if you need to go back a few chapters to jog your memory, please do. sorry for the delay! 😭🤎
Sundays were Cleo's favorite. The store was closed, leaving her able to paint, smoke, nap, catch up with JJ, or whatever else her tired heart desired. But before she could indulge in the laziness this rainy day promoted, she needed the Word that would motivate her to get through another week.
She slammed her car door and ran with JJ with a newspaper over her head, not wanting to ruin her 2-day old blowout. Even though she was used to braids, she knew rain was a Black girl's enemy when their hair was freshly done.
A breath of relief left her lips when they entered the small church, now out of the rain. A faint hymn was being played on the organ as others filed in so she quietly pulled JJ to the last pew in the back and sat down. As she took off her jacket, she scanned the back of the heads in front of her, stopping at one she recognized.
There was a sketch of an 8-ball hidden among the rest of the intricate tattoos that trailed down his neck, but it stood out the more she serviced him at the liquor store.
Ticket was seated next to an elder in her 70's or 80's and Cleo watched as they whispered between themselves back and forth. He started to turn his head around and she snapped her eyes away, pretending to flip through the Bible in her lap. She felt his eyes land on her, but she kept her gaze down, not wanting to be recognized.
When a considerable amount of time passed, she brought her head back up, but was shocked to see he was still looking. She slightly panicked, noticeably widening her eyes and forcing an awkward smile on her face.
He brought two fingers to his forhead and saluted her before turning back around.
"Who is that?" JJ leaned in and whispered.
"Just somebody from the store."
"Right..." he said with suspicious eyes, "That's who you got your hair and nails done for?"
"What? No!"
"I'm just saying...You got all gushy when he just looked at you then you all of a sudden got a new look? Something ain't adding up."
"Mind your damn business, JJ," she said through gritted teeth.
"Stop cursing in the Lord's house, Cleo," he mocked.
She blew air out of her nose and turned the attention to the pastor who began to speak.
And as the pastor approached his sermon, she tried her hardest to focus her drifting mind. She couldn't stop thinking about Friday night and the thrill she got from it. She had never done something as dangerous and daring as that and it excited her, against her better judgement. It filled her ego to be complimented as much as Baldman had done, even though the opinion of men never mattered to her. She felt like she had stepped into a new element and she wanted to do it again. God, forgive me for what I'm thinking about in your church, she thought to herself.
When they left the club, Ticket insisted on driving her home because she was past the point of inebriation, but even her drunk mind wouldn't reveal to him where JJ laid his head. Cleo insisted he take her to Twon's where her car was parked so she could drive herself home. After 20 minutes of back and forth, she finally relented and drunkenly gave him the directions to her house.
He knew she lived in Eastwood, but she never mentioned how deep in Eastwood. His hand didn't leave his 19 as he watched her walk into her apartment; she wouldn't let him walk her up, which he respected.
He called her when he made it home to make sure she was okay, then made a mental note to tell Nayeli to gather as much information on Cleo Saunders as she could. He knew she wouldn't be open to all the questions that circulated in his mind about her.
