Page 5 of Nobody Praying for Me

“To the best late-night spot in the city,” I replied, starting up the truck and pulling off. I glanced to the right to see Charisma’s chest cave in before she sat back and folded her arms over her chest. Her left leg bounced as proof of her nervousness. Reaching for the volume button on my steering wheel, I pressed it, turning up the music as we made the drive over to Maddie’s.

“My two favorite customers,” Cashmere said when we entered. Charisma’s gaze clashed with mine when I turned toward her. “Come on ’cause y’all like to sit in the same booth.” She hooked both of our arms and walked us toward the booth in the back I always sat in.

I planned to sit facing the door, but Pretty slid into the seat first. I scratched my eyebrow, unsure how she would feel about me sitting beside her, but she tilted her head to the side and flicked her eyes to the space beside her. Since she’d given me permission, I sat, closing her into the booth.

“Y’all want your usuals?” Cashmere asked. She was so fucking jolly to see us together for some reason.

I nodded, scooting down in the seat so it was a little more comfortable for my long legs. “Yeah, that’s cool for me. What about you?”

Charisma kept quiet and only offered a nod. “Cool. I’ll be right back with your drinks.” She skipped away, leaving me alone with the beauty who smelled like warm caramel.

“You come here often?” I asked, breaking the ice.

“Yeah, I do.” I drummed my fingers on the table while studying her. She looked sad or even worse, a little defeated, and for some reason, it had me ready to go on a murder spree. “What?” she asked when she caught me watching her.

“I want to ask you something, but I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”

We both glanced up as Cashmere returned with our drinks. She placed a lemonade in front of me and a sweet tea in front of Charisma, who busied herself with getting her straw out of the paper wrapper. After a while, I did the same, bringing the straw to my lips and taking a long pull.

“What do you want to ask me?” she finally asked. “Well, first could you tell me your name? I realized I climbed in the car with a total stranger.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “I’m Kalm Alexander Savage, ma’am,” I answered, hoping my playfulness lightened the mood.

“Calm?” she repeated.

I nodded. “Yeah, but with a K and not a C.”

She nodded her head slowly. “That’s unique. Does your name fit you?”

I brushed a hand over my hair and shook my head. “Not really. Most people tell me that me and my brother’s names should be reversed because he’s the calm one, and I can get a little crazy.”

I shrugged because it was the truth, and I didn’t take it to heart whenever people said that. Kaos and I were night and day, and honestly, everybody thought I would be the one to end up in prison. No one ever thought we’d see the day my brother would have to sit down. My hand balled into a fist just because I was thinking about his situation and how fucked up it was. I almost forgot about Charisma as my mind drifted to my brother, but she giggled, bringing me back to the present moment with her.

“And what’s your brother’s name?”

“Kaos,” I shared with her.

“You seem pretty calm to me,” she noted with a toothless grin.

“Shit, that’s ’cause you’re on my good side. Ask any nigga who’s had the pleasure of getting their teeth knocked out with these if they think I’m calm or not.” I lifted my fists for emphasis. Her laugh spilled out of her, catching her off guard and me too. I wanted to make her laugh a little more because only then did it seem like the heaviness around her no longer existed.

“Hmm, I see,” was all she said before, “Your hands are so big. Why do you have so many scars?” She caught me off guard when she took my hands in hers and began to examine them.

“From all the teeth I’ve knocked out in my lifetime.” She raised a brow, waiting for me to elaborate, so I did. “Been fighting all my life, and now I do it professionally.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, and I saw genuine concern swirling in them. “You’re a professional boxer?” I simply nodded because I was too focused on how soft her hands were as her fingers glided over all the scars on my moneymakers. “That’s a dangerous job. You shouldn’t spend your life fighting, sir.”

I released a heavy sigh, letting her continue to play with my hands. “A nigga gotta make sure it’s food on the table one way or another. All I know is fighting so . . .” My voice trailed off because in this life, I really had no other option to be anything else. I also wasn’t sure why I was being so vulnerable with her. “My father first signed me up for boxing when I was ten years old because I kept fucking up all the lil’ niggas who tried bullying my brother in school.”

I was a little sad when she released my hands to rest her chin on the palm of her hand. “So you’re a protector?”

I nodded. “As the oldest sibling, it’s all I know how to be.”

We fell silent as Cashmere came back with our meals. I couldn’t help but notice we had similar tastes when the Maddie’s breakfast special was placed in front of both of us. The only difference was Charisma had grits instead of breakfast potatoes like me. After placing a bottle of ketchup on the table for me, Cashmere left us alone, and all my attention instantly reverted to the pretty woman beside me.

“What was it you wanted to ask me?”

I turned slightly in my seat to look at her, forgetting all about my food. My eyes roamed over her soft features, wishing I could get rid of that darkness in her eyes, even though I shouldn’t have had a desire to get involved in her affairs. “Why were you sleeping in your car?” She stopped fumbling with the utensils after my question landed like an atomic bomb. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, Pretty. It’s no pressure for real, but I am curious. I ain’t gon’ lie.”