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Adonis and I still continued to see each other any chance we got. This meant that I spent a lot of time in Virginia Beach, so that Adonis never had to lie-other than by omission. He would announce that he was going out to run some errands, then swing by to pick me up at a hotel and I'd run the errands with him. We went out in his car, which even now makes me shudder, because it would have been so easy to run into someone he knew. Virginia Beach isn't that big a place, and Adonis's reputation as a singer was spreading fast.
"I don't give a fuck if somebody sees us," Adonis would say, taking my hand or putting his arms around me even in public, while I was always warily watching over one shoulder.
Then, one morning, he realized just how much of a risk we were taking. I was staying in one of the hotels on the opposite side of the harbor bridge from downtown Virginia Beach, where I always felt like we were safer, because a big body of water lay between the Quiñones family and me. Adonis drove over to come get me, as he usually did.
When we were ready to leave the hotel room, Adonis went out first, acting as cool and at ease about the whole situation as ever. He was the sort of person who always loved taking risks. I spent a few extra minutes packing my purse, tucking away my sunglasses, wallet, and checkbook.
Suddenly Adonis bolted back into the room and slammed the door behind him. "Shit." he groaned. "I forgot my aunt works here. She probably just saw me coming out the room." He said, disappointment laced in his voice as he smacked his head.
"What aunt?" I asked, panicked.
"She's married to my dad's brother. You know how fucked we'd be if she saw us?"
I had to laugh. "Look at you," I teased. "Mr. 'I don't give a fuck, I'm that nigga.'"
"Shut up." Adonis snapped, sucking his teeth. "For real, Selena. If my aunt sees us, I don't know what kinda shit is gonna pop off."
We waited a while, then snuck out of that hotel Mission: Impossible style. "Guess I should cross this place off my list," I snickered sarcastically, once we were safely on the road.
"Yeah, how 'bout you do that." Adonis said with an attitude, never taking his eyes off the road.
Sometimes Adonis and I saw each other when I came to Virginia Beach to work on songs with Angelo too. I really enjoyed working with Adonis's brother. He and I had a few run-ins now and then, but he always gave me a lot of freedom as a guitarist and really encouraged me to develop my own musical style. Maybe we hit it off because he was a talker and I was a listener, and he always had a strong opinion whereas I was pretty easygoing. Who knows? In any case, we developed a strong friendship.
Like me, Angelo had once wanted to be a rock musician, not Reggae. His rock career had come to a screeching halt because Abraham had insisted on forming a family band to play Reggae music. Angelo had no choice but to play songs other people had written that he didn't like. Finally, he began to write his own songs and record them-eventually winning awards for his songwriting.
Adonis found every way he could to tease Angelo, especially when he and I were trying to work on some music. He'd come over to Angelo's house, put his arms around me from behind while I was playing guitar, and give me a hug and a kiss.
"Come on, man," Angelo would say. "Right in front of me? Really?"
"Hell, yeah, nigga! The fuck are you gonna do about it?" Adonis bucked at his brother.
At that point Angelo would always shake his head and turn away, knowing not to engage with his little brother because that's all he ever wanted: attention. And he was determined to get it in any way possible.
