23. Psalm
Psalm
The first thing I noticed when I pulled into Flip’d was Lucky’s Jeep.
The second thing I noticed was that she parked it crooked as hell.
“Little greedy ass couldn’t wait to fly in here and eat,” I laughed, climbing out of my truck.
The whole parking lot was packed. People sat on and inside their cars, music playing just loud enough for their own little private parties.
A couple of people waved as I sauntered through the crowd.
Others gave me a head nod, letting me know they saw me, but the vibe was too high to be interrupted by actual conversation.
Inside was even more congested.
The atmosphere felt less like a restaurant and more like a house party.
Loud music, food, laughter, and energy flowed through every corner of the building.
A few people invited me to join them at their tables.
Seeing as there wasn't an empty one in sight.
I politely declined every invitation because my eyes were searching for one person.
Juliet.
When I spotted Mega and Yahya sitting near the back windows, I headed straight toward them.
What I saw on Yahya's face immediately threw me off.
She looked drained.
None of that loud, messy energy radiated from her. Her eyes appeared stained from crying, and two untouched burgers sat in front of them alongside fries, melted milkshake floats, and half-drank glasses of water.
Yahya locked eyes with me and immediately straightened up.
The discomfort in her shoulders was obvious.
Almost like my presence scared her.
She quickly tapped Mega, who had his head lowered toward the table. He slowly looked up and followed her gaze.
The second he saw me, his body tensed too.
Fuck was going on?
“Where Lucky at?”
The question came out more like a demand than anything else.
Neither one answered.
Instead, they exchanged a look that made my stomach tighten.
“Yah,” I pressed. “What's up? Where's Juliet?”
Their entire aura was making me uncomfortable, and they had one more chance not to answer me before Juliet was apologizing to her friends on my behalf.
“We thought she was with you,” Yahya finally said, clearing her throat.
Whatever had her looking like this was about to set me off. I could feel it in my bones.
“What? How the fuck could you think that?”
“Because I dropped her off at your house.”
“When, Yahya? What time?”
She visibly jumped at the increasing octave of my voice.
“An incident happened not too long ago,” Mega started.
“Incident?” I snapped. “Ayo, Mega, where the fuck my girl at, bro?”
These niggas weren't talking fast enough.
Pulling at the straps of my backpack, I began rocking back and forth.
Calming mechanism.
“Psalm, chill, bro. Physically she's fine, but she got into a word exchange with Ava, and Ava said some pretty foul shit. She didn't want to talk to nobody else but you. She was too distraught to drive, so Yahya took her to your house.”
“And y'all ain't make sure she got inside before y'all pulled off?”
The guilt on both of their faces answered the question before either one opened their mouths.
I didn't have the sympathy or the fucks to give.
A cold sensation rushed through my body like I'd swallowed crushed ice. It settled deep in my bones and forced my focus away from Juliet's friends and toward my house.
Alonse.
His brief interaction with Juliet flashed through my mind. The way he’d reacted to seeing her. The way he’d stared. The way his entire demeanor shifted.
That shit wasn’t normal.
Hell, he wasn’t normal.
“She didn't call you?” Yahya asked, interrupting my thoughts.
Whether she called me or not, I needed to call her. So, I pulled my phone from my pocket, completely ignoring Yahya’s question.
Frantically tapping the screen a few times, I groaned.
My shit was dead.
“Fuck!” I let that word fly so angrily, a few people turned in our direction.
The chill intensified and traveled straight to my heart.
“Okay, it's cool. I'll call her,” Yahya said.
She pulled out her phone and placed the call on speaker.
“Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice messaging service.”
The recording might as well have punched me in the chest.
“Let me try,” Mega suggested.
His call rang once. Then twice. It almost sounded like somebody picked up and hope immediately sparked inside me. But before anyone could say a word, those two familiar tones sounded and the call disconnected.
Before either of them could say another word or attempt another call, I was already running.
The entire drive home felt eerie, like I wasn't alone.
Every light changed from red to green before I reached it. Every turn was clear. All gas and no brakes. It was almost as if something was clearing a path for me.
Gradually, I eased up on the gas. The last thing I needed was to make a fool of myself flying into the driveway like a maniac.
Juliet was probably fine. More than likely, she rang the bell, nobody answered, and she called herself an Uber home.
Hell, it would probably make more sense for me to bust a U-turn and head toward her house.
Yeah. That's what I'd do.
As I started turning the wheel to make the illegal turn, a blast of cold rushed through my body. The sensation was so intense it forced my eyes to shut and drove my forehead against the steering wheel.
“Fuck.”
For a split second, I thought I’d been shot.
The cold spread through my chest and down my arms, sinking into my bones.
Then I felt it. A presence. Something rising behind me slowly and deliberately, as if someone had been sitting in the back seat the entire ride, waiting for the right moment to make themselves known.
Every hair on my body stood up as the presence leaned forward, closer and closer, until I could almost feel a breath against my ear.
“Hurry home now.”
The voice came as more of a feeling than actual words, but I understood it all the same. Slowly, I leaned back against the seat, and the chill returned instantly. This time, it felt like invisible fingers twisting mine, pulling my hands toward the steering wheel.
“Hurry.”
The voice returned, no longer a suggestion, but a command.
“Fuck!” I groaned.
Leaning forward, I gripped the wheel.
The moment my hands made contact, the pain vanished. Every bit of it. Warmth flooded back into my body so fast it felt unnatural. My chest loosened. My breathing steadied. Hell, it almost felt like I had supernatural strength.
Whatever this was riding in this truck with me, it needed me home.
More importantly, Lucky needed me home.
“I’m coming, baby.”
My foot slammed back onto the gas.
I didn’t even wait for the gates to finish opening.
The truck bounced across my mother’s grass and slid to a stop in front of the house. Everything seemed... normal. The scenery was just as still and quiet as when I left it.
Maybe Lucky was home after all.
Before getting out, I took a deep breath and made my way toward the front door. The plan was simple: go inside, charge my phone, and call Juliet ten million times until she answered.
How dare she have me so scared that my body conjured up pain.
Laughing to myself, I rubbed my hands down my face and almost felt like myself again.
“Please!”
The plea was so loud and so full of terror that my heart stopped.
Juliet.
I sprinted the rest of the way to the front door, punched in the code, and shoved it open. Running down the long hallway toward the main part of the house, I came to a dead stop at the sight waiting for me inside.
Juliet was tied to a chair, her lip split and blood staining the front of her shirt.
Alonse paced in front of her like a man possessed, screaming obscenities while a gun dangled from his hand.
Whatever world he was trapped inside, it had him so locked in that he hadn't realized I'd entered the house.
Juliet did though.
Her eyes found mine instantly. I gave a slight shake of my head, silently begging her not to react. Not yet. Not until I figured out how to get her away from him and get that gun out of his hand.
I'm here now, baby. I got you.
“You should have stayed dead, Simone,” Alonse shouted through a manic rant.
Juliet cried harder.
“I keep telling you, I don't know who Simone is.”
“Liar!”
He lunged forward, screaming inches from her face.
“Alonse!” I called out.
His head snapped toward me and the gun immediately followed.
I raised my hands slightly.
“Easy.”
“Psalm!” Juliet screamed. “He's crazy!”
“Shut up!” He whipped around and yelled at her. Then he lifted his hand like he was about to strike her.
“Aye, nigga, chill!” The scream ripped from my chest.
Everything inside me wanted to kill him right then and there, but he had a gun and my baby was tied to a chair entirely too close to this psycho.
“I got it, Lucky. Everything is going to be okay,” I assured her, keeping my voice calm.
Then I shifted my attention back to him.
“Alonse,” I said carefully. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened.”
Slowly, I began moving closer.
“Don't come any closer!” he yelled, shaking the gun in my direction.
I kept moving.
“You know I got to, Alonse. That's my world you got tied to that chair. I can't let you hurt her.”
My voice remained calm and my eyes never left him.
His eyes appeared as two black tunnels.
“Hurt her?” he repeated.
Spit flew from his mouth.
“Hurt her?”
His breathing became erratic.
“I didn't do shit! It was her! Her and that bum Echo Everette!”
He pointed the gun at Juliet’s abdomen and looked at me almost pleadingly. Fear cooked in my stomach because the truth was, he could shoot her at any second.
“Once again, this bitch Simone got my family turning against me. Y’all gonna lock me away too, Psalm? Huh? Stuff pills down my throat and let a doctor raise me as one of his experiments until I’m eighteen?”
What the fuck? This nigga was nuts.
“Huh, Psalm?” he continued. “Then what? Hmm? Put millions in a bank account and drop me back off into society and expect me to function normally?”
Normal and this nigga had probably never existed in the same sentence.
I cut off his rant.