Chapter 19 #2
Heat flooded her face. She turned completely away from Spirit now, walking toward the hallway. She’d missed this — his voice cutting through whatever stress the day threw at her, the way sleep came easier wrapped up in him. Missed him, period. More than she knew how to say out loud.
“Rolani, I have company.”
“What that mean to me? You got me out here distracted as hell, thinking about how a nigga ain’t even gotta put it in to have you creaming. How good that pregnant pussy feels swallowing my dick. The sounds you make when I hit that spot.” He paused. “You miss me, Ken?”
“You know I do,” she whispered. “You clearly miss me.”
“More than you know. But aight. Go get my baby girl. I’ll call you tonight.” His voice shifted back to normal, like he hadn’t had her ready to combust in the middle of his living room. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
When she turned back around, Spirit was staring at her with the biggest smirk.
“You heading out, or you wanna ride with me? Monroe is fourteen, and she’s a good kid. She’s fun.”
“Yeah, I’ll go. I don’t have shit else to do.”
They loaded up in the Navigator—Rolani had left it for her while he was gone, and she’d fallen in love with the way it drove. Smooth, spacious, and steady, it made her feel safe. The drive to Monroe’s school was twenty minutes, and between the music and girl talk, they made it in no time.
Kennedi noticed Spirit shift in her seat about halfway there, but she ignored it. Then, as they got closer to the school, Spirit turned in her seat, her whole body tense.
“Ken, I need to tell you something.”
“Girl, what? I knew something was up.”
“It’s Robin.”
Kennedi glanced at her. “Huh? What’s Robin?”
“Ugh.” Spirit exhaled hard. “Robin is the man who broke my damn heart. I’ve... I’ve never been around his daughter.”
Kennedi’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Wow. Okay. You’re Lovelynn?”
Spirit’s head snapped toward her. “He been talking about me?”
“You my girl, so I’ll be honest—yes, somewhat. Robin knows you’re coming back home.” Kennedi paused, choosing her words carefully. “You do know he’s locked up, right?”
Spirit’s head whipped around, and she glared. “What?”
“Word is the bum-ass baby mama is behind it.” Kennedi caught the twitch in her friend’s eye and knew the full story had yet to be revealed. “Listen, I don’t know what the history is, but Monroe is innocent and will be treated as such.”
“Ken, what the hell? I would never—”
“Hey.” Kennedi’s voice went firm. “I have a duty to protect this little girl who is already going through enough. It ain’t personal.”
Spirit’s jaw tightened, but she nodded. “I get it. I do. But I’m not here to hurt her. I—” She stopped, shaking her head. “Never mind.”
They rounded the circle, and Kennedi pulled out her car rider tag, slipping it into the window. The bell rang, and kids poured out onto the lawn, backpacks bouncing, voices rising in that chaotic end-of-day energy.
Then Spirit went rigid.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” Spirit’s voice was sharp, pointing toward a woman talking to Monroe near the curb.
Kennedi followed her gaze. The woman was too close, her body language aggressive, and Monroe’s shoulders were hunched, her face turned away like she was trying to escape without making a scene.
Kennedi read the situation immediately.
“Oh hell the fuck no,” she said, throwing the car in park and jumping out. Monroe had become like a niece to her. She wasn’t going to stand for her cowering to anyone, especially not an accused crackhead.
Spirit was right behind her. “That’s Monshay’s funky ass.”
When they approached, Monroe spotted Kennedi and ran to her side, relief washing over her face.
“Do we have a problem here?” Kennedi asked Monroe, but never took her eyes off Monshay. To the naked eye, the woman looked like she had her shit together—hair done, outfit coordinated—but dilated pupils didn’t lie.
“Who the fuck are you? Bitch, this is my child.”
“Sure don’t seem that way to me. And watch your mouth when speaking to me and in front of children. I’d hate to have to pop you in it.”
“Shay, this is Kennedi. Uncle Ro’s girlfriend. You aren’t supposed to be here. So go and stop coming here. You’re embarrassing me.” Monroe’s voice shook slightly.
Monshay looked Kennedi up and down, taking her in with a sneer before her eyes landed on the small swell of her belly. Then she turned to Spirit, and her whole face twisted into something you’d see on Jeepers Creepers.
“Hmm. Still mad I took your man?” Monshay laughed, the sound sharp and cutting. “You can have him.”
Spirit’s jaw clenched. She was counting, breathing through it, trying to stay calm. She owed Monshay an ass-whooping—not even about Robin anymore, the principle. But she wouldn’t do that on school property or in front of Monroe.
“Monroe, are you okay? Let me get you to the car.” Spirit gently guided Monroe away, shielding her from her mother’s toxicity.
But before she walked off completely, Spirit leaned in close to Monshay, voice low and deadly.
“I wish a crackhead would try and hold onto a nigga I could have eating my ass with one phone call.” Her eyes dropped to Monshay’s hairline, then her nose.
“And next time you come outside, make sure your wig ain’t lifting, and you wipe your nose.
Enjoy your miserable life. Stupid ass bitch. ”
Spirit walked off with Monroe, helping her into the car. She never took her eyes off Monshay’s trifling ass. Once a snake, always a snake.
Kennedi stepped forward, putting herself between Monshay and the Navigator behind her.
“Monshay, take your raggedy ass on, and this is me being nice. If I call Rolani, you might as well call your people to start making arrangements for your homegoing services.”
Kennedi wasn’t in the mood, and she didn’t want to cause a big scene at the school. Robin paid top dollar for Monroe to attend here.
“Rolani is not her father, and you for damn sure ain’t her mother.” Monshay’s voice cracked, desperation bleeding through. “I’m getting clean, and I need my daughter to help me with that. Robin can’t do this to me. I need her.”
Kennedi’s expression didn’t change. “Look at me. Does it look like I give a fuck about your sob story?” Her voice was ice-cold.
“There’s no excuse for your behavior. Stay away, or when I drop this baby, I’m going to bash your damn face in.
Upsetting her is not going to fly or happen on my watch.
Go away. It’s not her job to help you get clean. ”
Kennedi and Monroe had a lengthy conversation about her mother that first night she’d stayed over.
It was like Monroe had been holding it in, waiting for a moment where it felt safe enough to finally let it out.
Kennedi didn’t know the pain of not having a mother; hers had always been her safe place, her warmth, her shield.
But listening to Monroe talk about Monshay, about the absences and broken promises, pulled at her in a way she couldn’t shake.
This was Monroe’s reality. It was unfair, but Monroe was so smart, and that brain of hers was going to take her places. Monshay would regret being inconsistent, regret choosing everything and everybody over her baby. One day, it would hit her. But by then, it would be too late.
“This ain’t over, bitch.”
“Police on the way.” Kennedi pulled out her phone, screen already showing the call connecting. “So you better crawl back under the bridge your wicked ass crawled out from. And please don’t ignore my promise. It’ll be belt to ass if you keep it up.”
Monshay’s eyes widened. She looked around—other parents were watching now. She backed up, then turned and walked quickly toward the parking lot, throwing one last glare over her shoulder before disappearing.
Kennedi slid into the car, hands gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. She took a breath, then glanced in the rearview mirror at Monroe, who was staring out the window, jaw tight.
Kennedi wasn’t going to address what happened. Not yet. Monroe needed space, needed to process. So instead, she shifted gears—literally and figuratively.
“Spell ‘indomitable,’” Kennedi said, pulling out of the parking lot.
Monroe’s head lifted, a small smile breaking through. “I-N-D-O-M-I-T-A-B-L-E. Indomitable. Adjective. Impossible to subdue or defeat.”
“Use it in a sentence.”
Monroe’s smile grew. “Monroe Pracher has an indomitable spirit.”
Spirit’s laugh burst out before she could stop it. “That’s a fact right there.”
Kennedi grinned, eyes flicking to the mirror. “Damn right. Now, I think we deserve a treat for handling that so well. Little LA wants some ice cream. Let’s go to Roll’d and Topped Creamery.”
“Yayyy!” Monroe cheered. “I need two treats for my troubles.”
“It’s on Uncle Ro, so we ball.”
Kennedi turned the radio up, and the girls finished their afternoon singing along and laughing until they made it to the ice creamery.
Monroe got her Cookies & Cream with extra Oreos, Spirit ordered some elaborate caramel situation, and Kennedi stuck with strawberry cheesecake because Little LA had very specific cravings.
He didn’t play that mess. The day was perfect, and she had managed to put a smile on Monroe’s face.
By the time they pulled back into Rolani’s driveway, the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. Spirit had left an hour ago, claiming she had unpacking to do but really needing space to process seeing Monshay after all these years.
Monroe had been quiet since they got home, retreating to her room to finish homework while Kennedi started dinner. Now, as night settled in and the house grew darker, Kennedi could hear Monroe’s footsteps padding down the hallway.
She appeared in the kitchen doorway, still in her school clothes, backpack abandoned somewhere upstairs.
“Hey, Roe.” Kennedi looked up from the stove. “You hungry? I’m making spaghetti.”
“Not really.” Monroe slid onto one of the barstools at the island, fingers tracing patterns on the marble countertop. “Can we talk?”