Page 39 of When a Soul Cries

I turned around. “What the fuck is wrong with Blue Magic?”

“I don’t use that.”

“Then what kind you use?”

“You know what kind I use.”

“Sugga, why would I know what kind of hair grease you use?”

“Because you my son!”

“What that got to do with—”

She pointed at the door.

“Get out.”

I walked outside laughing.

That was Sugga.

Crazy as hell.

Rome wasn’t much better.

Neither was I.

But they were mine.

There had been a time when I genuinely thought I’d never have this again. No Mama yelling from the kitchen. No Rome getting on my nerves. No standing in a driveway laughing until my stomach hurt.

Just walls.

A number.

Almost life.

I sat behind the wheel for a moment, and the laughter slowly faded from my face. Freedom hit different when you’d once believed yours was gone forever. Maybe that was why I kept everything else light. Money. Women. Relationships. I never wanted anybody holding enough of me to make me feel trapped again.

Then, out of nowhere, my mind went back to the gas station.

Zari.

That pretty face. That mean-ass attitude. The worry she couldn't hide when she looked at her sick baby.

She hadn’t flirted with me.

Hadn’t asked for my number.

Hell, she hadn’t even wanted my name.

I started the engine and shook my head.

Nah.

She wasn’t about to be shit.

At least that’s what I told myself.