Daddy's Home (Firebacks Book 1)

by Linda Verji

  “Halake, I didn’t know you were home.” Nadifa walked up to Lucky and embraced him. It was obvious Lucky was surprised to see Sonia in their kitchen too since he didn’t respond to Nadifa’s greeting or hug. He shot Zain a nervous look instead.

  On her end, Nadifa gushed on acting as if she couldn’t feel the tension in the room, “I just thought we could invite Sonia in for dinner. You know how lonely that pool house can be.”

  Zain didn’t say a word because only the Lord knew the rash shit she’d have spit out in front of her children. On her part, Sonia stuck close to Nadifa and kept her gaze deliberately away from Zain. Smart girl! As if they were all just a normal family about to have dinner, Nadifa sat down at the table, tagging Sonia into the seat beside hers. The nerve! The nerve!

  “Baby, just calm down,” Lucky whispered to Zain as she transferred the vegetables, rice, and chicken stew from their respective pots and into serving bowls. Screw you! Zain pushed past him with two of the bowls and headed for the table.

  “Ma, that’s too much,” Maari whined when she served him. Zain would normally insist he eat his vegetables, but said nothing. She only smiled at him and moved on to serve Iris. Maari’s eyes widened and he held up his plate for more vegetables. Zain reached for the bowl of rice on the table but Nadifa snatched it from her hand. For a moment, Zain stood staring at her.

  Strike two and a half!

  Her first instinct – snatch the bitch – but the bitch was what fifty-five? Sixty?

  Zain took a deep breath and waited for Nadifa to serve herself and Sonia before reaching for the bowl again and doling out generous portions to the kids. Nadifa dipped a serving spoon into the chicken stew, lifted a piece of the poultry and tasted it. She immediately spit it into the napkin beside her plate.

  “Are you trying to kill us?” Nadifa complained. “This is way too much salt for a pregnant woman.”

  Strike two and three quarters!

  Zain’s first instinct – snatch the bitch - but the bitch had arthritis and an unconfirmed case of gout among many other illnesses in her raggedy assed, bony body.

  Instead of slapping the weave off Nadifa’s head like she longed to, Zain picked up both intruders’ plates. Ignoring Lucky’s ‘What are you doing’, she dumped the plates into the dustbin beneath the sink – food and all – before she left the kitchen.

  What she needed was a good soap opera with hunky, bare-chested men to calm her down. So that’s just what she did; Zain walked into the den and settled in front of the TV, but even there, they still wouldn’t leave her alone. Lucky came into the room and sat beside her.

  “I’m sorry about all that,” Lucky said, his worried eyes locked on her. “I’ll talk to her once they’re done eating.”

  She flicked on the remote control, flipping through the channels as Lucky’s words went through one ear and out the other. If he wanted to deal with his mother, he would’ve done it by now. They were all full of crap: him, his mother, and his whore.

  Lucky stood. “Let me make sure the kids are settled for the night. We can talk then, okay?”

  Zain didn’t bother to turn and watch him leave. A couple of minutes into some Indian flick she was pretending to watch, Nadifa and Sonia entered the room.

  “This is our den.” Nadifa gestured like she was a tour guide.

  “Dang!” Sonia exclaimed. “It’s really big.”

  This was the first time her voice was making an appearance in Zain’s presence. Hmm! She’s getting brave. She’d picked the wrong day. Zain watched the two women, eyes narrowed into thin slits, as they made their way to the entertainment room and back around to the den.

  “I wonder what’s on the news today?” Nadifa picked the remote control from Zain’s table, pointed it at Zain’s TV, and switched the channel from Zain’s Indian movie to her news.

  Zain blood began to boil, her ears rung, and her heart pumped faster with every passing second. Zain stood up.

  This was it! Strike three!

  In case of doubt, always go for the weave first. Zain did just that. She closed her fist around Nadifa’s brunette mass of silky curls and swung her to the floor.

  CHAPTER 11

  Nadifa went sprawling to the carpeted floor from the force of Zain’s throw. The world ground to a halt in Zain’s mind as she watched the old woman land on her side, legs up in the air. She would’ve laughed when the skirt of Nadifa’s long dress rose to reveal BMUs (Black Mother’s Union knickers), but she was busy tying her hair up into a bun.

  Nadifa had poked the bear one time too hard and it was out of its lair. She stared up at Zain; in her wide eyes shone a mixture of pure shock and fear. Her gaze swung briefly to the side, but Sonia wasn’t there to help her.

  “Stand up,” Zain said coldly. Her fingers curled into a tight fist as she readied herself to pop Nadifa in the mouth the moment she got to her feet. Nadifa was about to start putting her fists where her mouth was. If you can talk smack, you’d better be able to take a smacking too.

  That’s when the screaming began.

  “Halake! Halake! Halake!” Nadifa bellowed, scrambling further away from Zain.

  “Stand up,” Zain insisted as she stalked a wailing, crawling Nadifa around the coffee table. “Stand up!”

  “Halake! Halake!” Nadifa scrambled to her feet. Instead of going for the younger woman, she ran out of the den. Zain followed hot on her heels, chasing her up the stairs.

  She hadn’t counted on Nadifa being able to outrun her – and that woman could sprint. It was like chasing Usain Bolt on speed. She tried to grab Nadifa’s dress but caught air instead and fell hard on the carpeted stairs, giving Nadifa even more of a head start. By the time she got to the landing, Nadifa was flying towards the kids’ rooms screaming, “Halake! Halake!”

  Lucky wore a puzzled expression as he came out of the twins’ room. The moment he saw the two women, confusion morphed into alarm. Nadifa darted behind him, clutching at his grey t-shirt. “Ai, she’s gone mad!”

  “Move!” Zain tried to shove her way past Lucky, her fist already up and ready to punch Nadifa.

  “Baby, calm—” The fist that was meant for Nadifa landed in Lucky’s face. It was a nice right hook that snapped his head back. Her hand hurt because he had a jaw of rock, but it was satisfying to feel her fist meet some human flesh. Lucky started, “What the fu—”

  While he was still running his mouth, she grabbed his t-shirt and shoved him out the way. There was the ripping sound of fabric shredding, but it was masked by Nadifa’s shouts, “Keep her away from me Halake! Halake! Halake!”

  Lucky hauled Zain over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, his hands a tight band across the back of her knees. She continued to assault his back, trying to get him to put her down so she could get to that wailing banshee but Lucky ignored her.

  “I said it! I said it! I said this girl was going to kill me!” Nadifa’s wails followed them as Lucky carried Zain to their room. He shut the door behind them.

  * * *

  Lucky’s jaw still throbbed from Zain’s punch. He should’ve never let her enroll in that self-defense class. She’d ripped his good deep neck too. She was still throwing her fists into his back as he carted her further into the room and threw her on the bed.

  She immediately scrambled off the bed and to the floor. Lucky was amused when she took a fighter’s stance: fists up, and right foot forward. Was she serious? She thought she could take a wide receiver with that little body of hers? Her intent gaze and full mouth straightened into a thin line letting him know that she was dead serious.

  Lucky laughed.

  But a second later went cross-eyes when her right fist connected with his face, right under his left eye and jaw. When asked later, Lucky swore he saw all the planets, including Pluto, align and laugh at him as the pain shot through his face and to his neck. He staggered a step back, the momentary break barely giving him a moment to get himself together.

  The next time her fist shot out towards the side of hi
s face he was ready for her. He blocked her punch with his palm before she could connect and then twisted her arm until he had her wrist behind her back. She swung the other hand too but Lucky forced it behind her too, holding both her wrists against her spine with one hand. Defeated, but refusing to accept it, Zain tried to head-butt him. Lucky moved his head out of the way.

  “Ow!” she whimpered when she ended up butting her forehead against the hard muscle of his shoulder instead.

  Worried that he’d hurt her, Lucky lifted her chin to check the injury. He should’ve known it was a ploy because her knee shot up between his legs in the next moment. His fast reflexes prevented her from getting to the family jewels and she caught him in the inner thigh instead, but the sharp jab still hurt like a bitch. Lucky pushed her against the wall, using the weight of his body to subdue hers.

  “Get off me!” Zain growled against his upper chest. Lucky ignored her, resting his forehead on the wall behind her as he struggled to fight the pain she’d wrought.

  When the pain in his inner thighs finally subsided, he pulled back to stare at her, “Did you seriously try to fuck up my mother?”

  “I seriously tried to fuck up your mother.” Zain’s gaze was unapologetic and so was the roll of her neck as she added, “and I’m gonna finish it up the moment I deal with you.”

  “What is wrong with you?” Lucky asked, “My mother ain’t done shit to you.”

  In truth, he knew that his mother had been messing with Zain since day one and she’d gone just a step too far with the Sonia thing, but that was his mother. How could Zain try to beat her up? No one – no one – touched his mother because they had no idea where they’d come from, not even his wife.

  “Your mother is a bitch.”

  “Don’t call my mother a bitch.”

  “A hag, an interfering busy-body, a whinny-ass…” Zain’s words drifted off as he tightened his fingers around her wrists in warning. The hardness of her gaze refused to soften.

  “Is this because of Sonia?” He asked. It’d always come down to Sonia. He’d admitted it, apologized, and was trying to deal with the situation like a man. The subject was closed. Why did Zain keep getting angry about it? She’d even gotten to the point of attacking his mother. “Zain, I apologized. I’m not going to do it again.”

  “You have some balls,” she sneered. “Telling me about what you’re gonna and not gonna do when you’re the one who brought your mother and your whore into our house. Screw you!”

  Lucky only saw her full lips when she spoke. He knew how to deal with her, how to burn off her anger. She’d be putty in his hands and all he’d need to do was give her some. It’d worked once and he knew it’d work again.

  Zain read his plan through the predatory smile on his face because she jerked her body against his. Alarm flared in her expression and she spat, “Halake, don’t you dare!”

  Everyone knew Lucky couldn’t resist a dare. He dipped his head and pressed his lips forcefully against hers as she struggled in his arms. Zain pushed her fists against his upper torso and kept her lips sealed tightly, resisting his kiss. However, Lucky knew his woman. She’d bite and scratch one minute, but one stroke in and she’d tell him he was forgiven. He coerced her into opening up as he sucked and nibbled at her lips in the way he knew she liked it.

  “Hala—” Zain opened her mouth in protest. It was the opening he needed to dip his tongue into her warm mouth and explore her. She jerked against him, but he’d already struck the match. Within minutes the banked flame always between them reared up and lit a wildfire. Soon she was kissing him back; thrust for thrust, parry for parry.

  She was heated. If there was anywhere they were well matched, it was in bed. They may fight like cats and dogs and insult each other but once he had her turned on, they were both done with the fighting and ready to get into the loving.

  Lucky allowed his grip to drop from her wrists. The hand that had been punching him no less than a minute ago rose to his shoulder to stroke the nape of his neck. Her leg that’d been ready to take out his boys slid up to rest along his upper thigh. Moving her lips in sync with his, she pressed her breasts against his torso, their hard peaks evident in spite of the fabric of their damaged t-shirts. Aching for more, Lucky released her to pull his t-shirt over his head. He let it drop to the floor before letting their lips connect again.

  She whimpered when he dropped his hands to her ass and lifted her up. Zain wrapped both legs around his flanks and the couple moaned at the erotic contact of her scarcely covered pussy meeting his fully clothed cock. She clutched his shoulders, moving her hips in an attempt to seal herself to him. She was reacting exactly as Lucky had expected – forgetting the trouble between them and letting her body guide her heart.

  Eager to get her jeans off, he untangled her legs from around his waist and let them drop for just a second to unbutton, unzip, and whip them off her. Once she was wrapped around him again, he couldn’t stop the small groan of pleasure that drifted from his mouth. Her plump ass fit perfectly in his hands and her moans sounded like heaven in his ear as she made small figure eight motions in her purple bikini panties over his clothed dick.

  It was hard to think straight knowing that the only things that kept him from her heat were his khaki pants and navy blue, knit boxers. He dropped them to stand naked with her still wrapped around him. She ground harder against him, their tongues tangling faster in an effort to match her rhythm. Zain tried to back off as he tore apart the sides of her panties, but Lucky kept her sealed to him with a firm hand planted on her ass.

  “Uh uh! No running!” he growled against her lips as he began to push in. They groaned as he thrust in her inch by precious inch.

  She was tight as a glove. Her walls closed around him like a fist – squeezing and caressing him. It was too much. Lucky needed a seat. He backed off the wall to sit on the bed with Zain in his lap. His hands behind him, he clutched the soft comforter and let her control his entry into her heat. The only contact between them was the hands she had on his shoulders and the half of his rod already inside her. They watched as she slowly fit the rest of him into her. By the time his dick bottomed into her pussy, Lucky was ready to take control but held back.

  “Shit!” he groaned as she began to ride him. Zain moved on him; up, down, forward, around, up, down, back. Lucky was ready to tear up her pussy as he felt her tight walls tease him. Instead, he tore her t-shirt from neck to tummy and revealed her breasts that sat encased in a purple bra.

  He unclipped it, letting it fall between them as he cupped a heavy mound. He stroked, molded, and dipped his head to taste her sweet flesh as she rode him. She was soon convulsing around him; unwittingly informing him that he could finally let go. With a groan, they came together.

  Minutes later, the couple lay in bed as her head rested in the crook of his neck and Zain inhaled deeply. Lucky ran a finger across her shoulder, “You ready to apologize?”

  Zain lifted her head and stared at him. “Excuse me?”

  “You ready to apologize to my mom now?” Lucky clarified.

  Zain didn’t answer. She got off him instead and went into the bathroom without another word. She slammed the door behind her.

  What the hell? Hadn’t they just resolved the issue?

  “Zain!” Lucky pounded hard against the door, irritated that she continued to act like a drama queen. What was so bad about asking her to apologize to his mother? He yelled, “Zain open up!”

  Not a squeak came from the other side of the door. He turned the doorknob, rattled it, even hit the hard wood of the door with his shoulder and only came up with more pain. Fuck that! He was weary of playing the villain to her little soap opera, tired of always being the one to apologize and make peace while all she did was trip over the smallest things.

  “If you’re gonna act like a bitch you can fucking sleep alone tonight.” He pulled on his pants and grabbed a pillow from the bed.

  He stormed out of the bedroom with those words.

 
* * *

  Zain sat on the toilet seat as tears ran down her face and Lucky pounded on the door. You ready to apologize now? Was this what they’d come to? Her apologizing? Lucky knew damn well that his mother was in the wrong, but expected her to pay the price with a contrite expression and a sorry. He’d been the one to sleep with Sonia, but Zain was the one who was expected to take the woman into her home.

  This is what they’d come to.

  He fucked her and she shut up. The sum total of their marriage!

  She’d let him control her with sex, thinking it was love. It wasn’t. People who love each other don’t do this. They didn’t and wouldn’t set up the ones they loved to be humiliated like Lucky was doing to her. Zain would do anything for him. Actually, she’d done everything for him and he’d resorted to calling her a bitch.

  She sat on the toilet seat for the longest time, trying to make heads or tails of her situation. Was he treating her like this because – like his mother – he thought that she was bringing nothing to this marriage? Because she had no income, no children? He’d brought her so low that she was willing to attack an elderly woman to defend herself.

  This was enough! This was the last straw!

  Her parents had brought her up better. This wasn’t her – couldn’t be her because she deserved better.

  She was done.

  Zain cleaned herself up and then went back into the room and dressed up. She picked up her phone.

  “Kensington Cabs, how may I help you?” The melodic male voice on the other end of the line asked.

  “I’d like a cab sent to…” Zain gave him the directions and asked him to wait for her outside the gates. She pulled a carpetbag from the top of the closet, the same one that’d held most of her clothes when she’d moved to New York to join him.

  She rummaged through the closet, looking for the stuff she’d come into this marriage with. There was nothing! Lucky and the things he’d given her had eclipsed everything. Zain took the empty bag and put only her wallet and phone inside it.