TWENTY-FOUR
Knocking interrupts the conversation with the new artist eager to perform on Friday. Anif sticks his head in and says, “Come out back.”
“Okay.” I rise from the chair. “We’ll wrap up here.”
“Thanks for the chance,” the manager says, shaking my hand.
Ashia reaches out to do the same. “Thank you. I can’t wait for my first live show.”
“You’re talented. I’m honored you’ll perform here.”
“Appreciate it,” she beams.
I leave the office with them and follow my trusted bouncer into the short passage. He leads me out the back exit. My steps halt as I see my mama under the light, looking ragged.
“She says she won’t leave until you talk to her,” Anif explains. “She tried to come into the club.”
“Thanks, man. I got it.”
He retreats inside and closes the door to give me privacy.
“Hey, son,” Mama chirps, scratching her arms through the dirty jacket.
“Why did you come here?”
“I need your help. I’m not doing too good.”
“An understatement,” I huff. “If you want money for drugs, forget it. I’m not funding your habit.”
She wobbles her head. “I’ll go back to the sober house. I’ll give it a shot again.”
Frustrated, I scrub my palm down my face. “You’ll stay a few days, maybe a week, and then take off again.”
“I promise I’ll stick to it this time, son. Could you help me out, though? I need one last fix before I go.”
“God. It’s always one more. Never is the last.”
“Come on, Kross,” she hisses, becoming irritated. “You owe me. I could have had an abortion when Soul threatened to kill me for being pregnant. But I fought him and survived to have you. I turned tricks to provide for you .”
“You like to throw that in my face when I refuse to enable your addiction,” I grunt. “Like it’s my fault you hooked up with a pimp, much less sold your body for money. You did all that on your own. I couldn’t even find you for most of my younger years. If I hadn’t met Cairo, I’d probably be dead or in prison.”
“Dammit!” she cries and holds her head. “Why do you have to hurt my heart like that?” She crouches on the ground, looking pitiful.
“Mama…” I grasp her arms and help her up. “Let me take you to rehab tonight.”
“No!” She writhes away from me. “You know I don’t like those places.”
“They can help you.”
“I don’t need help from nobody,” she grits, backing away. “Not even you. Forget it, Kross. Just forget it.”
“Mama, wait.” I reach for her arm as she turns.
She peels around and smacks me across the face, regretting it as I touch my stinging jaw. “Oh, baby. I didn’t mean to do that.”
“Leave!” I spit in fury. “Do what you’re good at.”
Crying, she speed-walks down the dark street. My feet move forward a tad, part of me wanting to chase her. But I’m exhausted. Maybe it truly is time to let go.
I compose myself and veer back inside. Anif casts me a sympathetic look before heading to the main area.
When I emerge from the passage, Cairo approaches and hands me a drink. “You good? What happened?”
I throw back the liquor and tell him, “It was my mama. She wanted money for drugs and took off when I wouldn’t give her any.”
“Damn,” he exhales. “Want me to drive around and look for Mashonda? Maybe I could put her in—”
“It’s cool, man. Don’t worry about it.”
He scowls. “You sure?”
“I’m letting her go. It’s high time.”
Doubt clouds his gaze while he studies my face.
“Look, she’s…” I forget the ability to talk as Davia appears in a burgundy, mid-thigh, bandage-style dress that hugs her curvy figure and shows a bit of cleavage. It’s like she came fresh off the runway, hair in loose waves, smoky makeup with red lips, skin oiled up and glowing under the lights.
“Damn, look at Davia,” Cairo remarks, nudging my arm like I’m not staring at the incredible visual. “Respectfully, of course. Listen, forget what I said. She came to see her man. That man is you .” He flashes me a knowing look before walking off, nodding to Davia as she approaches me.
“Hi.” Her brown eyes glisten with her radiant smile. “I’d like that drink.”
I trail over her in awe. “Baby girl, you look so good.”
“Thank you.” She runs her palms down the front of the dress. “I made this last year.”
“Thank you for wearing it.”
She plays with her hair, smiling shyly. “So...”
“Hang on.” I walk to the bar, grab a bottle and another glass, and lead Davia into my office.
She sits on the sofa, watching me pour the alcohol.
“You drove?” I check, sitting beside her.
“Took an Uber.”
I hand her the drink, hit it with mine, and chug.
“What’s the matter?” she asks softly. “You seem a bit uneasy.”
Talking openly about my mama is difficult, but my heart wants to spill everything to Davia. “Saw my mom out back tonight. She wanted money for drugs. Said some horrible things when I wouldn’t give her any.”
“I’m sorry.” She rubs my arm affectionately.
“It’s tough. Wanting to help her but can’t. After all these years and all the pain she caused, I still want to help her.” I pour more alcohol and throw it back.
“You have a good heart, and she’s your mama.”
I glance at where she’s still rubbing me on my arm. Catching herself, she eases her hand away and gulps her drink.
“So you and ol’ boy made up after your so-called walk in the park?” I question while pouring more.
She side-eyes me. “Kross.”
I chug the drink, jealousy boiling at the thought of him touching her. “You let him hit?”
Her head lowers. “That’s none of your business.”
My lips curl as I discern the truth in her expression. “You didn’t. Good.”
She finishes her drink and pours more. “You think you have a right to what’s between my legs?”
“Still don’t want you giving him a fucking thing.”
“Geez.” She cuts her gaze and gulps the alcohol.
I observe her intensely. “You happy with him?”
“You already asked me that, Kross.”
“I’m asking again. This time, tell me the truth.”
“About what?” Her eyes travel around the office, regarding everything but me.
I place my finger under her chin and gently steer her focus back. “How do you feel, baby girl?”
A low moan escapes her as I brush her hair aside and touch her ear. “Kross… stop.”
“Stop what?” I scoff. “Quit acting like you didn’t wear this sexy ass dress for me after I told you to come out and have a drink with me.”
She clicks her tongue. “I have a man. Yes, he’s always busy, but he’s a good man. He loves me.”
“Then why are you staring at me all horny? Where’s he at, and why aren’t you there with him?”
Her lust-fueled eyes fall to the drink in her hand.
“Why are you here, Davi? Tell me the truth.”
She looks at me. “I like being near you.”
“Cause you’re feeling me.” I take her glass and set both on the coffee table.
“It’s because Jamir neglects me. We barely spend any time together, and when we do—”
“—Your mind is on me.” I shift closer to run my fingers over her smooth thigh, causing quivers. “You want me.”
“Kross,” she whispers shakily. “That’s wrong. Calling you in Paris was wrong.”
“What if we’re right?” I counter.
She looks at where I’m touching her. “I don’t know.”
“Spend some time with me to figure it out. We’ll talk, do fun shit. Nothing more unless you say so.” I caress her cheek, making her look at me again.
As I start moving in for a long-awaited kiss, her focus catches something behind me, and she scurries to her feet. “Iree’s here.”
I glance at the security camera, seeing Iree with her friends. “So what?”
“Fuck.” Davia touches her temples. “What did you do to me? I can’t think straight when I’m with you. And you haunt me when I’m not.”
I stand and take her hands. “Because you want me. But you’re afraid, so you keep fighting it.”
The closeness has us breathing hard. I consider leaning in for a kiss, but doubt clouds her gaze again, and she pulls away. “I have to go.”
“Don’t leave. Stay and talk to me.”
“Kross, I can’t.” She rushes out the door.
I chase after her, stalling when I realize she’s ducking through the crowd to avoid Iree, head low until she reaches the exit. Davia probably doesn’t want her co-worker and friend thinking less of her for chilling with me when she’s still in a relationship. But regardless, I won’t stop until she’s mine.