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“Fuck you.” She shot me the bird before rolling her eyes.
“Maybe one day, ma, but not today.” I chuckled and stepped away from the bed. “Now come on so you can eat.”
I didn't wait around for her to answer. I turned and walked out, leaving the door wide open behind me. She could be mad all she wanted, but I knew her ass would eventually find her way upstairs.
Sure enough, I had barely sat down, said my grace, and started eating before I heard her coming up the steps.
I glanced over as she walked into the kitchen.
“So, you done with yo' temper tantrum?”
“Fuck you.” She rolled her eyes and took a seat at the island.
I laughed and went back to eating while she pulled her plate closer. For the next few minutes, neither one of us said much. I let her eat in peace, but that truck had been on my mind damn near all morning, and I needed to know exactly what she remembered.
“Aye, ma.”
She looked up from her plate. “What?”
“That truck from earlier.”
Her expression changed slightly. “What about it?”
I set my fork down. “When did you first notice that nigga was following you?”
She shrugged. “I don't know. I had already been walking for a little while before I noticed him.”
“Did you see his face?”
“Not really. His windows were tinted.”
“What about the truck? Anything stand out? Stickers, damage, rims, anything?”
She stopped eating and looked at me. “Why are you asking me all these questions?”
“Because somebody following you after everything that happened at that auction ain't no coincidence.”
“You don't know if that had anything to do with the auction.”
“And you don't know that it didn't.” I held her stare. “That's why I'm asking.”
She got quiet and looked down at her plate, thinking.
“It was black,” she finally said. “An SUV. The windows were dark as hell. That's really all I remember.”
I nodded. It wasn't much, but it gave me something to work with.
“Did he ever stop?”
“No. He just kept driving slow beside me.”
I didn't like that shit. A nigga slowing down beside a woman walking alone in the middle of the night wasn't something I was about to brush off.
“So, what? You think that was David?”
“I think it's possible.”
“And that's why you locked me in your little creepy-ass basement room?”
