Page 17 of Ms. Mosley

She breathed a sigh of relief seeing me. “And who you said brought you home, again?”

I snickered, knowing she remembered my earlier explanation; she was just trying to see if my story would change. To her, that meant potential danger.

“Someone I ran into that I know. I promise I’m good.” I downplayed.

“Okay, I love you. Call me as soon as you get your phone, Nia.”

“Will do. Love you too.”

After ending the call, I glanced back at Prosper and placed the phone inside his cup holder. “Guess I don’t need this after all.”

“Nah, you still need it.”

“I know my sisters are safe, and I’m going to the phone store first thing in the morning. I don’t need it.”

“Look, it ain’t safe for you to be home alone all night without a phone. You either keep it, or I’ll take you to my place until the phone store opens.”

“Quit threatening me with your place. That’s not happening.”

“And neither is you giving up the phone.” Prosper reached down, grabbed the phone, and placed it back on my thigh. “Shit,”

As he winced, I realized he had accidentally grabbed it with his injured hand. The phone was now smeared with blood. My gaze then drifted to his wrapped hand, and I suddenly remembered I hadn’t asked what caused this.

“What happened?”

He shrugged. “Chasing after you, I stumbled into a table. Shit had broken glass on it.”

“I see,” I replied, my concern growing. “You must’ve cut it pretty badly. It’s soaking through your shirt.”

“It’s all good. And…worth it. I wasn’t about to let shit happen to you.”

Looking into his eyes, I felt a spark of something I couldn’t quite understand. We held each other’s gaze until I broke the tension of whatever the hell was brewing between us and reached out to unwrap and carefully examine his hand. Why? I’m not exactly sure what compelled me to do this.

“Your next stop should be an emergency room. You need to have a doctor look at this ASAP.”

“Nah, I’ma just go home and clean it up myself.”

“You can’t just clean this up yourself. The wound is way too deep.”

“I ain’t got time to be sittin’ up in no hospital. I’m straight.”

“Don’t be ignorant,” I said as I examined the blood loss further. “The bleeding hasn’t stopped. I’m pretty sure you’ll need stitches.”

“Stitches?”

“Yeah. I mean look at it.”

Prosper glanced down, nonchalantly. “Shit… it don’t look that bad to me.”

The look on his face told me that he wouldn’t go to a doctor, no matter what I said. Typical hood nigga; he truly did not give a fuck.

“You’re really not going to go to a hospital no matter what I say, are you?”

“Nah, I ain’t even gon hold you, mama.”

“Okay, Prosper. What if I stitch it? After all you did for me tonight, it’s the least I could do.”

His eyes shot up from his hand to me, and his black ass started grinning like he’d hit the lottery. I instantly regretted my genuine kindness.

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