me to come in here so we can argue, 'cause that's what's gon' happen if you keep talkin'." "I just can't get over the shit," he chuckled, taking a seat on the floor next to her. Without asking, Quan grabbed each of Mo's legs, placed them on his lap, and then took off her shoes.

"What I wanna know is, besides your mother, who else knew?"

"Who else knew what?" Quan pretended to play dumb while massaging her feet.

"Who else knew about the baby?"

"Nobody," he lied. He would never sell out his boys, especially not Cam. If Mo found out her brother knew, she would kill him.

"I can't keep doing this shit wit you, Mo," he continued.

"I can't keep doing this wit you, either. It's like one minute I love you then in the next breath I hate you. Sometimes it feels like being wit you is like dying a slow fuckin' death. It shouldn't be like this. Loving you shouldn't be this hard."

"I feel you. I be thinking the same thing."

"I mean, don't get me wrong, I love you, but this shit is crazy. I shouldn't have to fight with you on a daily basis."

"You right, you shouldn't, but you gotta learn how to trust me, Mo. Without trust, things between us ain't gon' never be right."

"But how am I ever gonna be able to put my trust in you after this? Huh? You had a baby on me. I can't forgive you for that," Mo explained in agony.

"Why not? I can forgive you."

"Quan, please. No you can't."

"How you gon' tell me what I'm gon' be able to do?" he asked with his forehead scrunched up.

"'Cause I know you. I don't even see why we're having this conversation. Things will never be the same between us."

"Don't say that, ma. We can work this shit out." "I want to Quan, I do, but--"

Frustrated, Quan cut her off and yelled, "But nothing!

Quit saying we can't make it work, 'cause we can! Don't you know I can't see myself being wit nobody else but you? Even when I sleep at night all I see is you! Maybe if it was somebody else and the history was different I could cut all my ties and move on, but you're a part of my life, Mo! I've tried to move on! Believe me, ma, I've tried! But all I do is think of you. It's like I can't get you outta my head or something! And yo, I know what I did was fucked up but I love you and I'm sorry!

Just come home, a'ight! A nigga been sick without you, for real."

"But Quan--"

Tired of going back and forth, Quan palmed Mo's face with his hands and silenced her with a kiss. As he enveloped her lips, Mo could feel her spirit rise and leave her chest. Here they were, doing it again. Filling each other up with promises neither knew they would keep. She knew this feeling of ecstasy wouldn't last, but the sweet taste of sin erupted each time they kissed. Her legs were wrapped around his back as she became lost in his eyes once again.

Quan was lost as well. He knew that what they were attempting to do was wrong, but the feeling of joy consumed him. He knew that if he asked her back, he'd promise that things would be different. He wouldn't let her down or make her suffer. But Quan could never be what Mo wanted him to be.
Why can't we just trust each other?
he wondered as a tear fell from his eye onto her face. This needed to end, but here they were trying to defeat failure again.

With tear-filled eyes, Mo told herself that at the first sign of disappointment, she was gone. But loving Quan felt so fulfilling. When things were good, he filled her insides with butterflies. Then when things were bad, he instantly morphed from her lover to her opponent in a matter of seconds.
When
is this gonna end?
she thought as they gazed into each other's eyes, exchanging breaths.

Lovingly, Quan placed his lips upon hers and kissed her with so much intensity that she felt as if she was drowning, drowning in a pool of uncertainty. The touch of his hands caressing and massaging her face felt like heaven. Suddenly his hand was in between her thighs. One finger, two fingers, three fingers ... four.

Mo knew that once she came and the pleasure of forbidden passion faded, pain would take its place and the cycle of abuse would began all over again. But she couldn't think about that right now. His lips were exploring hers, tantalizing and teasing. Quan's tongue tasted so sweet. She could never let this feeling go. She would be an absolute fool if she did.