Page 82 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
“You’re definitely overreacting,” he said, brushing his hand down his waves with a dismissive chuckle. He didn’t know any better, didn’t understand he was digging himself deeper.
“Overreacting?” She whirled on him, ready to tear his head off. “My own son and the man I love decided I couldn’t handle the truth about my own life. That I needed to be managed and protected like a child. You call that overreacting?”
“None of this would be happening if it weren’t for me. This is my fault. Just like the accident was my fault. Maybe I should just go,” he said, his voice breaking slightly.
I almost got whiplash turning to look at him. I couldn’t let him take the blame for shit that had nothing to do with him.
I stepped forward, putting myself between him and his mother’s anger. We needed a man-to-man moment. Samaj was tall, but not as tall as me. I was able to look him directly in the eyes.
“We’re not doing that. Stick with your mother, Samaj. I told you that before, and I mean it now. She’s upset, and we gon’ let her have that. But this is not your fault. This is for me to fix and you have my word I will.”
“Aight,” he said quietly as I patted the back of his head.
“What?” Sametra looked between us, her face crumbling with fresh hurt. “What the hell kind of conversation did you two have?”
“The kind where we decided to handle a problem so you wouldn’t have to worry about it,” I said, my own anger finally showing. “The kind where we put your peace of mind above everything else.”
“You think I have peace of mind now? You think finding out like this was better?”
“Honestly? Yeah, I do. Because the alternative was telling you that your baby daddy was stalking us, taking pictures of us in bed, threatening to destroy my career if I didn’t pay him. You think you needed that stress while starting school? You think I wanted you looking over your shoulder. Fuck no.”
“I needed the truth!”
“The truth is ugly, Sametra. The truth is, I would’ve killed him to protect you and taken that shit to my grave, just so you could sleep comfortably in pure bliss at night.”
She stepped back like I’d slapped her. “Killed him?”
“If that’s what it took? Yeah.” I turned to look at Samaj, then back at her. “And honestly, it’s still on the table. Maj, forgive me,” I said, voice tight. “But that nigga? He’s a fucking peon. The gum stuck to the bottom of my shoe. The lint at the bottom of your purse. Scum of the Earth. Not even worthy of breathingthe same air as you. I’m pissed off that he’s still breathing. When it should’ve been handled before it got to this point. But I was worried about what you would think of me. But I don’t give a fuck now.”
I could feel the heat rising in my chest all over again.
“So, you a murderer now?” she asked scoffing.
“He’s got four other kids. A wife. Never said a word. Played in Samaj’s face like that shit was normal. Like y’all were disposable. Fuck that nigga. He better pray somebody gets to him before I do, because my shit is blown all the way up right now.”
The silence that followed was thick. Uncomfortable. Necessary.
I could see it all flicker across her face, the shock, the rage, the weight of what I’d said and what I meant. She was trying to make sense of the violation, of the venom I still had for that man, and the very real violence I was capable of.
And Samaj... he’d heard all of it. I hated that part the most. I never wanted to speak like that in front of him. Never wanted him to hear me talk to his mama like this. But I couldn’t lie. Not about this. Not about that fucking loser. Not when it came to them.
“Get out,” she said again, but quieter this time. “I need you to leave.”
“Ma—” Samaj started. Her phone rang again, and I was getting frustrated. Why wasn’t she answering her damn phone?
“Please.” Her voice broke. “I just need to think.”
I looked at my son, because that’s what he was to me now, and saw my own frustration reflected in his face. We’d tried to protect her and ended up hurting her worse.
“I love you,” I said to Sametra. “That’s never going to change. I fucked up. I know that.”
“Love isn’t supposed to come with a side of lies,” she replied, not looking at me.
“Maybe, but my type of love also doesn’t allow anyone to violate what’s mine and get away with it. The last thing I wanted was for Savior Sametra to show up, go into debt paying that bum when his rightful place is in a pine box. I warned that nigga.”
Her phone went off again. “Answer that damn phone,” I yelled before gripping the bridge of my nose because a side of us that we’d never dealt with was present, the ugly side where we both got protective and stubborn.
“Hello, damn!” she screamed into the phone before putting it on speaker and tossing it on the island.
