“Yah guh still love me?” I ask, voice all low and nervous.
He cuts his eyes at me. “Yuh know man head chippy chippy,” he mutters. “So me cya promise nutt’n.”
I almost laugh but I hold it back.
“I was at school… and my ex came by… and… we just… we just slept together.”
The silence is deadly. He doesn’t even blink. My heart races a little, but not from guilt from how damn believable I sound. We pull into the yard. He parks, doesn’t move. Just stares out the windshield like he’s resetting his whole life.
“Yuh ex bulletproof?” he finally says.
I—
“And Zara, me look like the type a nigga yuh ramp wid?” He sounds a bit too serious…
“It’s a prank,” I quickly admit, barely holding back a grin. “I didn’t do anything. I swear. It was for TikTok or whatever. Suzanne did it to Junior and I wanted to see something.”
He turns slowly to look at me. The tension in his jaw doesn’t disappear. “So me must go find one next gyal now?” he asks, dead serious.
I grab my phone and show him the proof. “Look… she did it too.”
He watches the video.
He’s still glaring at me, playfully, but I know better. That look’s got weight behind it. Still, I don’t flinch. I smile, just to see what he’ll do next.
“A everything yuh see yuh wah follow?” he mutters, biting his lip before his hand slides around my throat. Just enough pressure to remind me who’s in control.
I smirk.
Then he spots my cousins coming with the twins and pulls back like nothing happened.
“What a way dem tek long fi carry two babies,” I say loud enough for them to hear. They’re barely reaching the car.
Sash laughs as she opens the door. “Mi think unuh would a come out.”
“We did a go come out, man,” I say, twisting around in my seat.
“Baby dem a problem,” Gavin groans, buckling in. “All gray hair mi bout fi get and mi a only 25.”
Nickoi chuckles beside me.
When we’re ready, Nickoi drives us to Homestead. Our non-stop convos make the journey feel short. I’m surprised when he pulls over in front of my old house.
A wave of nostalgia hits me. I exhale deeply and spot my father on the veranda, surrounded by men his age.
A cookout?
Every man have a plate.
“Mi swear a the bar him deh enuh,” I mutter, stepping out of the car.
“A big thing?” Gavin calls to him as we approach.
He laughs, knocking fists with Nickoi and Gavin before high-fiving Sash.
“No man, nothing too big. A mi bredgrin day and we just a cook and eat,” he explains, laid back.
He looks good, healthy and clean.
