Page 30 of Dima
“I talk to my mother almost every morning. After I turned eighteen, she tracked me down, and we’ve been building a relationship ever since. She’s the same sweet person I remember her as and nothing like my pops wanted me to believe. I don’ttalk to that nigga at all. If I seen him on the street today, I would walk right past him.”
“Dang, my father is not the best, but I would never cut him off for good. You don’t think there’s anything left in your relationship to salvage?”
“Nah, I don’t want nothing to do with him. Your father is a saint compared to mine.”
“Are you high? On what planet would Bishop Moore be a saint?”
“One where your father beat your mother every day of your childhood. My pops not only terrorized my mother, he terrorized me and everyone else around us. That nigga is really a menace behind closed doors.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Dima. Bishop is not the best, but he would never put his hands on me. Everyone tells me he worshipped my mother too.”
“You are blessed. Trust me. No matter what Bishop does in the streets, he would never let it touch you. Speaking of your pops, I think it might be time to tell him what’s up with us. I don’t want him to feel like we doing some shit behind his back.”
“If that’s what you want to do, but I hope you don’t think he’s going to approve. He has never approved of any man I’ve ever considered dating.”
“I’m not looking for his approval. I just want him to hear about it from me.”
“And what if he tries to have you killed?”
“Nah, I don’t think he will, but I’m a hard nigga to kill. I’ll be straight.”
“Dima, you’re joking, but I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Nothing is going to happen to me. I don’t like feeling like I’m sneaking around to be with you. I get what you’re saying, but I still want to tell him man to man.”
“Okay, but be careful.”
“I will.”
Dima leaned over the table to kiss my lips, and I kissed him back. We settled into a comfortable conversation as we ate our food. Everything was just as delicious as it looked, and I was now telling myself he really was a chef. I knew who would cook for us if we ever moved in together.
Dima’s phone rang, and it brought me right out of the bliss I felt. Just like last night, he ignored it before it rang again. This shit couldn’t be happening again. I knew Dima was a busy man, being a part of my father’s organization, but damn. This made me feel like carving out time for each other would be impossible.
“Let me take this. I’ll be right back.”
Everything in me told me to stay seated. To listen to the R&B melodies playing softly in the background while Dima took his call. I wanted to listen, but the rebel in me said get the fuck up. I had to know who called him this time and why it was so important for him to take the call and leave me sitting here alone.
If this was what I had to look forward to in a relationship with Dima, maybe telling my father wasn’t the best move. If I didn’t tell Bishop, this thing between us wasn’t real, and if it wasn’t real, whoever was on the phone was none of my business.
But I wanted it to be real.
I got up from my pillow and padded softly toward the room Dima had just walked into. I could hear him trying to speak quietly, but I was skilled at eavesdropping. I had worked on this shit my whole life since I always felt like my daddy hid something from me.
I put my ear to the door to get a better angle.
“Agent Fitz. This is the last time I’m going to tell you this. Don’t call my fucking phone again. I’m going to wrap this caseup on my own, and when I bring Bishop Moore in, I will do it by myself.”
I couldn’t believe what I heard. I knew something was different about Dima from the first moment I laid eyes on him, but I never imagined this. He was a fucking Fed. Not only was he a Fed, but he was sent here to build a case on my father and had used me to do it.
I didn’t even let myself fully process what I’d heard before I gathered my things. Dima was still deep into his phone call, so I only had a few minutes to get out of his apartment. I rushed out of the door and to my Jeep as fast as I could. How the fuck was I going to tell my father I had fallen in love with a federal agent?
“Are you on your way?”
Bishop’s voice boomed through the other end of my phone. I couldn’t believe he invited me to dinner. Maeve and I had talked about telling him what was going on between us, but that was before she left my crib without saying anything.
I blew her up for days, but she didn’t answer or call me back. I had pulled up to her school and everything and still couldn’t find her. I figured she was mad about me taking another call during our date, but now I thought she may have overheard me talking to Fitz.
How could I be so fucking careless?
