Page 107 of Heavy Is The Crown

Kenyatta didn’t answer immediately. He just held her gaze, like he was debating how much to say. Finally, he exhaled. “Not tonight.”

She nodded, playing it off like that didn’t affect her. “Is there a reason why?”

Kenyatta smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You must enjoy having me around?”

Krys rolled her eyes, but even that felt like a weak defense. “You wish.”

Kenyatta chuckled under his breath, adjusting Kaliyah’s weight in his arms. “Nah, I just think we both know…last time?” He let the thought hang before shaking his head. “Can’t have too many close calls.”

Krys’ stomach dipped. So that was it.

She challenged him, arms crossing. “Scared?”

Kenyatta scoffed, shifting Kaliyah’s sleepy head against his shoulder. “Nah. Just cautious.”

Krys’ lips parted slightly, the weight of those words pressing against something she wasn’t ready to name.

Cautious.

That meant he knew something was there; that also meant he felt it too.

But instead of pushing, instead of prying, Krys just gave him a slow nod. “Fair enough.”

And that was it. No long goodbye. No lingering moment. Just Kenyatta walking off with Kaliyah in his arms, moving like a man who knew he couldn’t let himself get too comfortable.

Krys sat in that driver’s seat a little longer than she should have; not ready to admit that it bothered her, and it hurt more than it should have.

Suddenly, being in her big home, alone, didn’t bring her the same comfort as it had before.

**********

Kenyatta drove through the dimly lit streets of Trinity, his grip on the wheel tighter than usual.

The city pulsed around him, neon lights flickering, sidewalks still busy with people moving through the night. Laughter spilled from late-night lounges, streetlights glowed against wet pavement, and the faint bass of a car rolling past shook the air. But he wasn’t paying attention to any of it.

His mind was stuck elsewhere.

Every time he blinked, he saw Krys standing in her driveway, arms crossed, eyes holding something unspoken. That shit sat heavy in his spirit.

And it wasn’t because she had pressed him, or because she had said anything to make him stay; but because she hadn’t.

She had just looked at him like she knew something was wrong. For a split second, he had almost told her. Almost let the words slip about Jay-1, about Rico. About how no matter how hard he tried to leave the past where it was, it still had its grip on his neck.

But something stopped him, and now he was just sitting with it.

By the time he pulled up to his mama’s house, Kaliyah was still knocked out cold in the backseat. He sat there for a minute, watching her sleep. Her small fingers curled around the fabric of her dress, her lips slightly parted, her little chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. She looked so damn peaceful.

His stomach twisted with guilt because what if he didn’t figure this shit out in time?

What if the past caught up to him before he could give her the life she deserved? What if he wasn’t fast enough, smart enough, strong enough to keep her safe?

He swallowed hard, shaking the thought off.

Can’t think like that.

Carefully, he unbuckled her seatbelt and lifted her out of the car. She barely stirred, as he lifted her into his arms, her small frame curling into his chest. He carried her inside, shoulders tensing the moment he stepped over the threshold.

Something was off.

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