Page 10 of The Spirit Of My Savage
Istood in the shower with my forehead pressed to the wall. The water beat down on me like it was trying to wash off the argument but it wasn’t just the fight with Rome that had me like this. It was the whole vibe. The way the air felt in the house. The way I kept hearing and feeling shit.
I hadn’t said a word to Rome since earlier. He tried to act like shit was sweet when he finally walked in the house. He lit a blunt and played COD as if he didn’t still smell like some other bitch’s perfume.
I tilted my head under the stream, eyes closed. My brain was loud as hell, but my body was numb. It was like I’d been running on autopilot for too long and just now started to shut down. And then I felt a thick chill that snuck in through the steam like it belonged there. I opened my eyes and turned around slowly.
I didn’t hear the door creak or footsteps but when I wiped the fog off the glass, King was standing right there. He was against the sink in that Essentials hoodie, Amiri jeans, J’s on his feet, and his chains around his neck. His face was low under his fitted hat, but I didn’t need to see all of it to know.
My knees damn near gave out just seeing his build and smelling his YSL cologne. I couldn’t breathe. The glass fogged back up in an instant, but he was still there, just staring back at me. I opened the shower door, water still hitting my back.
“…King?” I whispered.
His head tilted. That slow, confident tilt he always did when I said something obvious. “Yeah, Sky Pie,” he said, voice low and deep, just like I remembered. “I been tryna talk to you, baby. You ready to listen?”
I stepped out, dripping wet. My heart damn near stopped. I didn’t grab a towel. I didn’t flinch. I just stared at him. “You… you’re not real,” I stammered.
He pushed off the sink and stepped forward, slow and smooth. “Yeah?” he said. “Then why your body reactin’ to me right now?”
And it was. My pussy throbbed as goosebumps crawled all over my skin. He stopped a few inches in front of me. I blinked, tears already falling. “You're dead,” I whispered. “I held you…”
“I know what you saw,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “You was holdin’ me when I took my last breath.”
My lip quivered. “I tried to…”
“You couldn’t stop nothin’. That wasn’t on you. But what you do now?” He took another step. “That is.”
I swallowed hard. “Why are you here?”
He smirked, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “You know why the fuck I’m here.” He looked around the luxurious bathroom, then back at me. “This what you traded me for?” he said. “Lyin’ ass mahfucka who ain’t even smart enough to hide his dirt right?”
“Stop.”
He stepped closer. “You layin’ next to the same nigga that lined me up.”
“I said stop!”
“I ain’t stoppin’ shit,” he growled. “You need to hear it. Rome did it. He set me up. And you know that shit in your gut. That’s why you ain’t been sleepin’ right. That’s why I had to come back, baby. You need to know the truth.”
My hands were shaking now. “I wanted to move on, King. I had to.”
He reached out and pulled me in closer by my waist. “You ain’t never moved on,” he said. “You just settled. You just survivin’. That ain’t livin’, Sky.”
“I didn’t have a choice.”
He stared at me so long I felt naked in a whole different way. “I never stopped watchin’ over you,” he finally said. “Even when I couldn’t talk to you. Couldn’t touch you. I stayed close.”
“Why?”
He leaned down and kissed my neck. “You know why.”
“I miss you so much,” I whispered, eyes fluttering.
“I know,” he said. “I miss the fuck outta you too.” He stepped back, hoodie still over his head, face half-shadowed, body fading slightly now like the moment was breaking apart. “You deserve better, baby. I need you to wake the fuck up. You ain’t safe with this nigga. He got blood on his hands.”
And then just like that, King was gone. I dropped to the bathroom floor, knees to my chest, heart in pieces all over again. My heart was heavy with his voice still in my ears, my skin still tingling from the presence he left behind. And it took me straight to the night he proposed. It was my twenty-fifth birthday.
“Oh, my God,” I said, grinning as I walked into the private room of The Lake House. It was a Black-owned lounge King rented out for the night.
There were candles on every table. Red and gold balloons in the corners. My favorite R&B playlist floating in the background. Custom menus. Drinks flowing. Hood elegance all up and through the spot. Friends and family clapped when I stepped in.
