Read Online Secrets of a Side Bitch by Jessica Watkins - Free Book Online
Authors: Jessica Watkins
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was yelling in desperation and had gotten the attention of everyone in the precinct.
“Ma’am, you need to calm down,” Officer Brown enforced. He even stood to make himself clearer.
“Tammy, let’s go,” Donte insisted as he stood.
I was so frustrated that I didn’t even force the issue. It was obvious that the police could do nothing for me until, God forbid, Jimmy had already successfully done something to me.
I walked out without saying another word. My tears were speaking for me. I could feel Donte right behind me, as he had always been during the last month of this tragic ordeal, guiding me out the precinct with his hand on my lower back and speaking positive and comforting words to me.
“It’s going to be okay. He hasn’t been able to find you at my house. You just can’t go back to work.”
As we stepped outside of the precinct, the blazing sun shot down on us. It was ninety-one degrees on a Friday evening. I should have been heading to the beach in a two piece instead of standing outside of a police precinct in a black suit.
I was so frustrated as I took off my suit jacket; revealing the cami that I wore underneath.
“You gotta calm down, Tammy. Don’t let this nigga make you sick. Stress will kill you.”
I tsked. “Hell, if Jimmy doesn’t kill me first!”
Donte didn’t find that funny. Good thing because I was dead serious. The world was on my shoulders as Donte led the way to his Range Rover. The mill in Gary was paying him well, so he upgraded last week from the 300 to a 2013 Range Rover. Watching him walk towards that Range Rover looking as good as he wanted to look in a wife beater and slightly sagging True Religions with Christian Louboutin sneakers made me want to smack the shit out of myself for ever leaving him.
Just watching the sweat drip from his bald head as he started the truck made me damn near forget my sorrows. It had been so hard being so close to Donte. I was still fighting the feelings that I had for him. I was still wondering if those feelings were genuine or if they were just in rebound of the bullshit I have been going through with Jimmy.
Donte snuck a peek at me as he approached a stop sign. Noticing my stern look, he laid a hand on my thigh and said, “Let’s go get a drink. You need one.”
I didn’t argue with him and as he continued to drive, his hand never left my exposed thigh, making my confusion grow from a small hill to Mount Everest. Donte and I had gotten even closer since I moved in with him. We spent so much time together. However, I was terribly confused about whether he was there out of interest or protection. I didn’t know whether he watched movies with me or took me to dinners as a friend or to spark what had once been.
My mountain of confusion grew even bigger a few hours later. After countless shots of Jack Daniels, he and I were dancing to “Tonight” by John Legend in a hole in the wall on the Southside of Chicago. We were both so sloppy drunk that we giggled uncontrollably and touched intimately. Though the pace of the song was a quick smooth tempo, we were close and moved slow in one another’s arms. The air conditioner in the lounge barely blew a cool breeze, so we exchanged sweat as our arms intertwined with one another’s.
With his head lightly pressed against my forehead, Donte began to speak to me. No matter how drunk and platonic his words were, they went straight to my heart. “I’m not gone let him hurt you.”
They were simple intoxicated words that spoke a sober truth. I knew that Donte
“Ma’am, you need to calm down,” Officer Brown enforced. He even stood to make himself clearer.
“Tammy, let’s go,” Donte insisted as he stood.
I was so frustrated that I didn’t even force the issue. It was obvious that the police could do nothing for me until, God forbid, Jimmy had already successfully done something to me.
I walked out without saying another word. My tears were speaking for me. I could feel Donte right behind me, as he had always been during the last month of this tragic ordeal, guiding me out the precinct with his hand on my lower back and speaking positive and comforting words to me.
“It’s going to be okay. He hasn’t been able to find you at my house. You just can’t go back to work.”
As we stepped outside of the precinct, the blazing sun shot down on us. It was ninety-one degrees on a Friday evening. I should have been heading to the beach in a two piece instead of standing outside of a police precinct in a black suit.
I was so frustrated as I took off my suit jacket; revealing the cami that I wore underneath.
“You gotta calm down, Tammy. Don’t let this nigga make you sick. Stress will kill you.”
I tsked. “Hell, if Jimmy doesn’t kill me first!”
Donte didn’t find that funny. Good thing because I was dead serious. The world was on my shoulders as Donte led the way to his Range Rover. The mill in Gary was paying him well, so he upgraded last week from the 300 to a 2013 Range Rover. Watching him walk towards that Range Rover looking as good as he wanted to look in a wife beater and slightly sagging True Religions with Christian Louboutin sneakers made me want to smack the shit out of myself for ever leaving him.
Just watching the sweat drip from his bald head as he started the truck made me damn near forget my sorrows. It had been so hard being so close to Donte. I was still fighting the feelings that I had for him. I was still wondering if those feelings were genuine or if they were just in rebound of the bullshit I have been going through with Jimmy.
Donte snuck a peek at me as he approached a stop sign. Noticing my stern look, he laid a hand on my thigh and said, “Let’s go get a drink. You need one.”
I didn’t argue with him and as he continued to drive, his hand never left my exposed thigh, making my confusion grow from a small hill to Mount Everest. Donte and I had gotten even closer since I moved in with him. We spent so much time together. However, I was terribly confused about whether he was there out of interest or protection. I didn’t know whether he watched movies with me or took me to dinners as a friend or to spark what had once been.
My mountain of confusion grew even bigger a few hours later. After countless shots of Jack Daniels, he and I were dancing to “Tonight” by John Legend in a hole in the wall on the Southside of Chicago. We were both so sloppy drunk that we giggled uncontrollably and touched intimately. Though the pace of the song was a quick smooth tempo, we were close and moved slow in one another’s arms. The air conditioner in the lounge barely blew a cool breeze, so we exchanged sweat as our arms intertwined with one another’s.
With his head lightly pressed against my forehead, Donte began to speak to me. No matter how drunk and platonic his words were, they went straight to my heart. “I’m not gone let him hurt you.”
They were simple intoxicated words that spoke a sober truth. I knew that Donte
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