The Trouble with Loving a Milkovich Part 4

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Shattering glass wakes me up. Panicked and confused, I feel around the bed for Collin. His still sleeping form is right next to me, and once I make skin on skin contact, my heart beat slows back down. Outside the room, I hear Svetlana asking whoever's in the bathroom of they're alright. Mickey's voice echoes thru the hall. Getting up, I head to the door and stick my head out of the door. Mickey sulks past, his bloody fist up at to his eyes. Pulling a shard from knuckles, he feels me staring and looks at me. "I fell," he states. Nodding, I look down at his fist then up at him again. A sorrow fills him, one that he tries to hide but can't. Saying nothing, I fight the urge to reach out and touch his arm. Instead, I sleepily tell him to be careful, then close the door and crawl back into bed next to my husband.

I'm counting out bills at the table from the drug deals still conducted at my liquor store. Kenyatta crosses into the kitchen and looks at the wad of money in my hand and the piles on the table. "Yo, wheres this liquor store if yours located?" Refusing to look up from the money, I tell him. He pauses, takes a deep breathe, then tells me, "You know that's our territory, right?" Still refusing to look up from the money, I ask him in the most uninterested tone I can muster, "Who's?" Kenyatta steps over to the table. "Names dont matter," his hand lands on the pile of money in front of me. Looking up at him, I lean back in my seat and place my hand on the pistol in my waistband. Collin is sitting in the living room, watching the entire scene; he hasn't budged because he knows I've got it. Terry is watching from just outside the doorway and I hear one of the bedroom doors open; Mandy must be listening from inside her room. Unfazed, I stare him dead in the face. "I don't know who the fuck your plug is, and I dont need to. Wanna know why, Kenny?" He mean mugs me but doesnt answer. "MY plug is your plug's plug. MY source is the mother fucking tippy top. You're the bitches bitch, so before you come at me..." I pause letting the words sink in. "Know your shit." I finish. Kenyatta snorts at me. "Ain't no way a fucking Milkovich is in the family." Grinning, I get back to the money in my hand. "I was a Ricci before I was a Milkovich." Our of the corner of my eye, I see his face drop. The atmosphere in the room changes. A palpable fear resonates off the walls. Unwilling to show weakness, Kenyatta shakes his head and says, "You may got ties, girl, but you ain't shit 'cept a scared little girl." At this, I let out an audible laugh. "We're all fucking scared, Kenny," lowering the cash, I look him dead in the face. "Its what we do with that fear that matters.." Kenyatta lets out snort. "We all know what you do with that fear." His head juts to the crooks of my arms. "Shit hella faded, but it ain't disappear." He shakes his head, walking back into the kitchen. Anger courses thru my veins and I hear shuffling from the living room. "Gotta few runs to do," Kenyatta tells us, pulling on his winter jacket and leaving out the back door. "Fuck that nigger," Terry speaks up, lit cigarette hanging from his lip. Tossing an old rubber band at him, I ask,"where was that sentiment this entire conversation?" Silence falls again as the backdoor opens and Kenyatta enters the room again. "Yo, you said Ricci?" He asks, pointing at me. Nodding, I raise an eyebrow. "You related to Terri Ricci?" he continues. My stomach clenches and a cold wave of anxiety hits me. Cautiously, I nod my head. "That's my mother," I inform him. His eyebrows shoot up his face. "That's yo MOMS?" I nod at him, steeling my face so that it becomes expressionless. "Ah, shit girl," he shakes his head and holds back a laugh. "Somebody gotta put yo moms in check. I dont know what you did to piss her off, but she came to my crew for a favor..." he lingers, cracks a grin, and heads off out the back door again. Shocked, I'm unable to move. Movement comes from behind me and the warmth of Collin's hand emanates from the spot on my shoulder he touches. Terry looks over at us, grunting, "What the fuck does that mean?" Tightening his grip on my shoulder, Collin says, "It means that we finally found out who put that hit on this place."