Chapter 2 #5
“I came back to sign off on the statement,” he said, his voice pitched low, like he was trying not to break the air between us. “I saw your name again and figured I’d check on you.”
I raised an eyebrow, using sarcasm as my shield. “You making house calls now, Detective?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. That smirk unraveled me. “Only when the case feels… important.”
Whew. Sir. The way my body betrayed my lips twitching, my chest loosening, I wanted to roll my eyes, but a smile crept out before I could slam the door on it.
“You’re flirting with me outside my mama’s room?” I asked the words lighter than I intended. My voice betrayed me the same way my smile did.
He chuckled, deep and easy. “Nah. Just stating facts. You have a heaviness about you, but it doesn’t dim your light. I noticed it the first time you walked past me.”
I blinked. The compliment landed with the weight of unexpected piercing, and somehow truer than anything I’d let myself believe lately. My throat closed up, and I turned my head, swallowing against the lump rising fast. “Do you always talk like that?”
“Only when I mean it.”
He didn’t press me, didn’t poke at the wound, and didn’t ask for details I wasn’t ready to hand over. He just stood there, steady and patient, like a porch light burning after midnight, reminding you you’re not alone in the dark.
“You don’t have to talk now,” he said, folding his arms loosely, his tone smooth as vinyl spinning low in the background. “But if you ever need to,… I listen for a living.”
I nodded slowly. The weight of my silence was loud, but he carried it with me instead of filling it.
“Jonay,” he added, saying my name like it was a psalm. Sacred. Unrushed.
I looked up at him, startled by how much it mattered to hear my name said like that.
“You have people around you who love you. Don’t forget that. And don’t let some weak nigga’s actions make you question a strong woman’s worth.”
How the fuck did he know? That cracked something wide open inside me. It stung and soothed at the same time, like alcohol poured on a wound—burning, cleansing. My eyes threatened to spill over, but I held the tears hostage long enough to nod.
“Thank you,” I whispered because anything louder would’ve broken me down to the floor.
He gave me one last look, just a glance, but it said I see you. I mean it. Then he pushed off the wall and walked away, leaving the hallway colder than it had been a moment before.
And the wildest part? I already missed the warmth of being seen.
By the time I made it back home, the sky had turned the color of heartbreak: gray with a pink undertone, as if God was trying to offer me a soft touch after a hard ass week.
The sun was setting slowly, casting long shadows across my porch.
I stood at the door with my keys in one hand and anxiety in the other.
I stared at the door for a second longer than usual. I checked the knob and relocked it twice, just to be safe. There was no way I was going to be caught off guard again, not by him or anyone else.
The house smelled like lemon Pine-Sol and betrayal, though less so now. Jonell, Leila, and I had scrubbed every trace of Kam’s spirit out of the air, but sometimes, I swore I could still hear his voice hiding in the walls.
I tossed my keys onto the kitchen counter and kicked off my Crocs. The floor felt cold beneath my socks, and my bones were tired, but my soul was wide awake. I lit a sage bundle, just like my granny taught me, and walked through the house, praying under my breath like a Baptist ninja.
“Lord, cover this home. Cover this body. Cover this mind. Let no spirits enter that don’t come in peace. And if Kam tries it… please let my clip stay full.”
My phone buzzed just as I sat on the edge of the bed, mid-rub with my homemade cocoa butter. I picked it up without checking the name, my voice flat.
“Hello?”
Daddy’s voice came through deep and direct. “Baby girl, I ain’t tryna spook ya, but ya need to stay alert.”
I sat up straighter. “What do you mean?”
“Kam’s car been rolling past the house,” he said, low and steady. “I was sitting on the porch earlier, and I’ve seen him ride by slowly, twice now.”
My heart dropped and then climbed back up with a vengeance.
“Are you sure it was him?”
“I ain’t new, baby girl. I know that boy’s car like I know my damn truck. And he was looking at the house like it owed him something.”
I bit the inside of my cheek so hard it stung. “Why won’t he just leave me alone?”
“Because weak men don’t like losing control, especially not to strong women.”
I stood, walked to the front window, and peeked out through the blinds.
Nothing but dusk and quiet. But I knew better.
Kam was passive-aggressive, real “pull up at your job just to see if you’re there” vibes.
And lately, his whole vibe had gone left, grinning like he was chill but holding on too tight in ways that made the air feel crowded.
That unspoken claim, where his eyes said mine even when his mouth stayed shut.
He had started moving in a way that didn’t sit right with me; quiet but suffocating, smiling on the surface while his presence wrapped around me like barbed wire.
Real “I ain’t letting go, even if I gotta break you to keep you” behavior.
And the worst part, what I didn’t quite understand, was why he was so hellbent on getting me back.
He clearly made his choice, and that choice was my cousin Taleah.
I didn’t forgive cheating in any capacity.
And you chose a family member? A cousin I grew up with?
They could both descend to the lowest pits of hellfire and burn eternally, together.
I hated that part of me still wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt me, but I wasn’t taking chances anymore.
“I have my piece, Daddy,” I said, my voice calm like the storm just before the sky split. “If he shows up, I promise you, he won’t make it past the grass.”
“I don’t want it to come to that, but I know I raised a daughter who won’t fold.”
“You raised one who will finish it.”
“Be careful, baby girl.”
“Always.”
After we hung up, I sat in the dark for a moment, letting the quiet creep in. Then I stood, walked over to the door, and checked the locks again.
Top bolt. Click. Middle latch. Slide. Bottom deadbolt. Secure.
Then I leaned against the frame and whispered low, to nobody and everybody, “I wish you fucking would.”