Page 68 of Crown: Phase 4

“Man, I been sitting around for hours…days…thinking about what could’ve happened to you. I keep seeing that car flipped over. Keep thinking about how you could’ve died all because I wouldn’t talk to you and you felt unwelcome. Come on, Ree. I know a nigga don’t deserve it, but let me see you, please.”

Danger’s voice cracked slightly. He had no issue with begging her. He’d plead and dance and sing in the fucking rain if he had to…if that’s what it took.

“I can’t lose you, too.”

The curtain shifted again, but still not enough where he could see Caresha.

“Just let me see you, and I’ll let you be.”

When she still didn’t say anything and the curtain shut fully, Danger nodded slowly, accepting that she wasn’t ready. “Fuck it. I’ll sit here every day, all day. If it takes me coming back to this window every hour just to hear your voice, then that’s what I’ll do.”

He stepped away from the window and headed down the stairs. He climbed into his car and sat there, still not understanding what the hell he was waiting for. Caresha wasn’t budging. He found out quickly that she could be just as stubborn as him when pissed.

It wasn’t until the next day around noon that Danger finally made some kind of progress. He had fallen asleep again, his phone in his hand after spending most of the morning texting and calling her. The vibration against his palm woke him. He lifted his head from the steering wheel, instantly reaching for the gun resting in his lap before realizing where he was. He looked down at his phone.

My Lady: Go home. Stop waiting here. You are scaring my mama. She doesn’t even want to go to work because she’s afraid your ass will come up here and get in.

Ma, if I could, I would go. I don’t mean no disrespect to ya mama. But I can’t leave you. You know I wouldn’t do no foul shit to you. Come on.

My Lady: She’s just worried about me. That’s all.

I’m worried about you, too. Who gon’ take care of you when she goes to work? You need help, Ree.

My lady: I don’t need no damn help. I’m sore. Not paralyzed.

Come on. Please let me see you.

My Lady: Go.

No.

My Lady: Are you serious?

As a heart attack. Told you, I can’t go.

My Lady: Fine. I’ll let you see me. Just go for now until she’s gone. I don’t want her missing work over my bullshit.

You promise you gon’ let me in?

My Lady: Yes, go.

Aight.

Danger stared at the last message for a moment before looking up at the apartment one more time. Feeling hopeful, he finally put his car in reverse and pulled out of the parking space, then the lot. He drove to a nearby Walgreens and parked, waiting. An hour passed without a word from Caresha. He texted her. Called her. Nothing.

Blowing out a frustrated breath, Danger shook his head and pulled out of the parking lot, heading back to her apartment. When he returned, her mother’s car was finally gone. He hopped out and headed up the stairs. He didn’t bother knocking on the front door. He went straight to Caresha’s bedroom window and knocked.

“Ree.”

He didn’t get any kind of response, so he knocked again.

“Baby, come on. Open the curtain.”

Still nothing. Danger kept knocking, pleading with her through the glass until the curtain finally flew open and the window rose.

“Shit, baby.” He said, taking her in.

Even with the scrapes and bruises adorning her face and arms, Caresha was still breathtakingly beautiful to him. As he watched her standing there, her hair curly and wild, a weight lifted from his chest…something that had felt tight since the morning of the shooting.