I wanna tell her they only say that shit on TV and in movies. In the real world, folks were gonna blame her for every bad thing that ballplayer ever did to her.
She scoffs and her eyes veer down. “So what else did your dad tell you?”
“To never let a man back you in a corner,” I mutter, stepping away from her and leaving a foot of space between us. “You ever heard that one?”
Her bottom lip trembles again, and I get it.
I stripped her down to nothing because I still haven’t learned tact. She might as well be standing naked underneath me.
She shakes her head. “I never thought I’d be in a situation where I’d have to think of something like that.”
I take a step forward again, and she tries to take one back. She pushes her body into the passenger door, and gravel crunches underneath her shoe as her foot slides against it.
I stop.
I don’t even have to ask her to know she’s been backed into hundreds of corners before.
“You gonna tell me how to get out?” she mutters.
“I don’t teach self-defense or none of that frilly shit them white folks teach up at the rec center. Maybe that’s where you oughta go.”
All I know is what I taught Arnez last summer when she met Jamari in the parking lot outside of Jazzy’s Bar, but I’m already in enough shit from teaching her that.
“Oh yeah? That same rec center you sent Ky to?” she asks. “What’s next? Are you gonna give me that generic advice you gave him? You’re gonna tell me to ‘walk with my head up’ and send me on my way too?”
“What was I supposed to tell him? He’s a baby—a baby that ain’t mine.”
She tosses her hands up. “Jesus, I don’t know. At least teach him how to throw a damn jab so he can defend himself. You’re a…a freaking boxer or trying to be one.”
I shake my head, snorting. “I ain’t a boxer.”
“Then what are you?”
“I’m just a man—astupid assman.”
A ragged breath shakes her body, and she swipes another wild tear from her cheek, like she knows this is it. This is the beginning and end for us, and it happened right here on Joliet.
“I’m supposed to be at my friend Terrica’s,” she utters. “She has a shop over in the Commons. You can drop me off over there.”
CHAPTER
NINE
LOVIE
“This it?”Rich drawls, pulling into the Commons and pointing to the front door of Terrica’s shop.
I clear my throat, shifting in his passenger seat. “Yeah…”
I try to inhale his smell and the leather from his seats to ease the nauseous feeling in the pit of my stomach from seeing “T’s Braids” plastered above the building’s weathered awning, but it doesn’t work.
He double parks right in front of the shop’s door, and the locks on his truck pop up. Suddenly, I regret not telling him to take me home.
I scoot up, reaching for the door handle, but I can’t pull it because I’m waiting for him to ask me another question like he did back on Joliet. None of his questions are like mine. In fact, they’re borderline offensive, but I can see Aunt Faye waving her hand and hear her saying, “That’s just Rich. That’s how he asks questions.” I don’t think I’veevermet a man who asks questions like Rich.
The truck’s quiet hum fills the silence between us. As soon as I tug the door handle, his voice booms from behind me.
“You forgetting Faye’s money,” he says.
