Page 161 of When a Soul Cries

“Give me your address.”

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The entire drive back to Crestmont, my mind tortured me.

What didn’t I know?

Had something happened with the eviction?

Had Halo gotten sick again?

Did somebody hurt her?

What the fuck happened with Aunt Trice?

Every possibility got worse than the one before it.

By the time I turned onto Rome’s street later that morning, my jaw hurt from clenching it.

The GPS told me I had arrived.

I slowed down.

“Goddamn.”

Even pissed off, I couldn’t completely ignore the house in front of me.

Rome lived in what I would call a mini mansion.

The two-story home sat back from the street behind a wide curved driveway, with a three-car garage tucked neatly along one side. Stone and dark brick covered the exterior, broken up by tall black-framed windows. The morning sun reflected against the glass while the covered entrance stretched tall above the front doors. The lawn looked like somebody had measured every damn blade of grass before cutting it. Trimmed shrubs lined the front, and a few small trees framed the property.

Normally, I would’ve sat there for at least thirty seconds.

*Oh, this nigga got money-money.*

This morning?

Fuck his house.

I threw my car into park, snatched my purse, and jumped out.

I barely closed the door before storming up the walkway.

My fist hit the front door three times.

Hard.

The door opened.

Rome stood there in a black T-shirt and gray sweats, his broad shoulders damn near filling the doorway.

Damn this nigga fine as fuck. She aint tell me Rome looked like this. Shit.

I had to snap outta that shit.

I pushed past him.

“Where the fuck is she?”