Hitta's Tea Maker

by Edwina Fort

  Maybe I’ll call Rome tomorrow and see if he’d ever heard of some sh*t like that happening to somebody else. Or maybe I won’t…

  Now that he was supposed to be dead, I had to be careful about contacting him. Of course, the little bastard was a f***ing genius and had set up a special line for me to use when I needed to get in touch with him that could not be traced.

  But I still tried to use it only in an emergency. I’d had to stop myself from using it the other day when Angel’s crack head a** brother fell for my bait and took the ten grand I left in the drawer in my office.

  I knew from watching the cameras that when he cleaned in there, he sometimes peeped in my drawers…My sources told me the owner of the building where Angel’s Tea Shop is, had started the eviction process for her because she hadn’t been paid in two months going on three.

  The rest was a breeze…she and her brother just fell into my hands after that. Yeah…Rome is a f***ing genius. I had been playing this cat-and-mouse game with Angel for a long time.

  The thing is…she’s too f***ing good for me, I knew that. She’s clean where I am filthy. She has a good heart and soul. Rome sent me a file on her…the file was full of sh*t she did for other people.

  She’d paid for her brother to go to rehab eleven times. She was paying the tuition for his child to go to a decent school. She sometimes paid the bills at his child’s mother’s place. She collected money for eight different charities at her Tea Shop. Twice a year she did a fundraiser for the soup kitchen around the corner from her shop. Three times a year she set up a bin inside of her shop and did a food drive where she asked folks to bring in canned goods for the soup kitchen. In the fall, she held a coat drive to give coats to needy children so they could be protected from the Chicago winter…

  Keep in mind she’s only twenty-one.

  Hell yeah, she’s too good for me. I’m a mean, selfish mutha f****. I take care of my own, everybody else can eat a d***. You cross me and I eliminate yo’ a**. I don’t give a f*** who you are, mama, daddy, sista, mutha f***en brotha…You cross me and I’m going to murk yo’ a**…period. I don’t play with mutha f****s. I got one friend and he lives all the way in f***ing Canada. I don’t allow myself to get close to anybody else.

  Now, I know what y’all saying, damn, Hitta, you f***ed up. And the thing is, I know it. I know that I’m f***ed up in the head. It’s like I told Angel earlier, I’m a product of my environment. I had to be this way.

  When I was a kid, my mom was a piece of sh*t junkie who would smoke the toilet if she could. There was never food in the house for me and my three younger siblings…if not for Rome’s mom, who used to let me come and eat at their place and bring food back for my two little sisters and brother, we would have starved.

  We never kept a crib. My mom lived with one John after another. The first mutha f***a I knocked out was a nigga who decided he wanted me instead of her. She didn't fight for me or try and stop him… I was eight years old and she brought me to him, said he and I were going to play a little game. He took off his clothes and I started crying for her, but she didn't answer me, she was in the next room smoking a rock while my siblings crawled on the nasty a** floor.

  I knew that if I was going to make it out of there, I was going to have to make it happen myself. That mutha f***a went in to touch my d*** and I balled up my fist and swung with everything I had in me and laid that b**** out.

  When he came to, he kicked us out. She was so mad that we had to go back to the shelter, she beat the sh*t out of me. My uncle G came and got me after he heard what happened and let me move in with him and Saw…

  Sh*t, their place wasn’t that much better, but at least I had a roof over my head. A month later, the state came and got my siblings. I begged G to take them, but he refused, said he didn’t have time to deal with no babies. Two years later, my mom stole a lot of money from him…I guess she thought because he was her brother, he wasn’t going to do sh*t to her.

  He put a bullet in her head and we buried her a** few days later. That’s my world…It’s a cold and loveless cesspool of bottom feeders all struggling for their next breath. To survive that, you have to be mean and heartless.

  Angel would never survive in my world. And yet, I couldn’t stay away from her…I tried. Her light drew me like a moth. She was so innocent. Listening to her talk tonight was like a breath of fresh air. She talked about life and light…loving things and healing.

  I realize that I’d grabbed a hold of her because I needed her to pull me out of the darkness. I’d always thought I was fine where I was…

  But just maybe the reason I was so obsessed with her was because I was tired of living in this darkness…

  “No!” she suddenly cried out, jerking violently in my arms…

  I tightened my hold on her…She was having a nightmare.

  “Please, somebody help me!” She was pushing against me trying to break away from my hold.

  “Shhh…baby. I’m here, Shhh…”

  She wrapped her arms around my neck tightly, clinging to me as if her life depended on it. I held her just as tightly.

  “Hitta…don’t let me fall!”

  “It’s okay, Teacup, I’ve got you…I’ll never let you fall, baby. Not ever!”

  She exhaled and settled back down into a calm sleep. I wondered what she was dreaming about that frightened her so. There was no demon I wouldn’t slay to protect her. If I even thought something or someone was trying to hurt her, their a** was fried…period!

  That was my last thought before sleep claimed me. I slept with no pain because Angel’s sweet scent filled my senses even in my dreams. At some point right before dawn, I got up to use the bathroom. When I came back out, she was sleeping peacefully on the pillows. I didn’t want to disturb her, so I settled down on my stomach next to her.

  What happened next pleasantly surprised me. She turned over and climbed on my back as if I was a log, then she buried her head in the spot between my neck and shoulder before resuming her gentle snoring.

  Damn! That sh*t was so f***ing cute…not only did my baby do that adorable snorting when she laughed, she was a f***ing wild sleeper. Imagine that.

  I drifted back to sleep with a smile on my face…

  Chapter 6

  Getting a Taste of Him…

  Angel

  Okay, so…

  The next morning, I got a taste of what it was going to be like living with Mr. Hard Hitta for the next six months.

  And I do mean a taste…

  After waking up extremely embarrassed because at some point in the night, I climbed on top of the man’s back and fell asleep, only to be awakened by him doing pushups.

  “Wake-up, Teacup.”

  His deep voice penetrated my dream that was surprisingly quite pleasant, so of course, instead of waking up fully, I wrapped my arms and legs around him, snuggling closer. The up and down motion was only lulling me back to sleep. It had been so long since I’d slept undisturbed and had a pleasant dream, I just wasn’t ready to get up.

  His deep chuckle rumbled through me… “Wake-up, baby.”

  I cracked an eye and frowned as the room dipped down, then back up.

  My eyes flew open. “What the—” I cried when I realized I was on the man’s back. “Eeekk!” I was falling.

  Pushing himself and me up with one hand, he reached back with the other one and caught me before I hit the floor. I quickly wrapped my arms and legs back around him, clinging to him like a monkey.

  “What’s going on?!”

  “You’re helping me get my morning workout,” he said calmly, like him doing pushups with me sleeping on his back was something he did every day.

  “How did I get up here?” The man was so big, it felt like I was on the back of a horse or something.

  He chuckled again. “You climbed on in your sleep.”

  My forehead hit his back. Oh my goodness… He must think I’m a kook…clinging to him like Curious freaking George.

  I sat
up so that I was straddling him. Would you guys believe I was so short that my feet did not touch the ground? I had to clutch his shirt to keep from falling again as he continued his pushups.

  “Are you going to let me down?” I asked, secretly enjoying the ride.

  “I’m almost finished with my last set.”

  If I was light-skinned, I would be bright red right now. “How many sets have you done?”

  “Four,” he grunted as he dipped down and then back up.

  Wow! I couldn’t believe I’d actually slept through that. He had to call me to wake me up. Goodness…I couldn’t remember the last time I got longer than two hours of sleep. And I think I know why that happened.

  Hitta was in my dream last night. Somehow, him holding me through the night had made me feel safe, which would explain why I ended up crawling on his back. I remember at some point feeling alone in my dream. I was very afraid, fearing that he had abandoned me. Then I remembered feeling his heat next to me and reaching out for it. Once I found it, I felt relief and relaxed back into a deep sleep.

  And amazingly for the first time in a long time, I woke up feeling refreshed. With my legs still wrapped tightly around his waist so that I didn’t fall off, I lifted my hands over my head and stretched. As I did, I noticed how stunning the bedroom looked with the sunlight shining in so bright and— I stiffened.

  Sunlight!

  “What time is it?” I asked although I knew whatever answer he gave was going to be the wrong one. I got to the shop every morning at six…my pastry boy was making his delivery by six-thirty.

  “Ten forty-five.”

  “Shoot!” I cried scrambling off his back. “I’m late for work!” He turned over and tried to grab me, but I danced from his fingers.

  “What’s the rush?”

  I chuckled… “I’m going to have a lot of folks angry at me because they couldn’t start their day with their morning cup of tea.”

  He smoothly came to his feet displaying his strength. “What’s the big deal about tea anyway? It’s not like it’s coffee.”

  I came to a halt and whipped around to glare at him. He couldn’t have slapped me and insulted me more.

  “How dare you insult tea that way?” I put my hand on my hip. “I’ll have you know most people prefer tea to coffee three to one.” Of course, I was totally making that up.

  He stood with a little grin on his face that really showed just how cute his dimples were in the morning before he tilted his head to the side.

  “Are you making that sh*t up, Teacup?”

  I lifted my head…this man’s ability to read me was frightening. “No, I’m not making it up. It’s been scientifically proven.” Sooooo making that up.

  “Scientifically proven you say?” He had a look on his face that said he wasn’t buying it.

  I nodded. “Scientifically proven.”

  Chuckling, he headed into the bathroom. “Well, I guess if the scientists say it…it must be true.”

  His statement caused me to giggle as I continued to my boxes that had been labeled bedroom and stacked neatly in the corner. From here I could see him in the bathroom mirror taking care of his morning rituals.

  I couldn’t believe I’d slept till ten forty-five. How in the world? I have never slept that long. Because of my nightmares, I’m always awake by three am. Although most times, I’m exhausted from not getting nearly enough sleep. I generally have time to get my mind ready for the day, do some reading, soak in a nice bath, enjoy a nice cup of chamomile tea. And if I’m in the mood, a bowl of buttery chamomile oatmeal with a drizzle of honey on top.

  Needless to say, I wasn't used to running late in the morning. I will need to contact Kelly from the bakery and ask if she could send my boxes of pastries over for my lunch crowd. Then I will have to call Jessie's house and make sure her mom feed her breakfast and toke her to school. And then—

  Oh my God! He was stripping…

  I looked away, blushing so hard the roots of my hair follicles were tingling. But then as if it had a will of its own, my head turned just a little bit so that I could take another peek… Just a quick one, I promise.

  He wasn’t paying attention to me and I didn’t even know if he knew I could see him. Why isn’t he closing the door?!

  He stood in only his boxer briefs now, adjusting the water temperature of the shower. I felt like a Peeping Tom watching him. But I couldn’t look away… my goodness! The man’s body was gorgeous. He could easily be a model or something.

  Now that his shirt was gone, I was able to see the tattoo that went across his chest better. What I had initially thought were two separate tattoos, one that was on his right peck that went up to the side of his neck and one that was on his left bicep, was really one tattoo that stretched from his bicep across his massive chest to end along the right side of his neck.

  It was amazing! Although I still couldn’t read the script, the picture was startlingly clear…and a bit frightening. It was a picture of a fierce lion ripping the heart out of a man with his sharp teeth. Whoever had done the work was a remarkable artist. Somehow, they’d managed to capture Hitta’s personality perfectly in that picture. Now, I was very curious as to what the script said.

  When he got the temperature to his liking he stepped back and his hands went to the waist of his boxers. I told myself to look away. I shouldn’t be spying on him…I really should look away!

  Yet…

  My face heated to the boiling point as time slowed down. The more skin he revealed the more my eyes widened. By the time his drawers hit the ground, my mouth was hanging open in astonishment.

  He was hu—

  Right before he stepped in the shower, his sexy gaze came to mine and my thoughts instantly froze. He wore a little devious grin, letting me know that he had been aware that I was watching him and if that didn’t confirm it, the little wink he gave me before stepping into the shower surely did. I collapsed back on the floor with my hands over my face in a heap of embarrassment.

  Determined to be out of this room before he got out of the shower, I dug into the box with my clothes in it and began to pull out the first thing I laid my hands on which was my black baggy jumper…but something made me pause on that. He thought I dressed like a homeless person. That bothered me… I didn’t want him to look at me like a hobo.

  I wanted him to look at me and feel the way I just felt looking at him getting into that shower. I wanted him to think I was desirable. With my mind made up I stood, leaving the box I’d packed all the stuff from the front of my closet in. Those were the things that I wore every day.

  Instead, I went to the box that I’d packed all the stuff from the back of my closet in. I really did have pretty things, it’s just that my life is one big ball of stress and I’m the kind of person who dressed for the day, how I feel when I wake up.

  Although beautiful things caught my eye, depression and grief kept me from reaching for them in my closet. But today… after waking up feeling refreshed for the first time in like…forever, I think I was ready to explore new possibilities.

  My search didn’t last long before I came across a burgundy Boho patch maxi dress that I fell in love with the first time I laid eyes on it. The dress was very expensive, but I had to have it…Very rarely do I get a chance to splurge on myself, this dress had been one of those times.

  Although it was a maxi dress, it was only long in the back, the front of the dress came all the way up to center thigh. To go with this masterpiece, I’d splurged on a pair of burgundy suede thigh-length high-heeled boots with metal tips, another very expensive purchase…

  However, I had the feeling that after today, the money I’d spent on this ensemble will have been well worth it. Quickly I gathered the other things I was going to need to pull myself together and headed to the bathroom at the end of the hall.

  It had been so long since I’d actually taken the time to fix myself up, I wondered if I still knew what to do. It’s amazing Hitta had taken a fancy to me at all. T
he fact that he had made me wonder what was it that he saw in me. What made him look past the fact that my brother and I had just stolen a lot of money from him?

  He’d settled for me being his girlfriend for the next six months. He’d put me in this beautiful house, given me his credit card to furnish it however I saw fit, and wasn’t even forcing me to have sex with him…

  And just on a side note…that in itself was doing something to me. He’s a brute, uncouth, and a goon…I expected him to be like Stan or even worse. I’d slept like a baby in his arms last night. Not once did I have to shove his hand away from being someplace it didn't belong.

  In fact, I’d awakened to find that I was clinging to him in my sleep. It felt like he was playing hard to get, even though I knew he wasn’t. And that just…I don’t know, made me want to see what it would be like if he did touch me that way.

  I had a strong feeling that his touch will not cause pain like Stan’s. But first…

  I wanted to show him how beautiful I was capable of being. I’d gotten used to downplaying myself, but not today…

  Today, I wanted him to know who it was he’d made so many sacrifices for. Today, I was burying the girl Stan had terrified…and embracing the woman Hard Hitta the Brute through a few unselfish acts, had liberated.

  Because it had been such a long time, I had to lay all of my supplies out on the sink in front of me and after brushing my teeth and taking my shower, I got started.

  First, I moisturized my skin really well with a body butter that I’d made from passion fruit tea, then I slid into the burgundy panty and bra set that I’d bought the day I’d gotten this dress. The top of the dress had a deep V cut that would show my bra just a bit…so I thought, why not get a pretty lace bralette that would kind of give the appearance of having on a cami underneath? And of course, I had to get the matching panties since I was splurging on the bra anyway.

  Once done, I slid on a pair of thigh-high burgundy stockings, that was topped with lace. I had a thing for thigh-high stockings…they made me feel sexy. Then, I put the loose-fitting dress over my head… I loved this style of dress because it went with my body type flawlessly. The dress itself was wool and the long sleeves were perfect for the Chicago winter.