Chapter 15 #2
I sat in the driver’s seat with the door cracked, too tired to move.
My scrubs clung to me, damp with sweat, and my eyes still burned from all the crying.
Maybe all of this was confirmation that Atlanta was a chop, and I needed to cut my losses and go home to New York.
This contract was draining the life out of me, whatever was—or wasn’t—happening between me and Cash seemed dead, and now this mess with my car?
Could the Universe be any louder?
Heavy bass filled the quiet garage, headlights sweeping over my car as a black Maserati SUV slid into the space next to me.
Marcus hopped out and slammed the door behind him. He looked like he’d been pretty comfortable wherever he was coming from, based on the basketball shorts and white tank he had on.
“Damn,” he muttered, eyeing the damage. “They really fucked your shit up.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t even know why. I don’t bother anybody.”
He studied me for a long second. “You been crying, Juicy?”
“Stop calling me that,” I grumbled, looking away.
He pulled me into his arms before I could move. I tensed at first, but let him hold me. I felt myself unravel just a bit, taking in his scent—soap, sandalwood, and a faint trace of weed. He still smelled just like I remembered. I was surprised that it settled something in me.
His laugh rumbled in his chest. “My fault, mama. Old habit.”
He let me go and tipped his head toward the trunk. “Pop it and go sit in my car. I’ll call a tow.”
I hesitated.
“Jas,” he said gently. “You called me for a reason. Let me handle it.”
I pressed the button and passed him my keys.
He got right to work, his phone cradled between his shoulder and ear, as he used the mini vacuum from my trunk to clean up the broken glass from the backseat.
Thirty minutes later, the tow truck had pulled off. I wouldn’t know how much the repairs would be until morning.
Marcus climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car, and turned down the music that blasted through the speakers.
“I’ll pay you back once I get this situated,” I said quietly.
He looked over, frowning. “Pay me back for what? That wasn’t shit.”
“I’m serious, Marcus. You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t,” he cut me off. “I wanted to. And anyway, my boy owns the tow company. It’s not costing me or you anything.”
I sucked my teeth and looked out the window. I hated owing people, and I especially didn’t want to be indebted to him. Something told me that this wasn’t going to come without some kind of string attached.
“There is something you could do.”
I turned my head. “What?”
He grinned. “Let me take you out.”
I balked as my chest tightened.
I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it still threw me. My mind went straight to Cash. Even with us not speaking, he still occupied the corners of my thoughts.
Marcus represented an entire era of my life I’d put behind me.
Before my pre-frontal cortex really developed—when I was outside, young, dumb, and running off emotion.
I fell for his potential and the fantasy he painted of money, trips, and buying me whatever.
All that got old real fast once I realized he was too deep in street life, and I wasn’t tryna be nobody’s ride or die.
I needed stability, not constant stress and anxiety.
I wasn’t built for conjugal visits or the feds kicking down my door.
And yet… here he was. A whole decade later—a whole lot finer and apparently with the money he’d always dreamed of having.
I wasn’t naive. A Maserati fresh out of prison? I already knew Marcus was still into some shit, which made him no different than Cash.
“Jas,” he said, holding out his phone. “It’s just dinner. It’s not that deep.”
“Yeah, sure,” I said, typing my address into the maps app.
This was fine.
Marcus beamed, squeezing my thigh before he reversed out the spot. I leaned my head against the window, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that came with his touch.
* * *
“Ooh! Where you going?” Amber asked when I picked her FaceTime.
I spun one last time in the mirror, looking over my outfit. “Out.”
“With your boo Cash?”
“With Marcus, actually,” I said, chewing on lip as I waited to see her reaction.
Amber’s face bunched up. “Not thee Marcus Stokes. Y’all having some video jail date?”
I laughed, sitting on the edge of my bed. “Friend, so much has happened in these past two weeks. I been meaning to call you, but all I want to do after work is sleep.”
“Uh, yeah. Because last time we spoke you were dressed in Versace going on a date with Cash.”
I gave her the quick run down of events up to my car being vandalized.
“I can’t believe you didn’t call me!” Amber said when I was finished.
“I know, I know. I’ve just been so overwhelmed. I’m blown that I’m gonna have to dip into my savings to fix my car, but I guess I should be grateful I have it, right?”
“Yeah, still sucks though. I can’t believe Marcus is out. Donny didn’t mention it to me.”
Donny was Amber’s older brother who introduced me to Marcus, they used to hustle together back in the day.
I shrugged. “Maybe he’s keeping his word and keeping my hands clean.”
Amber clicked her tongue. “Barely. I don’t even think that truck company he works for is completely legit, but I mind the business that pays me.”
“True,” I said, applying another coat of lipgloss.
“So you and Marcus, huh? You think you’d give you guys another shot?”
“I don’t know. I don’t even really want to go out with him. The physical attraction is still there, but something just feels off. I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Well it’s been a decade and he’s not the same person, maybe it’s that.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
A text notification popped up at the top of my screen.
Marcus: I’m here
“Alright, girl. Let me go. He’s here.”
“Have fun! I need a full debrief after,” she said, pointing a finger into the camera.
Marcus’s truck was idling in front of the building with its hazards on.
“Hey,” I said, climbing in.
“‘Sup, mama?” he said, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek. Instead of heading to the exit, he turned into the resident lot and rolled to a stop in front of my assigned space—where a matte black Mercedes coupe now sat, parked in the spot where my Altima used to be.
I looked at him, confused. He reached into the center console and held out a key fob.
“What is this?”
”Your new car,” he grinned at me stupidly.
I looked from him to the Benz and back again. “What about my Altima? I just got a quote for the repairs this morning.”
“It was old. Plus, whoever did that shit to it knows where you work and what you drive. Who’s to say they wouldn’t do it again?” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “How were you supposed to get to work? The bus? Uber? You needed a ride, so I just upgraded you.”
A sour taste filled my mouth. The car wasn’t even my style. First of all, I’d never drive a coupe. Second of all, something about the oxblood red interior. I just knew my coworkers would immediately assume that I was doing some shady shit.
“It just needed new tires and the window replaced. It was a perfectly good car,” I said, trying not to raise my voice.
“Remember I told you I’d buy you anything you wanted once I got my shit together?” he asked, suddenly growing serious. “This is me doing that. I’m trying to make up for lost time with you.”
“By buying me a tricked-out Mercedes? I can’t drive this to work, Marcus.”
His jaw ticked as he stared ahead.
“I’m not tryna make you upset, Jas. I just wanted to do something nice.”
I glanced at the car again, forcing myself to swallow the irritation building in my chest. I wanted him to return it and give me back my car.
It wasn’t fancy or new, but it was reliable and low-maintenance.
I couldn’t afford Mercedes repairs or premium gas on a nurse’s salary. He really hadn’t thought this through.
But this wasn’t the time to push it. Not because I was scared of him, but because I didn’t feel like dragging this night out more than I had to.
I closed my eyes and took a breath, forcing a smile. “Fine. Thank you.”
He lit up immediately. It was like my approval flipped some kind of switch.
“It suits you. You’ll get used to it,” he said, dropping the fob in my hand.
“Mmhm.” I pulled out my phone but didn’t know who to text.
Monica was my girl, but I was sure she’d tell Jelani, and Jelani would tell Cash—and all I needed was that nigga to show up somewhere swinging his gun around again.
Amber would probably tell me to sell it for something I actually liked, which made sense, but wasn’t really the point.
I bit back another sigh and scrolled through my social media feed instead, halfway listening to whatever he was prattling on about.
Dinner was at a cozy Italian spot Marcus picked.
Despite the stunt with the new car, he’d insisted this was a friendly date, so I kept my outfit lowkey and went with jeans and an oversized cardigan since it had finally cooled down.
I did a no-makeup-makeup look, and straightened the bundles I’d gotten installed recently.
The hostess led us to our table, where a bottle of champagne sat chilling in an ice bucket.
“You look good,” he said as we sat. “Is Italian still your favorite?”
I smiled despite myself, a little surprised. “You remembered that after all these years?”
“You begged me to take you to Del Marco’s like every other day,” he smirked.
“They had the best veal parm!” I laughed, relaxing a little.
“I’ve never eaten here, but my boy says this is one of the best Italian restaurants in Atlanta,” he said, pouring me a glass.
I scoffed, taking the glass from him. “I’ll be the judge of that. Not everybody does Italian food like New York.”
“Facts,” he chuckled, raising his glass. “Let’s toast—to reconnecting with old friends,” he lifted his glass.
My brow furrowed slightly, but I tapped my glass against his anyway with a quiet hum of agreement.