As the door shut, I looked out the window.
Freedom felt strange; it was light but heavy at the same time.
Dr. Loomis’s warning replayed in my head.
You can’t afford any trouble.
I don’t plan on trouble, but trouble always seems to plan for me.
Chapter five
Kynsleigh
Irocked gently in the old chair that squeaked with every sway, humming to my baby in a low, tender voice.
“Close them eyes, my sunshine boy. Mama’s here, don’t you cry. Dream about clouds and angel wings. Sleep real good ‘til morning sings.”
My voice was soft, cracked with tiredness but full of love.
Mysun sighed one of those tiny baby sighs that melted me from the inside out. His eyelids fluttered as he drifted off. His tiny hand stayed clutched to my shirt, refusing to let go.
When his breathing evened out, I stared at him a little longer, whispering almost to myself, “You look just like him.”
I didn’t mean to think about Merge—again—but Von’s voice had been on replay in my head all week.
“Girl, just call the man! You don’t gotta do it alone.”
I wanted to laugh at the thought, but my chest tightened instead.
At first, I brushed it off like I always did. But the more I thought about it, the more I knew he was right. Merge had a right to know. But how?
He was too powerful, too unpredictable, and everybody in New Orleans knew ofthem, and the danger that came with their name. Nobody justwalked upon aBelvior… especially not with a baby on their hip. The Belviors didn’t play fair. So even if they believed me, Lord knows what they’d do.
What if I tell him and he takes my baby?
What if he doesn’t believe me? Will he just kill me for the audacity?
I shuddered. The thought alone was enough to make my stomach twist.
My mind wandered to that night that led me to that damn club, a pregnancy I didn’t plan, and a living situation with Von I never saw coming.
The night I ended up in that club wasn’t just some random, reckless detour; it was pure, raw, soul-snatching heartbreak. Before I walked into that lounge, I sat in my car for twenty minutes, gripping the steering wheel so hard I thought it would snap. My face was still wet from crying and my stomach still sick from what I’d done… more so, what I’d given up.
I had just ghosted the only man I ever loved, and it wasn’t for the usual reasons women dip on niggas. He wasn’t cheating, broke, or even disrespectful. It was my parents. They gave me a choice no daughter should ever hear.
“Leave him or lose everything.”
When they spoke of “everything” they were referring to the entirety of the life in which I was nurtured and shaped.
The inheritance.
The last name.
The access.
The safety net.
The world that cushioned me since birth.
