Page 108 of Heavy Is The Crown

When he looked up, Traci was right there.

Waiting.

Traci sat in the living room, arms folded, knee bouncing slightly, the way it always did when she was holding something in.

The TV was on, but the volume was low.

The moment he shut the door, she cut her eyes at him. She instructed, “Put her in the back. Then sit down.”

Kenyatta clenched his jaw. He hated when she talked to him like that, like he was still that hard-headed nigga she used to cuss out for running the streets. But he didn’t argue.

Not yet.

He walked Kaliyah to his mama’s bedroom, laying her down gently, tucking the blanket around her small shoulders. She stirred but didn’t wake, exhaustion keeping her still.

When he came back out, Traci was already waiting, perched on the edge of the couch, arms still crossed tight.

As soon as he dropped onto the couch across from her, she let it fly.

“You mind tellin’ me why the fuck some man named Bishop was on my porch earlier?”

Kenyatta stiffened slightly, his jaw clenching before he forced himself to relax.

Bishop.

He should’ve known Rico wasn’t playing. Still, he exhaled, rubbing his hand down his beard before answering.

“What he say?”

Traci’s nostrils flared. “Nigga, don’t play with me.”

Kenyatta grimaced slightly, shaking his head. “I ain’t playing, I’m asking.”

Traci leaned back, arms crossing tighter.

“He came talkin’ ‘bout you got unfinished business with Rico.”

Silence.

“You wanna tell me what the mothafucka talkin’ ‘bout? What unfinished business?”

Kenyatta sat there for a long moment, fingers tapping against his knee. He wasn’t surprised. He knew this shit was coming eventually. But showing up at his mama’s house was a bold ass move; a move that meant Rico was done waiting.

Still, he couldn’t let Traci see how much this shit actually bothered him. He didn’t want to alarm her.

He leaned back, his tone calm, but firm. “Ain’t nothing you need to be worried about.”

Traci’s face twisted into something sharp. “Oh, so now I just let random mothafuckas show up at my goddamn house asking about my fuckin’ son and I’m just supposed to ignore it?”

Kenyatta exhaled through his nose. “Man, chill…I’ll handle it.”

Traci shook her head, voice dropping lower. “Nah, see…that’s the problem.” She sat forward, eyes locked on his. “You keep actin’ like you can just handle shit, Yatta. Like you don’t bring this bullshit right back to my front door every time.”

Kenyatta gritted his teeth. “Mama, I got it.”

Traci chuckled, cold. “No, the fuck you don’t.”

Kenyatta’s jaw flexed, but Traci wasn’t done.

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