Page 17 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
My jaw was clenched, it hurt, it was so tight. I was so mad and doing my best to calm down before I lost my shit completely.
“He’s my son too, Sametra.”
“Technicalities that I just don’t give a fuck about. Crawl back to whatever hole you came from and stay there. Who do-,”
“Ma, please.” Samaj’s pained voice said.
Him stopping me felt like a slap against the head. My baby, my everything, was choosing the man who’d abandoned us both. At least that’s what it felt like.
“Afternoon, LT. Maj,” Malik said, walking in not realizing something was off. His tone was calm, joyful but his presence shifted the whole room. Before I could even respond, he looked up and spotted the guest that wasn’t supposed to be here.
“LT, is there a problem?”
He didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t have to. Malik had that kind of presence, cool, commanding. Hell, he was bigger than everyone in the room. And even in a room full of people, his focus never left me. If his words weren’t checking on me, his eyes were. There was a clear undertone that suggested he was reading the situation just fine and not a fan.
I felt covered.
“No problem,” Ashe said, turning to face him. “Just visiting my son. And you?”
Malik didn’t even blink. Didn’t give him the courtesy of a full answer. He looked at me instead, eyes flicking down to how I stood between Ashe and Samaj, tension written all over me. He didn’t miss a damn thing.
“Sametra,” he called out, and my head snapped to him like it was instinct. Our eyes met in a heated stare, “I asked you a question. Is there a problem here?”
The way he said my name. Whew. My spine straightened like he was my commanding officer. That man had me standing tall, feeling like I had backup for the first time in forever. I felt like Griselda Blanco, ready to clear the room. He didn’t ask Ashe shit. He askedme.
“Opp,” Halo mumbled from the corner, crunching chips like this was a drama series and not real life. “Yeah, Sametra, do we got a problem with our little guest?”
I shot her a side-eye that said,girl, shut up, but when I looked back at Malik, he was waiting. One eyebrow raised. Asking for permission to handle it. Letting me know if I said the word, Ashe would be out of here so fast he’d forget why he showed up.
“Samaj’s sperm donor showed up. A day late and a dollar short. Here nonetheless.”
Yeah, I was bitter and so what? I didn’t care what anyone thought about it. Ashe had left, that was the beginning and the end of the story. And I wasn’t complaining, Samaj was my son and I’d do any and everything for him. I’d give my life for him. However, I had to quit school. I had to find odd jobs, sometimes work two just to make sure he had a comfortable life. It was twice as hard doing it myself.
Malik’s gaze didn’t budge. He was locked in. On me. On Ashe. On everything.
“Mr. Lowe showed up unannounced and uninvited,” I said, keeping my voice steady.
“Dr. Holloway,” Malik finally addressed him, sharp but calm. “I’m the one responsible for your son’s recovery. And your name?”
“Ashe Lowe. Samaj’s dad, like she said,” Ashe repeated. Malik ignored him again. And kept his focus exactly where it needed to be.
“That’s funny,” Malik said, stepping all the way into the room now, the walls practically shrinking behind him. “I’ve reviewed every emergency contact, every intake form. Your name’s not on anything.”
Ashe’s jaw tightened. “Probably a clerical error. Either way it’s a family matter. We good.”
Ashe was so damn dumb, it pissed me off.
“Family?” I questioned. Ashe was giving me a headache. He couldn’t read the room at all. And why was he trying to act like he was a present parent? I wanted to laugh in his face, but I was too damn mad to find anything funny.
“Is it?” Malik’s tone stayed measured, but there was steel underneath. “Because what I see is a patient recovering from serious injuries and someone causing visible distress to him and his mother. It’s been a week.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ashe snapped. “I had to travel to get here. I’m here, that should be enough.”
“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to leave. Now.”
“Excuse me?” Ashe tried to puff up and act tough. Malik didn’t even flinch.
Malik’s voice never raised, but somehow it filled the room and tickled my ears. I loved it. “This is a medical facility. My patient’s recovery is my priority. And right now, your presence is detrimental to both my patient and his primary caregiver. I’m going to ask you to leave one more time.”
