My sister’s sad eyes dwelled on our mom before she disappeared down the hallway.
“Ishmael.” Khalil called my name with less bass in his voice than minutes ago. “Why are you coming at me sideways? I’ve been around Izzy all her life. She’s like my daughter.”
“But she isn’t your daughter.” I frowned. “You can treat Mariah how she allows you to, but you will treat my sister the way she deserves. This is the only time I’m going to warn you.” I put my gun away and faced Mariah. “I’m taking Izzy to grab a few things for school. I know you didn’t get her anything during spring break.”
She sucked her teeth. “That’s your problem! You spoil her, then get pissed when I can’t keep up.”
“Bullshit. If it were up to you, Isabella would believe she’s only supposed to get her hair done on her birthday, and men are supposed to lay up for free.”
“Whatever, Ishmael. Just have her ass back here before eight. It’s her turn to cook.”
I drove my hands into my pockets to keep from putting them around her neck. Even after all the trauma she had experienced, Mariah continued to be a shitty person. She was selfish, money hungry, and found more worth in the men she fucked versus the kids she birthed. As a kid, I witnessed her do anything for a dollar, including pimping us both out.
“Izzy! It’s time to go!”
The longer I stood in the apartment, the more I risked the chance of having flashbacks that would challenge my self-control.
Right as I thought to rush to her room, the pre-teen resurfaced with her purse in hand, baby hair swirled across her forehead, and her neck draped in gold necklaces she talked me into buying.
“Hold on!” Mariah struggled to her feet while wagging a cancer stick in the air. “When did you get the new necklace?”
The jealousy in her delivery boiled my blood. “Let’s go, Izzy.”
“Did you ride your bike?” my sister quizzed with a smirk.
“Of course not. I couldn’t ride a bike to rescue my princess.”
I wanted to pick my Isabella’s brain the instant we were out of Mariah’s earshot, but I waited until we got in the car and made it a few blocks away before I lowered the music.
“Why are you huffing and puffing?” I wondered aloud.
“Because I know you want to have a talk.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to talk about my feelings, Ishmael.”
“I respect that,” I replied, knowing the feeling all too well. “Can I ask justonething?”
She nodded.
“Has Khalil ever . . .” My top lip trembled before I could continue.
“I know what you’re asking me, Ish. The answer is no. Hell no! Khalil plays crazy, but he knows you will cut off his fingers if he touches me. Plus, you trained me well.” She karate chopped the air.
“Good. Have you eaten breakfast?” I followed up.
“Not yet. I had plans to go to the laundromat before all the drama started.”
My eyes tightened at the corners. “You’re making your life hard. You wash clothes at my house any other time. Today shouldn’t have been different.” I gripped the steering wheel. “This wouldn’t even be a conversation if you came to stay with me.”
“You know I can’t do that. I can’t leave Mommy alone. Khalil isn’t someone to rely on.” She sighed. “Things got crazy today, but they aren’t always bad, especially when she’s sober.”
I hated that I could relate to Izzy’s experience. Vividly, I remembered my auntie offering me a room after I got released from jail, and I declined. The idea of leaving my mom alone felt worse than dealing with her friends, her man, and her pill habit.
The sound of Isabella fishing through my middle console caused me to rip my eyes from the road.
“Get out of there.”
“Why? You didn’t want me to find this?” She raised a taser in the air. “I guess this means you’re taking over the security firm for Shiloh.”
“I haven’t made a decision, but if I take the position, I’m not doing it for Shiloh. I’m doing it for me. You,” I declared. “Honestly, I don’t know how I became involved with the firm. One minute, I’m working as an executive assistant, and the next, he’s printing business cards with my name on them.”
