Not too close, and not too obvious, but there.
I gripped the wheel tighter.
“Okay, Melissa,” I whispered. “We doin’ this today.”
Instead of headin’ straight home, I made a right where I usually went left. Took the long way, through a couple side streets.
His lights stayed in my rearview.
I turned again, and so did he.
A little spark of anger flared under my skin.
At the next light, instead of goin’ through, I flicked on my blinker and pulled into a small empty lot by a closed-down corner store.
Parked.
Turned the car off.
My heart was poundin’, but my jaw was set.
His truck rolled past slow, then braked.
Reverse lights flashed.
He backed up, pulled into the lot, parked two spaces down.
For a second, we both just sat there.
Then I opened my door and got out.
He got out too, shuttin’ his door behind him, hands in his pockets.
We stood there under a streetlight, in the middle of a damn hood ass parking lot, starin’ at each other like a showdown.
“You good?” he asked first, like he was the normal one.
“No, I’m not good,” I snapped. “Why are you followin’ me, Roman?”
“I wasn’t?—”
“Don’t lie,” I cut him off. “You been on my bumper since I left Charlie Mac house. And April already told me Royce told you to chill. So how long you been doin’ this? Huh? How long you been ridin’ past my people shit, watchin’ where I go?”
He stared at me, jaw tight.
“Answer me,” I demanded.
“A minute,” he said finally. “Since we got back from Saint Lucia.”
I laughed, in disbelief. “Aminute? Nigga, that’s not a minute. That’s damn near months.”
He didn’t deny it.
“Why?” I asked. “Why you feel like you gotta play shadow behind me?”
“I already told you,” he said. “I like knowin’ you straight. I like knowin’ where you at. Who you with.”
“That’s not your job,” I fired back. “I didn’t ask you for that.”
