The Guard To My Sanctuary

Chapter 55

Calloway

"Baby boy, you mind making Papi a sandwich? I got the munchies," Germany asked, playfully smacking my butt, watching it jiggle in my shorts as he giggled in amusement.

"Do you mind never speaking in the third person ever again?" I replied, turning toward him. He was sprawled out on my bed in just his boxers, giving me a perfect view of his bulge.

"Fine, and don't be stingy with the cheese," he said, crawling to the bottom of the bed and flipping me over to kiss me. His lips strayed to my neck, and he started sucking on my skin, which made me push him away.

"You did that on purpose," I grumbled, swinging my legs over the bed and wincing as my feet touched the cold floor. I hated how hickeys looked at me, but he loved leaving his marks.

I left the room and saw Cartier with her boyfriend, Marty, in Beo's room since she stayed with us for the week. Ozias had Beo holed up in his room, probably doing who knows what. I waved at them, and Cartier gave me a teasing glare.

"Stop staring at my man, you man-stealing whore," she said with an attitude.

"Bitch, I do what I want. If I wanted your man, I'd have him," I shot back, glancing at Marty, who just watched us with amusement. He was good-looking, brown-skinned, with a runner's build and tattoos covering his chest. Definitely Cartier's best boyfriend yet.

She smiled and blew me a kiss, which I returned before heading downstairs to the kitchen, where I found Ozias. He was shirtless, his neck covered in hickeys, making a pitcher of Kool-Aid.

"Hey, spawn," I greeted him as I walked in.

"Hey, Antichrist," he replied. I grabbed the cheese, mayo, ham, and mustard and went to the pantry for some bread, laying everything out on the counter.

"Look at you, playing house. So, how's the life of a wife?" he asked, smirking mischievously.

"Why don't you go pour yourself a glass of Pine-Sol instead of that Kool-Aid," I shot back, grabbing a butter knife to start on the sandwich.

"So sensitive," he teased, quickly changing the topic. "Guess what Maddox and Wylder are doing right now?"

"About time. I'm sick of cold water when I shower after Maddox," I said, piling extra cheese on Germany's sandwich.

"Oh, by the way, Dad called. They made it to Virginia safely and said they'll fill us in when they get back," he added, and my mood dropped.

A few days ago, Grandpa got a call from Great Uncle Kunaal, who'd been diagnosed with the same cancer that took my biological grandmother. All the adults had flown out to help settle him, leaving us kids home for the week during our October break. Maddox had taken the news the hardest. He and Uncle Kunaal bonded over soccer, and Maddox hadn't left his room since hearing the news except to see Wylder.

"That's good," I said quietly, trying to refocus on making my sandwich. The thought of Uncle Kunaal going through what Grandma had was too much, so I pushed it out of my mind.

"Yeah," Ozias said, pouring too much sugar into the Kool-Aid pitcher. He stirred it with a wooden spoon. I knew he wouldn't wash afterward.

"You and Beo seem to be doing well," I remarked, trying to focus on anything else.

"Yeah, I'm still figuring things out, but we're enjoying each other," he replied. I had to admit, Ozias was proving me wrong. He hadn't messed things up with Beo, and while they weren't entirely out, they were taking baby steps. Despite the rumors, Ozias still walked Beo to class, sat with him at lunch, and treated him well.