The Billionaire Throuple

Nehemiah Jones

The driver pulls up to Sammy's front door. I hop out and give him the nod before he takes off. The ride from the school can't be more than thirty minutes, but it cost a full day's pay. I gotta get on this Uber thing. All I need is a new car and twenty stacks to pay back Sammy.

Damn. I ain't excited for this talk, but I'm gonna handle it. Ain't nothing else I can do. He knows I'm here 'cause he opened the gate. And since I ain't rolling up in his G-Wagon, he gotta be smart enough to put two and two.

I walk up to the door.
It swings open before I get to it.

Sammy comes running and throws his arms around me like he read through the option on D. "I was so worried. I wanted to call you so badly, but I didn't want to seem needy."

I smile 'cause I can hear him grunting from how hard he's trying to squeeze me, but it ain't really working out. I let him do his thing, but the guilt is killing me. I wanna put it all out there and see if he still wants to touch me. He takes my hand and pulls me inside. I roll with it. I'll wait until he's sitting to break the news.

"While you were away, the most insane thing happened," he says, "You won't believe it."

I shake my head. I find it hard to believe whatever he says is gonna top mine, but I'm gonna let him go first. We end up in one of his living rooms. He's got two that I know of. There's the sunken one by the kitchen with the fireplace, but we're in the one straight past the double staircases.

It's got a red oak grand piano leading up to it and a light brown couch shaped like a boomerang that can fit maybe, ten people. Three cushy chairs are spaced out along the curve of the couch, facing an area rug with one of those smart, refrigerated coffee tables on it.

He grabs some papers that are laying face down and squats on the couch. I sit down next to him and look at him for the first time since I got here. My jaw drops. I been so down about the news I gotta tell him, I didn't notice he's all banged up: cuts, scratches, a bruised eye.

"Where's Andreas?" I ask, "Y'all get in a scrap?"

"Yes, he's with the police." He waves me down 'cause I'm already itching to get up. "As a witness. The fight wasn't with him."

"Then, who did this to you?" I stand up, even though I just sat down. I'm for sure ready to box some one up for Sammy. That, I know I can deal with. And not 'cause I crashed his ride. This would be on the house.

"No, no, you cannot go after him," he says. I look down at him like 'watch me'. "I mean, it's impossible. He is in police custody. He'll likely be in jail soon, if he isn't already." He pats the cushion beside him. "Please, sit down."

I let out a deep breath before sitting again. I hate the thought of somebody beating up on Sammy, but if it's dealt with, it's dealt with. "Who was it though? And how'd it happen? Was it a break in or some?"

He winces. I slow my roll, realizing I'm still heated. He can't answer my questions if I ain't giving him time. He sets a hand on my lap. I'd be all about it if I didn't have more bad news.

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he's trying to smile, but can't. "Cameron Wallace attacked me. He came here asking about you," he says. I'm already shaking my head, getting ready to tell him how that's not possible, when he turns over the papers and spreads them out on the coffee table. "He brought naked photos of Andreas and there are some of you as well."

I look down at the photos. I don't wanna believe it, but the proof is right in front of me. There are ones I only sent to CW. I'm stunned. I can't even think. I feel sick to my stomach over this, guilty as well.

"It's all my fault man, It's all my fault. I should've never left out," I say. It takes me a minute to find my voice 'cause I'm getting choked up. "He would've never came here if I met him at the school. Some asshole smashed into your G-wagon when I was making a call, then drove off."