A frown pulled at my face, and I pointed at Booda. “If you weren’t looking at me, then who were you looking at? It better not have been him.”
“I can look wherever I want and at who I want. These are my muthafuckin’ eyes,” the one with the slick mouth replied.
“Well, these are my muthafuckin’ fists,” I said, lifting my hand between us. “And I’ll introduce them to yo’ muthafuckin’ eyes. Correct them bitches.”
Her friend grabbed her arm. “Alright, that’s enough. We don’t need no problems.”
The one with the slick mouth shrugged her off. “I’m good. That crazy bitch the one with the problem.”
“Koko,” Booda called my name as I pulled my fist back, getting ready to punch that young hoe in the mouth. “Put your hand down. The laws just walked in the door. She’s not worth you going to jail. You proved what you needed to prove. Now sit down.”
I lowered my fist slowly, my jaw clenching so hard I felt my bones pop. The cops were standing near the register, one of them scanning the diner for a seat.
I turned back toward our booth without another word, but not before catching the smirk on that girl’s face. She thought she’d won, but she had no idea what she’d almost lost.
When I slid back into the seat across from Booda, my hands were trembling. He reached across the table and grabbed my wrist, his thumb rubbing slow circles inside of it to soothe me.
“You good?” he asked quietly.
“No. I need to go.” I pushed back from the table. “Being around you is too much.”
I stood and threw enough money down on the table for my coffee, then headed for the exit, never giving Booda a second glance.
That didn’t mean I stopped feeling him.
By the time I made it back to my apartment building, my legs felt as though they weighed as much as concrete. I climbed the stairs slowly, each step a small rebellion against the weight sitting on my chest.
Inside, I locked the door behind me and leaned against it, letting my eyes adjust to the dim interior. The apartment was exactly as I’d left it, sparse, functional, devoid of anything that suggested a life worth living. But that was fine. That was safe.
I moved to the window and opened the blinds, peering down at the street below. My mind wouldn’t stop circling back to the diner. To Booda sitting across from me like he had every right to be there. Like the last few years hadn’t happened.
Still, to be honest, I didn’t know how much longer I could keep running from him. I still loved that man.
That realization hit me harder than any punch I could’ve thrown at the diner, and I slid down the door, my head dropping into my hands. The migraine was still there, pulsing behind my eyes, but it was dull now, almost manageable compared to the other things clawing at my insides.
Booda had hurt me. That was the truth I kept circling back to, the one thing that didn’t change, no matter how many times I replayed the past in my head. He’d done what he had to do, or so he’d claimed when everything fell apart.
But he was back now.
And I could feel myself softening. Could feel those walls that I’d built crumbling like they were made of paper instead of steel.
CHAPTER 8
BAM-BAM-BAM!
The door rattled in its frame, and I shot up so fast my neck cracked. I pressed my palm flat against my chest where my heart thrashed against its cage, and glanced at my phone on the floor beside me.
The time was 4:17 A.M.
The only soul on this earth who knew my address was Mrs. Mary, my ex-boyfriend’s mom. She wouldn’t come here at this hour.
Nobody had a reason to be at my door.
A moment later, while I was still trying to reacclimate to the world, I had the sudden urge to move. I stood, back aching as I cautiously walked through the dark apartment without turning on any lights. It was empty, so I didn’t have to worry about hurting myself.
At the door, I lifted on my tiptoes to look through the peephole. Someone was there, but I couldn’t make out much.Just a silhouette with broad shoulders, and a back wide enough that I could stretch my arms across it.
Could it be?
