Chapter 6
I felt Rome’s hand sliding up my thigh and I blinked, groggy, face half in the pillow. The sun was peeking through the blinds just enough to kiss the edge of the bed. I rolled over slowly and looked up at him, standing there already dressed in a fly ass designer suit and shoes.
“What time is it?” I asked, voice scratchy.
“Late enough, but I ain’t wanna leave without seein’ you smile first.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, then motioned toward the tray he set down on the nightstand.
I sat up, confused, eyes still adjusting.
On the tray was a mini spread of my favorite breakfast. There were buttery-ass grits, scrambled eggs with cheese, turkey bacon on the side, and a biscuit.
There was even a tiny jar of strawberry jelly sitting next to the napkin and a bottle of orange banana juice.
“Who cooked this?” I asked, eyebrows raised. Rome never touched a stove, but when he wanted to show love, he paid attention. Or paid somebody else to do it.
He smirked. “Smith’s Diner. I told ‘em exactly how to make it.”
“You tryna be sweet this mornin’?” I asked, already taking a bite of the biscuit.
“Just makin’ sure you start your day right.”
I didn’t say anything. Just kept chewing slowly, avoiding his eyes. He pulled something else from his hoodie pocket and laid it on the bed. It was a long black velvet box, and I knew there was jewelry inside.
“Rome…”
“Just open it,” he said fast, chuckling.
I opened the box slowly and revealed a diamond anklet. The shit was fly. I didn’t know what to say. It was exactly how Rome did shit and I knew it was an apology gift but I smiled anyway. “It’s nice. Thank you.”
He leaned over, kissed my lips softly, then gripped my chin with two fingers. “You mine, right?”
The question came out smooth but heavy. I nodded, barely. “Yeah.”
He kissed me again. “I gotta go handle shit. Be back later tonight.” He grabbed his keys and walked out of the bedroom. The door closed behind him, and silence rushed in. I finished breakfast, showered, and then got dressed to head to the cemetery.
???
Grimwood Memorial was half full when I pulled up.
I could feel the heavy energy before I even got out of the car.
I grabbed the flowers I picked up from the florist on the way and walked through the gates.
King’s plot was near the back, under a twisted old tree with branches that moved even when the air didn’t.
KAMARI “KING” HARRIS
BELOVED SON, HUSBAND, LEADER
FOREVER IN POWER
I stood there, staring, not ready to speak. The wind kicked up out of nowhere, hitting the back of my neck like a breath. And then I heard a whisper so clear it felt like lips brushed my ear.
“You ain’t safe with him.”
I spun around. Nobody was there. My heart started racing as I gripped the flowers tighter. A loud hiss broke the moment. A black cat darted across the path behind me, right between two stones, fast as hell.
I damn near jumped out of my skin, and the flowers slipped from my hand, hitting the ground face down.
They landed in the dirt like something pushed them out of my grip.
I dropped to my knees, chest heaving, trying to catch my breath.
I stared at the petals scattered across the grass, the wind still slicing through the space like a warning.
“I miss you, babe,” I whispered, voice cracking as the tear slid down my cheek. “I really fuckin’ miss you.”
I sat there for a while. It was just me, the stone, and the weight of every choice I’d made since the last time I saw him breathing. A memory from when we were only about a year in came in suddenly.
King was hustling night and day, trying to come up off drug money. I was taking business classes with dreams of opening my own luxury boutique. It had been weeks since we spent some time together, and it was the eve of Halloween.
He carved the pumpkin while I made cinnamon rolls and pumpkin spiced margaritas, dancing to music. We argued about how wide the eyes should be, whether the mouth should have fangs. He ended up making the ugliest ass pumpkin I’d ever seen, then blamed it on the knife.
“Yo, this shit looks like it needs a facelift,” I laughed, doubled over.
He smiled, but then got serious. “Spendin’ time in the crib with you is really the only peace a nigga get,” he said.
I looked at him. “Then stay with me forever.”
He didn’t say anything. He just reached into a bag of mixed candy and opened a Ring Pop. Sliding it on my finger, he said, “That’s practice for the real one.”
Two weeks later, I had a diamond promise ring. Two months after that, we had our own spot. Everything was up from there.
I wiped my eyes and stood up, brushing off my knees.
I placed the flowers on the stone, adjusted them, and backed away slowly.
I still felt him there. Not just spiritually, either.
Like… really there. Like if I turned around fast enough, I’d see him standing behind me, hoodie up, arms folded, watching me like he used to when I talked too long on the phone with my girls, knowing he was trying to bend me over.
I let out a shaky breath, finally turned to leave, and that’s when my phone rang. The sudden buzz in my hand made me jump. Mama. I answered, voice still unsteady. “Hey.”
“Hey, baby. Your brother just landed last night. Come on by the house.”
I blinked. “Wait. Savior’s back?”
“Yes, girl. They gave him a few weeks at home before he has to deploy again.”
“Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”
“He was with his friends last night, Sky,” she snapped. “He asked about you as soon as he got up this morning. Said to tell your crazy tail don’t flake.”
I cracked a soft smile. “I’m on my way.”
???
My mother’s house was a few blocks from the cemetery, tucked between two ranch-style homes with giant-ass skeletons holding fake tombstones.
A “Boo Crew Lives Here” sign was stuck in the grass, and a plastic bat dangled off the porch like it was drunk.
The whole block was Halloween’d out with spiderwebs, fog machines, orange porch lights.
As I walked up the steps, a light breeze pushed a pumpkin wind chime against the siding. I swear it almost sounded like King’s ringtone from back in the day. I stopped for a second, shook the feeling off, and knocked on the door.
My mama opened it with rollers still in her hair and a kitchen rag in her hand. “There she go,” she said with a smirk. “Took you long enough.”
“Blame the traffic.”
Inside, the house smelled like Pine-Sol, baked mac, and hot comb grease.
Same as always. Savior came from the back wearing army fatigue joggers, a white tee, and socks.
He’d grown out his beard and had muscle now.
A little weight in his face, too. I was the oldest by four years but here he was, looking so damn grown.
“Look who finally showed up,” he said, pulling me into a hug.
“Boy, you grown as hell now.”
“So I’ve heard.” He stepped back, looking at me. “You look good. I mean, you look tired as hell too, but you still you.”
I smiled, but it didn’t reach all the way.
We all sat in the living room, eating and catching up for a while.
He told me about his base, his schedule, and how he’d only be home for a few weeks before being shipped out again.
When Mama went to check on her apple pie and Savior got up to take a FaceTime call, I slipped away from the noise and wandered toward the back porch.
The autumn air was sharp but not cold, just enough to make you pull your sweater tighter without complaining.
Leaves rustled across the deck like they didn’t want to settle, like they were searching for something.
I stood against the railing with my arms folded, trying to quiet my thoughts, but my mind wouldn’t stop spinning.
“King, you tryna tell me something?” I whispered to the wind, like he was close enough to hear.
The porch light above me flickered. Once. Then again. I turned toward it slowly, my stomach tightening. That wasn’t a loose bulb. That was him. I could feel it. I looked down, and that’s when I saw it.
A blunt just sitting in the ashtray like it’d just been rolled and set there waiting.
My breath caught. Nobody in this house smoked after my father passed when I was in high school.
Not inside. Not outside. I sat down before my knees buckled, heart thudding hard in my chest, fighting to hold it together.
“What you want? Huh?” I asked again, voice cracking under the weight of everything I’d been holding in.
“You good?”
I turned quickly at the sound of my brother’s voice. Savior stood in the doorway, phone in hand, eyebrows drawn low like he already knew I wasn’t. He stepped out and let the screen door close behind him softly.
I wiped at my eyes before a tear could fall. “Yeah. I’m straight.”
“You sure?” He didn’t sit yet, just stood there looking at me with that big brother concern I used to pretend I hated. “You seem off.”
I exhaled, looking back out at the yard. “Everybody keeps sayin’ that. This week makes...”
He nodded and finally sat beside me. “Three years. Shit still feels like yesterday.”
“I saw a blunt sittin’ in that ashtray,” I whispered. “Swear it shouldn’t be here.”
He looked at it and then at me. “Well, if it’s from King,” he said, voice low, “might as well spark it up in his honor.”
I let out a shaky laugh. “You stupid.”
“Nah. I’m serious. You feel him, don’t you?”
I nodded slowly. “Everywhere, bro.”
We sat in silence for a moment, the kind that didn’t feel awkward or forced. Just necessary. Then Savior said, “You know he wouldn’t want you stuck like this, right? Hurt, lookin’ back, and scared to move forward.”
I swallowed hard. “It’s not that easy. You wasn’t there that night.”
“I wasn’t,” he admitted. “But I know what it did to you. You ain’t been the same since, Sky. And I get it. But you gotta start livin’ again. For real.”
“I don’t even know where to start,” I said, voice barely a whisper.
“Start by lettin’ go of the guilt,” he said. “Start by trustin’ that King loved you so deeply he would want you to smile again. Laugh again. Hell, even love again.”
That made my stomach turn, but I didn’t argue. I couldn’t.
“You not crazy, Sky,” he added, softer now. “If you feel him, it’s because he still watchin’ over you. Still got you.” The porch light flickered again. This time just once. We both looked up and then looked at each other. Savior smiled faintly. “See?”
I shook my head with a laugh I couldn’t hold back. “Crazy ass.”
“Nah,” he said, bumping my shoulder. “That’s love.”
???
It was almost eight o’clock when I finally left. The streetlights were on, porch inflatables lit up, and skeletons and fake witches glowed purple and green. The second I turned the corner onto the quiet street we lived on, I saw Rome’s truck pulling in at the same time.
He slid out the driver’s side and I stepped out of my car slowly. I met him halfway up the walkway and the smell of smoke and perfume smacked me in the face like a reality check.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I asked, “How was your day?”
He shrugged. “Straight. Money moves.”
I tilted my head. “With who? Macy’s?”
Rome’s jaw twitched. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You smell like a bitch, Jerome. Again. That’s what it means.”
He looked at me hard. “Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” I asked, stepping closer. “Don’t call out what I know? Don’t question you when shit don’t add up?”
He reached for the door, and I grabbed his arm. He turned quickly. “Sky. Don’t.”
“Don’t what? You the one who always says I’m safe with you, right? You would never lie to me or hurt me, right? So tell me why the fuck you smell like that?”
His eyes went cold. “You really wanna start this shit tonight?”
“I ain’t startin’ shit. I just pulled up and got hit with a scent that don’t belong to me. You said you was handlin’ business. So what business you handlin’ that got you smellin’ like Jimmy Choo?”
He scoffed. “You trippin’.”
“Am I?”
We stood there staring at each other. And then he smiled one of those crooked little grins that meant he was lying but daring me to prove it. “I’ll shower,” he said, voice calm. “That make you feel better?”
I stepped back, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re ungrateful,” he shot back. “After every fuckin’ thing I do for you.”
I laughed. “You do for yourself. You just let me stand next to it. Move.”
I left his ass standing on the porch, and somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard it again. It was King’s voice, clear as day.
“That nigga ain’t who you think he is.”