Page 46 of Own It

“What’s up?” I opened the door, scouring the surroundings behind her to be sure this wasn’t some bullshit setup.

“Can I come in?” She fidgeted some before peering up into my eyes.

“Nah. Why you here, LaMia?”

She hesitated for a moment, but upon witnessing how impatient I was becoming, she finally said, “I need your help.”

“Help? With what? I’m not trying to pull fucking teeth. Talk in full sentences, please.” I let the doorknob go and folded my arms, my entire frame fully visible.

“Your brother. He’s um, he’s getting worse with his hand problem.”

I chuckled, but it was humorless. I had to have been fucking dreaming or experiencing a nightmare, whichever fit better.

“Wow.” I shook my head.

“I didn’t know who else to ask, Rah. My daddy loves Ayan too much and won’t hear anything negative about him. You’re really the only man to have ever protected me.”

LaMia’s father, Lester, was a clout chasing ass nigga. He didn’t care who his daughter dated so long as he was famous, rich, or both. When I met him, the nigga didn’t talk with me like most fathers wanted to, to find out my intentions with his daughter and so forth. All he cared about was that I made a lot of money being a well-known boxer.

“And what did that get me? Protecting you.”

“I deserve that.” She nodded. “And I’m sorry. I wish⁠—”

“I don’t wanna hear that. We don’t need to go there. That shit is over with.” I exhaled, pondering. “If I approach my brother about this shit, I may end up killing him or hurting him real fucking badly. He yo’ nigga, so you should know how he is. He tender, especially when it come to me. If I make contact with him on yo’ behalf, he not gon’ take the shit well. I need you to understand that shit before I agree. You cool with that?”

LaMia nibbled on her lip, eyes darting off to the side before she brought them back up to me. I knew she wasn’t cool with it.

“D-do you still love me? Because I still love you. I-I just got caught up in my feelings, Rah. And . . . and I⁠—”

“I don’t. I ain’t trying to be rude or cruel, LaMia. I’m being honest with you.”

I didn’t want her to think I was saying I wasn’t in love with her in order to hurt her or to seek some kind of retribution. That would mean a nigga cared, and I didn’t.

“Damn. Okay.”

“Look, regardless on whether you care if he die by my hands or not, I don’ killed my last person for you. You lucky I didn’t take yo’ life, too, but I wasn’t about to spend another day in that hell on fucking earth for the same bitch that was bouncing on my brother while I was locked up.”

“It was an emotional affair, Rah! I didn’t fuck him until after I told you!” She squawked, probably lying, but I didn’t give a fuck. “He was saying all the right things, and you were gone, and I knew you would⁠—”

“Don’t come back, LaMia. Deal with what the fuck you chose or leave the nigga. Aight?”

She stared up at me teary-eyed before nodding woodenly, then turning around and leaving.

ELEVEN

daylin

THE PARTY . . .

Tonight, Rakim was taking me to a party for his father. He’d bought me a simple dress and some heels that I’d picked out online. He paid for them as a pickup order from Saks and then retrieved them for me.

In effort to bother his ass, I picked a fifteen-hundred-dollar dress and two-thousand-dollar shoes, but he didn’t bat an eyelash after I added it to the cart, simply taking the laptop from me, putting in his card information, then checking out. I didn’t even think he paid attention to the total. So, I took an L on upsetting him in that department.

I heard a knock on the door as I stepped out of the shower, wrapping the warm, plush sheet towel around my body.

“Just a minute!” I shouted even though the door was locked. The bathroom had no windows, and now I knew that was purposeful. I couldn’t escape for shit and therefore no longer wasted brain power trying to come up with ways to get away.

“Your stuff.” Rakim held up the bag from Saks, tied with a pretty satin bow and then the one from Sephora that I would need for makeup.