Criminal Affection [BEYNIKA]

Embracing the Unspoken

Onika

(same day from previous chapter)

A couple of hours had passed since when me and Bey were in the car, and I was told what happened. She told me everything that went down at the house and how the man threatened to shoot her if someone tried to help her. It's actually crazy how insane people can be, and ruthless just to get what they want, and what he wanted was Beyoncé.

The real crazy part of this though is the fact Beyoncé is acting completely normal, well not completely. Once we got to my house, for about 2 hours she just laid on top of me with her face deep in my neck while she squirmed in her sleep. She also wasn't hungry. Usually, the first thing she asks when she comes over or even enters my house is do I got something to eat. The worst part is she won't keep a conversation with me, and I know I can't ask the people she was with what happened because I doubt, she told them. It was scaring me. When she woke up after the nap, she took on me, she just laid there and asked me to rub her neck. According to her, the only harm the man did to her was the grip on her neck. I believe that, but what about her mental? This isn't my Bey.

"Baby?" I know she isn't sleep; she's moving too much to be sleep. She responded with a hum. "Are you sure you're, okay?" Without answering she rolled off of me. She was looking at the ceiling. This was the first time I saw her face in a minute.

"This is what I was doing the whole time," she shook her head and chuckled to herself. I guess she's referring to looking up like that. "That's why he ain't got no bitch now, see how rough he was on me," she laughed again, also at her own expense. "He was talking bad about me, ma" her voice cracked, and she turned to look at me. Like everything else she was saying wasn't to me, but this was.

"Bad how?" I moved closer to her to rub her cheek. Her eyes were red, as if she had been silently crying, her hair was still in that bun, but some strands of hair hung out. Her hoodie was somewhere on the floor, leaving her in a plain black shirt. She changed out her jeans again as soon as we got home into some basketball shorts that she already had here.

"Appearance wise, at first, then he asked me 'the fuck are you'," her eyebrows scrunched up as if she was confused on why she was being treated like that. "So, I shoved my gun down his throat, I wanted to kill him, bad" she looked me in the eyes, "But I know deep down I didn't." Beyoncé told me that the reason she doesn't kill anymore is because her father was shot dead. She's told me about him on several different occasions, whether it be about how he was when he was alive or how he was towards his tragic end. Sometimes she'd just randomly mention him, like memories pop into her head about him. She's only ever vented to one person about her father, and I've already crossed out that person being her brother, she told me she thinks he's still mad about what happened.

"Because of your father?" she nodded.

"I loved him so much," she turned back to the ceiling, "But I let him die."