24. Kenyon
24
Kenyon
T he drive felt endless, hours of asphalt and the low hum of tires on the road, my thoughts running in circles the whole way. I pulled up to the apartment building as unremarkable as the inside. My heart wasn’t racing, but my mind was as I planted myself on the worn couch.
I checked my phone, hoping that Zara had crossed the picket line and ended the strike, but it was only a missed call from Mom. Minutes dragged before I heard the jingle of keys in the lock. The door swung open, and she grabbed her son and froze when she saw me. I couldn’t tell if it was fear, guilt, or both, but I sure as hell was about to find out.
“Jesus Keyes!” Tasha sighed, resting her palms on her thighs to catch her breath.
“Are you okay, Mommy?” Christian asked.
“Of course, lil’ man,” I smiled, rising from the couch to grab the grocery bags she’d sat down to unlock the door.
“It’s okay. Go to your room, and I’ll bring your snack.”
“But you never let me eat in my room,” he objected.
“You can today, now go!” She gently nudged him toward the back room. Once he was out of sight, she turned back to me, eyes wide with fear and disbelief.
“I thought we had a deal.”
I wanted to kill because letting her live was a big risk. I planned on it, honestly, but she was just like Sydney. Innocent yet paying the price for someone else’s decisions, and I couldn’t do it.
“What are you talking about?”
“Somebody got questioned about your murder ,” I stated.
“I kept my end of the deal. I wouldn’t risk getting shot again,” Tasha groaned, unloading the groceries from the bag, “My arm hasn’t felt right since.”
“It was either that or the alternative. Otherwise, you'd be dead for real.”
“I haven’t said a word, so you came out here for nothing.”
“Has anybody been asking too many questions? Is anybody pressing to get to know you?” I probed deeper.
“No. Everything is simple and boring as fuck here.”
I could feel Tasha’s frustration with how she slammed each item on the counter. She was alone in a new city with no family or support, but I couldn’t risk taking her word that she’d keep her mouth closed. This was the best I could do.
“The police are asking questions again, so it’s coming from somewhere.”
“If somebody talked, it wasn’t me. I know what would happen to me and my son if I do.”
My voice softened. “Do y’all need anything while I’m here?”
“No, we’re fine.”
“Cool. I gotta hit the road. You still got that number?”
“Yes. Only use it if it’s life or death. I know the rules,” Tasha repeated.
I nodded and headed for the door when Tasha called out. “Hey, Keyes, thank you.”
“Welcome,” I backpedaled and handed Tasha all the cash I had on me, “Do something nice for ‘lil man and lock this door.”
Makori deserved what he got, but Tasha and their child were innocent. I couldn’t leave him an orphan simply because of the sins of his father. I would if I found out Tasha was fuckin’ with me, but her only crime was getting pregnant by Makori in the first place.
When I got home, I was surprised to see my mother’s car in the driveway. I hopped out with urgency because it wasn’t like her to pop up.
“What are you doin’ here? Are you okay?” I asked, shutting the door behind me.
“I’m fine. I had some leftovers I needed to get rid of, so I figured you could use them.”
“You had me worried, woman,” I clenched her shoulder, kissing her forehead.
“I thought I’d meet your lil’ friend who’s been occupying all your time.”
“Kross called you, didn’t he?”
“He didn’t need to. Surely you didn’t ring your father’s phone for nothing,” she replied, unloading the Tupperware.
His phone still rang because she couldn’t bring herself to cancel the line. Mom said her process was her own, and nobody would guilt her into moving faster than she was ready. Not even her two knucklehead sons, so I stopped trying.
“Woman problems. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t have called him. So what has you so stressed?”
“You say that like we never got along.”
“Those days were few and far between. Trust me.”
I hopped on the counter, weighing my options. Mom might’ve been a better choice than Kross. She knew Pop’s better than he knew himself most days.
“I had an argument with my girlfriend.”
Mom kept her head down to hide the grin on her face so I didn’t shut down, but I saw it.
“About what?”
“She has questions I can’t answer.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“Is there a difference?”
“We spent too much on your education for you to ask that question.”
“I know I could tell her, but then what?”
“That’s for you and your girlfriend to decide, but trying to control the outcome by not telling her isn’t working either.”
I loved to hate talking to Mom sometimes. It was easy to do, and she always gave an unbiased opinion, but you paid for it because she never cut corners.
“Nah, it’s not.”
“You miss her, so why won’t you just call?”
“That doesn’t sound like Pop talking,” I stated through a narrowed gaze.
“He was stubborn like you early in our relationship. Not because he didn’t care. Eric wanted to be the best at everything, but he had to learn that doing something was better than being perfect. Showing up is half the battle, Kenyon.”
“I’m hungry. What did you bring?” I asked, changing the subject.
Zara wanted answers I wasn’t ready to give, so showing up seemed like punishing us both.
“Lasagna.”
“My favorite,” I hopped down and wrapped her in my arms. “Thanks, Mama.”
“You’re welcome. Leonne is coming into town, so make sure you’re at dinner. Bring your girlfriend, too.”
A flash of humor spread across my face at her, returning to the topic.