Page 73 of Tainted

Rajah rolled her eyes, fighting the urge to blow the horn at the car before us. “Don’t remind me.”

“You liked him enough to have his baby. What changed?”

“Being young and never having a real example of love, I chose wrong.” Rajah shrugged. “I thought being needed meant people loved me. It doesn’t, by the way. After a while, I got tired of begging him for basic shit, so I took my son and left.”

“You sound so much like my mom.”

Rajah glanced over, “You’re grinning, so I guess that’s a compliment.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t put up with anybody’s shit either. Even has sharp lips like you,” I giggled, and Rajah joined in.

“She sounds a helluva’ lot better than the one the Devil gave me. It’s hard to know what love looks like when your family refuses to give it to you. So you pick the wrong men because chaos feels normal, and you run from the ones who want to give you what you deserve.”

“What’s his name?” I asked because it seemed like everybody had one who got away. I wondered if I’d look back at my decisions and regret leaving Calvin behind.

A soft gasp escaped as she mumbled, “Leland,” as if he was a secret she guarded safe in her heart, “I wasn’t ready, though, I would’ve ruined him, and it’s enough scarred niggas out here as it is.”

“Well, Leland doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

“I appreciate it, but that man is probably somewhere married with his perfect little wife and family,” Rajah replied.

“Then that just means your forever is still out there somewhere.”

“Life is different for us dancers, Freshie. Nigga’s want the fantasy and all the perks that come with it but don’t want to deal with therealyou. I’m not holding my breath behind none of ‘em, and you better not either,” she warned.

I wondered if Kenyon felt that same. That would explain how hot and cold he was keeping me at arm’s length.

“I’m not,” I replied in a high-pitched voice, making her deliver a look that only a mother could, even if she’s not yours.

“Then why are you looking so damn sad?” Rajah challenged.

“Diamond made a comment earlier about how Makori got into it with me, and now he’s dead. I know it’s not my fault, but-.”

Rajah cut me off before I could finish my thought.

“Look, Jesus died for our sins, but sometimes on earth, someone’s gotta pay for their own. It's just the universe balancing the scales, so don’t sweat it. She’s just trying to get in your head.”

I smiled and nodded, desperately needing those words.

“Good. Now let’s turn up!” Rajah turned the volume up, blasting music and dancing in her seat until we arrived on a packed street.

She could barely drive down it because people were everywhere, and most of the parking was taken. That was no small feat, considering we were at a public park with a huge lot. Rajah drove around twice, but every spot was occupied.

“Damn, are cookouts always like this around here?” I asked, gawking out of the window.

“For the most part. Folks aren’t turning down free food and drinks,” Rajah replied, then hit the horn so hard I jumped. “Get the fuck out of the way!”

The male figure raised his finger and walked to the driver's side. When we realized it was Trindon, Rajah rolled down the window.

“Damn, I’m trying to give you a parking spot, and you tryin’ to put me in the hospital,” he smirked, leaning inside the car and nodding at me.

“I know, Miss. Ernestine told your ass to stay out of the street.”

“She told me a lot of shit I never listened to. D-Rock is finna’ roll. You can have his spot, though.”

“Thanks, Trindon.”

“Anything for my two favorite ladies,” he replied, winking at us.

---