Once Yusef was knocked out again, I asked Prime what happened. “So? How’d it go?”
“He was more fixated on seeing you than he was Yusef,” he replied with his voice booming with malice.
“Oh, who’s jealous now?” I teased.
“That nigga ain’t shit to be jealous about. What the fuck did you even see in that nigga to have a whole baby with him,” he asked. I could feel the detest in his voice.
“There you go with that judgmental shit again. Did your mama choose the wrong daddy for you? That’s why you so upset about my choices. I’m about sick and tired of you projecting your bullshit on me. You niggas need to heal your mommy issues before you go around terrorizing the world with your anger,” I spat with venom.
He was aggravating and he didn’t know shit about me or my choices. Yusef was born to a teen mom. No one makes the best decisions when they are teens, but they eventually grow out of them. Everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves.
I must’ve struck a nerve because he was quiet and staring at the road with intensity.
“I ain’t tryna terrorize you. That nigga is just… beneath you, Goddess. I can’t imagine a timeline when he’s ever deserved you,” he replied, his jaw softening.
“You really don’t know me.”
“I know enough. I know he spent the entire visit asking about you instead of getting to know his son. I know he called Yusef’s interests ‘soft shit.’ I know he made that boy feel like he wasn’t good enough.” Prime’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.
My jaw clenched. “That sounds like him. And I still have to testify at his parole hearing?” The words tasted bitter.
Prime nodded. “Yeah. Rashid is serious about that.”
“Of course he is.” I crossed my arms, staring out the window.
“Has he ever hurt you?” Prime’s voice was quiet but firm. “Be real with me.”
I wanted to lie. God, I wanted to say yes. Wanted to tell him that Meech had done something terrible, so Prime would make sure he stayed locked up forever. But I couldn’t.
“No,” I admitted. “Not physically.”
“But he hurt you some other way.”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer.
The silence stretched between us, heavy and uncomfortable. I needed to change the subject before he kept digging.
“Is Prime your real name?” I asked.
He glanced at me, clearly recognizing the deflection but allowing it. “Nah. It’s Prentice. My brothers nicknamed me Prime when we were kids.”
“Why?”
A bitter smile crossed his face. “They joked that I was my father’s first son. Because I’m the only one who looked exactly like him. That’s until we discovered another brother who also shares his looks.” He paused. “My mother hates that, that I look like him.”
“Damn. Your mother really is a piece of work.”
“You have no fuckin’ idea. She’s terrible and the bitch runs the city.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“She’s the mayor. Mayor Vivica Banks.”
My jaw dropped. “Wait. Your mother is Mayor Banks?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Oh, shit. Your motherisa bitch.”
