Page 40 of The Prodigy

“You sound just like your father.”

He meant it as a compliment, but it just made me more uneasy. I didn’twannabe good at any of this shit. I wanted to go back to Atlanta and leave Midling and all its skeletons in my rearview mirror.

“By the way, I, uh, recently got married.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

Mimi came back in just then and delivered our meals. They looked and smelled good as hell.

“I guess my invitation got lost in the mail,” Gray joked.

“There weren’t any. We went to the courthouse. Just wanted to hurry up and make it official.”

“Anyone I know?”

I bit into the cornbread and felt the urge to slap my mama. “Not sure. Malika…”

Fuck. What was her last name?

“…Andrews. You know her people?”

Gray looked away for a second and cleared his throat. “Doesn’t ring a bell. But enjoy it, man. Especially the beginning. The honeymoon stage is a blast.”

I wouldn’t fucking know.

Me and Gray finished up our business by the time dessert—peach cobbler—was served. But other than a nice case of itis, I didn’t feel better when I left. I just felt like the shit I had to do had multiplied by a hundred.

I dialed up Joe on my way home, hoping he had some news on the shooter and the investigation. His ass didn’t answer. Probably laid up with some female. I needed him to work a little harder and a lot faster. If the police weren’t sniffing around me, that meant I could end this fake ass marriage and be done with Malika.

Not that I hated her or anything. She was cool so far, especially given the situation she was in. Cool as fuck, really.

Like that first night at the bar. I didn’t miss how she reminded me to grab my phone—evidence that pointed to me—before we escaped. That’s some real rider shit. I expect that out of girls like Jaz and Kittora, because they were about that life. But Malika wasn’t, and it still came natural to her. A natural rider. I fucked with that heavy.

It didn’t matter, though. Just cuz she was cool didn’t mean I wanted to stay married to her, especially since I couldn’t smash.

The house was quiet when I came home. I went straight to the shower, and when I went into my bedroom wearing my towel, Malika was sitting up in the bed, her eyes on my body.

“What’s up with you?” I asked. Making more small talk. “How your day go?”

She smiled and brought her eyes up to my face. “It was fine. Talked to my nephew. I missed him.”

I went to my dresser to get some lotion. “You called from work?”

“…Yes. Was that wrong?”

“Nah. Actually, you can probably get out there to see him soon.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” I rubbed cherry almond Jergens—my favorite—on my body and caught her staring at me again in the mirror. It excited me.

“You would let me go by myself?” she finally said.

“Maybe.”

Her face fell.

“Look, it’s gonna take me a little time to trust you, that’s all.”

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