As soon as his eyes landed on me, a taunting look crossed his face. “Well, damn,” he said, spreading his arms. “Look who finally decided to bring her ass back to America.” I smiled as he came over and wrapped me up in one of those strong, quick hugs that somehow always felt both affectionate and aggressive. “What’s up?” He pulled back and looked me over. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I nodded too fast. “I’m good.”
“Mm-hmm. I should’ve sent somebody to get you. You so hardheaded.”
“I told y’all I was fine.”
Zahra clicked her tongue. “We could’ve picked you up.”
“I know. But I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”
I smiled, but inside, all I could think about was wanting space, freedom, and air. Them fussing over me should’ve felt good. Part of me knew it was real and safe love. But another part of me felt that old familiar suffocation creeping back in. It made my skin itch. That was exactly why I had refused to let either of them pick me up from the airport. I needed to breathe for a second before walking back into them hovering over me with watchful eyes.
“You hungry?” Zahra asked, already reaching for my bag like I was a guest instead of somebody who had lived under this roof before.
“I’ll order something in a minute,” I said quickly.
“Why?” Saint probed as he took my suitcase from Zahra. “We can have the chef whip something up.”
“I’m missing Chicago food.”
He ignored me, though. “Come on. We got food.”
I stood there for a second watching both of them move around me, happy, loving, excited to have me home, and all I could think was that I needed my own place ASAP.
Thailand had given me more than distance; it had also given me direction. Thailand was full of the vendors that theseinfluencers try to gatekeep. I was right there with them, able to walk into the factories and touch the hair with my own hands. I got connected to the right vendors that had the best raw bundles, wigs, and closures, and very reliable shipping. I had built my online hair business, Royal Strandz, up way faster than I expected, and the money had been stacking. I had even managed to get my hair into the hands of a few hair influencers with big followings, and once they started posting about my brand, my business went viral.
I had more than enough of my own money to get my own place, and that was even more important now that I was pregnant. Because if there was one thing I knew for sure, it was that once Zahra and Reek found out the truth, this house was going to stop feeling warm really quickly. It was going to feel cold and way too small. And I already felt the walls closing in on me.
As I followed Saint and Zahra, holding my tote right in front of my stomach, I prayed I could keep my secret a little longer.
TARIQ “REEK” HORTON
My phone vibrated against the bathroom counter right when I was buttoning my jeans.
Mya:You sliding through later or what?
I smirked to myself and tucked my phone into my pocket just as I heard Sienna moving around in the kitchen. I stepped out of the bathroom with my Glock at my back, my work phone in one hand, and the smell of coffee and bacon hitting me before I even made it to the hallway.
Sienna looked up from the coffee pot when I came around the corner. She was wearing a little silk lingerie set that hugged her body. I always appreciated how beautiful she was. She was the type of woman a nigga wassupposedto settle down with, if he had any sense.
“You’re leaving already?” she asked.
I checked the time on my work phone and saw that I had missed three calls from Big A and one from a runner on 63rd.
“Yeah,” I said. “I got work.”
“You always got work.”
I shrugged and walked over to the island. “That’s because I always got money to make.”
She slid a plate toward me anyway. “Eat first.”
I looked down at the eggs, bacon, and fruit cut up on the side. Sienna was good for thoughtful and intentional shit like this. She paid attention. It would’ve been easy to wife her, if I was the kind of man who wanted that. But I wasn’t.
She wasn’t a bad woman at all. Sienna was smart, sexy, connected, and knew how to play her position without being loud or needy most of the time. She wasn’t embarrassing or broke, and she wasn’t one of those clingy women that made a nigga want to climb out the nearest window.
I still didn’t want the routine, expectations, or a woman waking up every day thinking she was getting closer to some version of me that did not exist.
