S1Ep2: F You, Lexus

Lexus “L” Adams

Onyx Taylor has always been forbidden fruit.

My best bro Black’s little sister. 

The first thing he told me when I moved in with my pops, was that she was off limits. And I always obliged him.

Even after that one day she woke up and decided to be the finest woman I’d ever seen.

Even when her eyes the color of coal begged me to say that the rumors floating around the block were unfounded, and she wasn’t alone in her feelings.

I locked all my shit up, threw away the key, and held Black down. Never betrayed his trust. He made it easy, being the most solid nigga I know.

She made it easier, moving away and staying away.

Like everyone else with a social media account, I seen her relationship with that uppity nigga blow up in her face. My mind just didn’t connect the dots on her coming back here.

Back to this room.

Back in my life.

Baby Girl is all woman now. Her college sweatshirt stretches over titties that I know are soft as hell. Thick thighs clench together as she takes me in like I do her. My dick wakes up, and when I adjust myself, her eyes track it.

This was a bad idea. Fucked up as hell. I got a key to their crib, so why didn’t I just come through the front? Announce myself? Why did I climb through the window like I’m on some sneak shit. 

I wish I could lie and say I ain’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I know exactly what I’m doing at all times. It’s just common sense that goes out the window when it comes to Onyx Marie Taylor.

“Lexus,” she says, and my smile is automatic. She knows I hate my fuckin’ name, but that inner brat is coming out. Nice to see that shit’s still there.

“Waddup Onyx,” I reply, enunciating her name. We used to laugh about it; her having a masculine name, while I had a feminine one. I stayed beating niggas down until they got it in they heads to call me L only. I don’t even think my second baby mama knows what L stands for.

But of course Onyx Marie Taylor would bypass the unwritten rules. The rules ain’t apply to her, but she ain’t give a fuck anyway. Never did.

“Why are you here?” she asks, breaking me out of my head.

I lick my lips. “I should be asking you the same thing. Thought you was too good for Sutton Ave.”

She scoffs, just like I knew she would. Other people may very well think that shit, but never me.

I know the real.

“Nah, but foreal, you good?”

Her armor’s up, just like I taught her. Never to let a muthafucka see her sweat.

“Don’t pretend to care. It’s beneath you.”

My smirk drops from my face as I take a step toward her. “Why you say that? Of course I give a fuck.”

She takes a step back, her back touching the door. “I’m not doing this with you right now. Leave.”

I blink at her dismissal, watching her get more and more bothered, as I fight to keep a smile off my face.

Her attitude is cute, even though shit will get old quick. But I’ll still take that over ten years of silence.

“I’m only leaving ‘cause it’s late. Not ‘cause you said so.” I back away from her, back toward the window, watching hurt and disappointment and whatever else war in them eyes the color of coal. “Real shit, though, Onyx. A nigga missed you.”

She scoffs again. “Fuck you, Lexus.”

I chuckle, closing her into her old bedroom, and locking the bars on her windows back. The short trek to my side window isn’t enough time to wipe the smirk off my face, and when I climb through it, I’m greeted by two sets of curious eyes.

“Dad, why are you climbing through the window?” my son Amiri asks.

He’s on his full-sized bed with my daughter Ajá, or Butta. They’re ready for bed, and even though Butta has her own room, she’s always either with me or her big brother. 

“Yeah, Daddy. Why are you climbing through the window?” She tilts her head to the side, her glasses and bonnet sliding with it. She’s six, going on forty, and the second lady in my life that I’d let question me.

“I was checkin’ something outside. Fifteen more minutes on that iPad, then bed. You finished the dishes?”

Amiri nods before his gaze shifts behind me. “Who’s that lady at Uncle Black’s house?”

At ten, my boy is still one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. It’d been me and Black–and whoever we was fucking with–raising him since he was fresh out the pussy, but shit, my boy’s in the Honors program at his school. They’ve been tryna get him to skip a grade since he was in kindergarten. I should have known he’d peep.

“That’s his lil’ sister, Miss Onyx.”

Butta’s back on her iPad, trying to soak up as much screentime as she can, but Amiri’s eyes light up. There’s pictures of Onyx everywhere, in here and at Black’s crib. As Black’s pride and joy, I know he’s told him hella stories about the girl who hasn’t been around since before he was born.

“She moved back?”

My heart does some funny shit hearing the hope in his voice. Amiri’s my pride and joy. I still don’t know how his heart turned out so pure. How do I tell him that Onyx will probably never wanna have a relationship with him, ‘cause his daddy a dumbass? 

Or worse, and the more likely scenario; that she will love both my kids like her own, but cement my place as an outsider in her world?

“Yep. I think she’s back for good, my boy.”