Page 67 of Body Language
That was all I needed. I kissed her and my hand slid up her thigh, ready to pull her back under me when her phone started on the ringing nightstand.
She pulled back. “Hold on. This might be Rita or Huxley.”
I sat up, licking my lips, watching her grab it. The second she saw the screen, her whole expression shifted.
“Zejah…” she said out loud, already answering.
The second the line clicked, I could hear screaming, crying, and chaos bleeding through the speaker.
“Zejah, calm down,” Niv said, voice sharp but trembling. “Baby, slow down. Tell me what’s wrong.”
But the girl was talking too fast, hiccupping through sobs. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.
“Breathe,” Niv demanded. “What happened?”
More muffled crying, and I saw Niv’s face pale.
“Fuck.” She pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m on my way!” she shouted into the phone before hanging up.
She jumped out the bed so fast. She was already yanking on her sweats, grabbing her bag.
“I don’t know what’s going on. I have to go see check on my mom.”
I was already on my feet, pulling on my jeans. “Ima take you.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but nothing came out. She just nodded, eyes glossy, and headed for the door.
I followed her out the house, heart pounding for reasons I couldn’t even name. She jumped in the passenger seat,breathing hard. I slid behind the wheel, started the engine, and glanced at her.
Her leg was bouncing, hand gripping the phone like she was waiting for it to ring again. I reached over, resting a hand on her knee.
“Pretty,” I said low, steady. “Whatever it is, we’ll handle it.”
She turned her head, eyes full of fear but still hard as steel. “You don’t even know what you just signed up for.”
I squeezed her knee once. “I don’t have to. I signed up for you.”
17
Niveah
The whole ride felt like my chest was caving in, but I kept my face turned toward the window, jaw locked so tight it hurt.
Zejah had called me a hundred times before. To tell me Ma was yelling. To tell me some random nigga was in the house. To let me know the lights had been cut off again. And every time, her voice was calm, steady. Like a soldier giving a report.
But that night… her voice cracked.
She wasn’t calm. She wasn’t steady. She was sobbing so hard I could barely make out words. I’d never heard her sound so… scared. And it bothered me in a way that I wasn’t ready for.
I pressed my hands against my thigh, forcing the tremble out.Don’t break. Not here. Not now.
It was the call I’d been preparing for my whole damn life.
The one that said my mama finally went too far.
That she overdosed.
That she pissed off the wrong person.
