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I stepped closer, lowering my voice.

“And before you decide I’m just talking shit, remember what the fuck you’ve been dealing with all night. I’m a ghost, nigga, so I shouldn’t have to explain to a grown man how difficult it is to get away from somebody who can walk through walls, disappear whenever he wants, and show up places you thought you were alone.”

That last part wasn’t exactly true. I couldn’t leave the property whenever the fuck I felt like it, and there were still limits to what I could do once somebody got far enough away from the house… but Yonas didn’t need to know none of that.

All he knew was that I had spent the whole night popping up where he didn’t expect me, fucking with his body, moving shit around him, and making it damn near impossible for him to tell where I was coming from next. As far as he was concerned, there wasn’t anywhere in this house he could hide from me… and I planned to let him keep thinking that.

Both of his hands flew up. “I won’t contact her anymore!”

“Good. Now you ain’t gotta go home tonight, but you got to get the fuck off my property. But when you do get home, get that crooked-ass job situation handled, straighten your life out, and find you a woman who actually wants yo’ ass. Because if I ever have to remind you again, we ain’t doing all this talking again.”

Yonas took off running, barefoot and in his boxers, straight down my driveway.

Lakelyn hurried behind him. “Yonas! What about your clothes?!”

He kept going. “Keep ‘em! Keep all that shit!”

Earlier, when Yonas asked about his things, I told him to leave them. At the time, I had been more interested in getting his ass outta my house than helping him gather luggage. But the longer I stood there, the more that decision started bothering me.

Oh, nah.

We’re not keeping a mothafuckin’ thing.

Yonas reached his car and snatched open the driver’s door, then froze.

Both of his suitcases were sitting in the driver’s seat.

I had sent them there before he made it halfway down the driveway.

He stared at them in horror. “What the fuck?!”

I laughed. “Yeah, nigga. Take all yo’ shit with you. I don’t want a sock, charger, toothbrush, cufflink, cologne sitting on one of my dressers… nothing that can give you an excuse to circle back next week talking about what you forgot.” I folded my arms. “When you leave, everything that came with you leaves too, nigga.”

Yonas looked from the suitcases to the mansion like he couldn’t decide what was worse.

Before he could say anything, the first suitcase popped open. His clothes started coming out one piece at a time. First a blue dress shirt, then a white one, then black, followed by jeans, shoes, and the rest of his shit until half his wardrobe was floating around the car in a slow circle.

I looked at the mess and laughed.

Whole mothafuckin’ fashion show in the driveway.

Willow’s mouth fell open. “Oh, shit!”

Yonas backed away from the car, watching his own wardrobe orbit him like he was afraid one of his shirts might attack next.

I snapped my fingers, and a pair of his expensive loafers landed neatly on the roof of the car while his cologne rolled lazily across the hood. One of the suitcases slammed shut hard enough to make him jump.

“Now take your shit and go, nigga!” I demanded.

“I’m going!”

He hurriedly grabbed one suitcase and tried to throw it onto the passenger seat.

It flew right back out.

“Aaaaah!”

Willow collapsed against Lakelyn. “Bitch, the luggage don’t wanna leave either.”