Page 5 of Captivated By Danger

“Like, seriously, though. You are worried about the wrong thang, girl. We need to be planning your big two-seven. Your birthday is a couple months out, like what we doing? I am trying to be on the beach with my ass out. And not that beach in Key West either.”

I groaned.

“Ugghh, my ass girl. Twenty-seven is a big milestone and you need to celebrate because you been through some shit over the last few years. Twenty-seven is when you grow into your bad bitch body. That’s when your life comes together. It’s the perfect age.”

Inadvertently, I looked at the tattoo on my forearm that reminded me of some of the shit that I’d been through.

“I know, but…”

“Grey, don’t talk to me about your weight right now. So, you gained weight. You still fine. You still a coke bottle shape. Like, maybe if a two-liter coke bottle was snatched, but coke-bottle, nonetheless. Men love a little stomach, so they can grip you good.”

I rolled my eyes slightly while smiling as if she could see me. Elle was the type of friend that never tore you down without lifting you up and it’s why I appreciated her, probably more than I showed. We’d been friends since middle school and we were like two peas in the pod, even though we were on two different sides of the spectrum now. She was loud, outgoing, and very fun while I was quiet and reserved. She really had to push me to have fun. Another reason why I appreciated her.

“I know you rolling those big eyes. What if…”

“Elle.”

“No, hear me out. What if I told you that I’m getting us first-class plane tickets somewhere, would you go?”

“You know if you presented them to me, I wouldn’t turn them down. I mean, you work hard for your money and I wouldn’t make you waste it.”

Elle was a beautician, who had her own shop right outside the city. She also sold some of the best bundles of hair in this corner of Florida. She laid wigs and sew-ins better than anyone I knew. Her clientele was through the roof. She opened her books monthly and they filled up just as quick as she opened them.

“Oh good. Remember you agreed to this.”

When I turned on my street, my grandma’s car was in the yard, along with both my parents’ vehicles, which meant that everyone was home.

“Why you get quiet now?”

“Everyone is home. Maybe I should just keep driving and don’t come home until everyone is gone.”

“Why? Just stand up for yourself, Greysen, damn. You are twenty-six years old. If you can’t stand up for yourself now,whenwill you be able to stand up for yourself?”

“But—”

“Look, I have a client coming in. I have to let you go. Love you.”

“Love you too,” I whispered back before she ended the call.

The moment I turned into the yard; my heart started to race.

“Breathe in, breathe out,” I coached myself.

Killing the engine, I grabbed my bag and stepped out of the car. Working three days a week was barely keeping gas in my car, so it was hard to save money, but I was doing my best. I desperately needed to get my own place. That’s when I’d begin to have real peace.

The wooden door was open so I was hoping that I could sneak in the screen door and creep to my room before they noticed me. On the porch, I slowly pushed the button on the screen door, pulling it open just enough for me to fit through. Just when I thought I was in, my bag got caught in the door, making it slam.

“Damn it.”

“Grey! Is that you? Come in here. Your grams is here,” my mama called out.

Walking down the hall, I poked my head in the door to see my father sitting in his usual spot, with a beer bottle in his hand, eyes glued to the TV.

“Hey Dad,” I spoke. “Are they on your nerves?” I whispered.

He looked at me, nodding his head slowly, with a tight grin on his lips. My grams and my daddy only tolerated each other, and it’s been that way for as long as I can remember. Of course, my grams always thought that Andrea McCree could do better than Bobby McCree, but it was what it was. They loved each other—most times. They were like a lot of couples, the man worked, and the woman stayed home.

Rounding the corner, I found my grams and my mother sitting at the kitchen table.

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