Chapter 1
KONIKA “KOKO” HOLIDAY
I stared at the lease agreement spread across the desk in Lakeview Pointe’s management office. My pen hovered over the signature line, and for a second, I sat there in utter disbelief.
After months of sleeping in my car, scrubbing myself clean in gas station bathrooms, and eating what I could when I could, things were finally looking up.
Mrs. Mary, my ex-boyfriend’s mom, sat beside me with her reading glasses perched on her nose. Her wrinkled finger pointed to where I needed to initial, and she glared at me impatiently.
“What are you waiting for? You nervous? Sign the damn documents, chile.”
I wasn’t nervous, far from it. If anything, I was trying not to smile too hard.
I signed my name on the dotted line and dated the lease.
“That’s my girl,” Mrs. Mary said, removing her glasses to wipe them on her cardigan. “You know Reverend Coleman at Mount Zion? He runs this housing initiative for people trying to get their lives back together. Been doing it for nearly ten years now.”
I nodded, even though I’d already heard this story. Mrs. Mary had told me three times over the past week, each time with the same pride in her voice.
“He owed me a favor,” Mrs. Mary continued, her voice taking on that matter-of-fact tone she used when she was about to explain something important. “And he owed me because back in ‘09, I helped his daughter get into nursing school after some trouble. Life comes around, you know?”
“I appreciate this more than you know. Thank you,” I said, and I meant it.
Mrs. Mary could’ve written me off when things went sideways with Booda. Instead, she’d shown up when I had nothing, and I didn’t know how I would repay her, but one day, I would.
Mrs. Mary waved a hand dismissively, but I caught the slight smile at the corner of her mouth. “You’re family, baby. That’s what family does.”
I reached over and hugged Mrs. Mary before grabbing the keys from the property manager’s outstretched hand. We left the management office and walked out into the afternoon heat.
The parking lot shimmered with cars baking under the sun. Mrs. Mary’s old Cadillac sat in a spot near the entrance, cream-colored and pristine despite its age. She kept that car like it was made of gold.
“You’re gonna be alright. Just keep God first, and everything will come back to you in due time,” Mrs. Mary said as we approached her vehicle.
I nodded, absorbing her words with gratitude and a quiet skepticism I kept to myself.
God first. I’d heard that my whole life, and it hadn’t stopped me from making the choices that landed me in a car six months ago with nothing but two changes of clothes and a . 9mm I’d kept wrapped in an old gym bag.
But I wasn’t going to argue with Mrs. Mary. Not when she’d just handed me a fresh start.
“I will,” I said, squeezing her hand as we stopped beside the Cadillac. “I promise.”
She unlocked the car and settled into the driver’s seat with a soft groan, the kind that came from a body that had worked hard for sixty-three years.
“You need anything, you call me. Don’t matter if it’s three in the morning or three in the afternoon.”
I nodded. My mouth opened, then closed. I looked off toward the parking lot for a second before I looked back at her. I was hesitating because I knew she wouldn’t like my next question, but I couldn’t help myself.
“You heard anything else about him?”
Mrs. Mary’s hand paused on the steering wheel. Not long. Just long enough for me to notice.
“About who?” she asked, even though she knew exactly who I meant.
“Bood—” I quickly caught myself because she didn’t play that. “I’m sorry. I meant Davion. Have you heard anything from him?”
She let out a breath through her nose and shook her head. “I told you what it is,” she said. “He got a lot of time, baby. More than you think. And he don’t need you worrying him while he tryna do his bid. It ain’t good for his mental health.”
“Worry him? If anything, he the one worrying me. It ain’t fair how he doing me, Mrs. Mary,” I shot back, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
“How he doing you?” she repeated with disbelief.
“That boy is being selfless by not dragging you through that with him. Time ain’t just hard for the people on the inside.
It’s hard for people on the outside, too.
You should be thanking God Davion loves you enough to keep you from having to go through that. ”
“But I love him,” I whined.
“And he loves you too, but right now you being real selfish. You only thinking about yourself. Have you considered what he’s going through, having to be away from you and his family? Or how strong he has to be to even let you go?” She asked, and I instantly felt like shit.
“I’m not selfish, and you know it. I just asked the question because I miss him.”
“And I answered it,” she said quickly. “Leave that boy where he at. Best thing you can do for him, and yourself is move on with your life.”
I studied her face, wondering why she looked so upset, but she smoothed everything over so fast that I thought I might have been seeing things.
“You got a place now,” she added. “Focus on getting back on your feet, so you won’t ever be in this position again. I won’t always be around, you know.”
“Okay, Mrs. Mary. Thank you again,” I replied, even though something about her reaction to my question never sat right with me.
“You welcome, chile. I love you like you one of my own and want to see you thrive, so make sure you take care of yourself.”
“I love you, too, and I will.”
Mrs. Mary pulled her door shut and cranked her engine. A second later, she eased out of her parking space and drove off without looking back. I stood there for a moment, watching her disappear.
The days leading up to this moment had been long. I remembered getting out of the hospital with not a dollar to my name, no memory, and no one I could call.
Instinct led me back to the home I once shared with my ex-boyfriend, Booda. When I got there, I damn near fainted. Everything was gone, and it looked like no one had ever lived there.
From there, another memory came back to me.
We had a stash house, so I hitchhiked a ride across town to get to it.
When I arrived, I saw that thieves had broken into it and torn it apart.
The only good thing was that one of our cars was still there, and I also found a small stash of money they had missed.
That was how I got a vehicle and a little cash.
Everything I owned was crammed into the back seat and trunk, packed into boxes that had seen better days. I opened the back door and grabbed the closest one, adjusting it against my hip before pushing the door shut with my foot. It wasn’t much, but it was all I had.
I turned toward the building and headed for the stairs, keys in hand. The heat clung to my skin, and the weight of the box dug into my arms, but I didn’t slow down.
I had a place now. That was enough.
“Bitch, run me whatever you got in them flat-ass pockets. And it better not be air,” a boy, no older than thirteen, spat as the cold metal of his gun barrel kissed my forehead, stopping me in my tracks.
Baby fat still sat in his cheeks, and his caramel skin was too smooth to have ever seen a breakout. However, the way he gripped that .38 made him look far older than his age.
I looked at the revolver, then at him, and my lip curled instantly. My first thought was to snatch that pistol and shoot him in the face.
But then, where would I go?
It wasn’t like I had many options. I had more lint in my pocket than cash. More importantly, there were no other apartments I could afford. Not many places worked with a zero-dollar budget.
I slowly set the box I’d been holding in my arms on the sidewalk, then took a small step forward to see what the kid would do.
He took a step back. Like I knew he would.
“Get the fuck out of my face and find you something safe to do. You picked the wrong one to try,” I warned, hoping he’d take heed because I wasn’t for the bullshit today.
The boy didn’t move. If anything, his grip tightened, and his chin lifted. He had something to prove.
“Just do what I said before things get ugly. Think I’m playing?” he shot back, head tilting to the side, eyes narrowing as he glared at me.
Breathing deeply, I held up my fingers between us. “Three.”
“Keep going,” the boy said, licking his lips. “You get to one, and I ain’t got my money, you’re the one that’s gon’ be getting buried. Think it’s a game.”
I grinned, liking this lil’ fella’s spirit. If he wasn’t standing in front of me with a weapon, trying to rob me for what little I had, I might’ve liked him. He had heart. Just not enough sense to go with it.
“Two.” I folded a finger down.
The kid shifted his feet, but kept the gun up, trying to hold onto his pride. However, I could tell he was scared shitless. This had to be the first time he’d ever gotten pushback.
“I don’t want to hurt you, lady. Just give up the goddamn money,” he sneered, trying to hold eye contact but kept blinking too fast.
I let my eyes sit on him, really sit, so he would feel it.
He swallowed. Sweat beads slid down the side of his face, and he scraped a hand through his hair.
“One.”
My hand dropped, and I stepped into him faster than he could react. One swift motion slapped his arm down. Another twisted behind him, grabbed his wrist, and forced his firearm up to his temple.
“You gon’ do what to who?” I asked, smashing the barrel into his skull.
Piss ran down his legs, and his knees locked. “I—I was just—” His voice shrank, losing all that edge it had a second ago.
“Just what?” I maneuvered his wrist to make him smack himself across the head with his revolver. “I could kill you right now and get away with it,” I whispered in his ear, fighting the urge to do just that.
A screen door slammed, and a woman’s panicked shout came from behind me.
“Wait! Please! That’s my baby. Don’t hurt him. I’m begging you.”