Page 91 of The Coldest: Stay Dangerous Part 2

But he gave me a year. Surely, I don’t think that means I won’t see him for the actual year. But to be honest… I don’t really know what he meant by that.

No fucking for a year? No being crazy? I’m the lone female rapper of a label imprint–my labelmate is my… boyfriend? Is Cochise still my boyfriend?

“Wyn? You still coming?”

Patience pulls me out of my head, concern growing over her features.

But when I grin, I disarm her completely. Strolling out of the open front door, I gently rub my thumb and index finger down her jaw. “Try to keep up.”

“Keep your hands to yourself,” she playfully scolds, locking up.

A light jog around the neighborhood for Patience Fox is five miles in just under an hour. It’s not the beach, so I keep up easily, but I’m still drenched by the time we make it back to the house. She’s more excited than anything to have a workout partner, rambling about how Auty’s busy schedule and Turkey’s new obsession with calisthenics has left her without a running partner. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I won’t be here as long as she thinks, so I just stay quiet.

I’m sure she’ll see on her own in the next few weeks. A lot of things have changed. Yeah, I’m sober, blah blah… and Auty is hopefully in some therapy or on someone’s medication and all happy in love with her husband and wife and their kids. But there’s no way we could last more than a month under the same roof.

We walk right into the kitchen, where there’s some remnants of breakfast waiting for us. On the whiteboard on the fridge, Auty’s messy handwriting tells us that she’s taking the kids to school and daycare, and Turkey’s in his office. I pick over half a waffle before giving up to go get dressed. I know I have a lot of ground to cover today, but the most important thing is to go to East Kenton.

It’s a mild southern California day, so I throw on a black halter bodysuit and slides. Lifting my arm in the mirror, I smile as I rub ointment on my new tattoos. My mind filters through the past year, filling in the random blanks with feelings that can’t be dubbed by my defective brain.

I’m in love again. It’s so different from the first time. The few times I could stomach examining that year and a half Rico was mine, a teenage love that I thought would feel so volatile was the most stable thing I’d had. He was the one thing I could count on until I couldn’t.

And now, it’s the exact opposite. At any second, it feels like I’ll wake up. Our fingers are barely touching, reaching for each other, the first knuckle trying to curl to gain purchase.

Rico is the most unpredictable person I’ve ever met. He’ll say one thing and do another, speaking with such conviction and vitriol, you’ll just know it’s the truth. And sometimes it is. Other times, it is hurt people trying to hurt.

So exhausting. Or it should be. I should block him, and forget about my time in Belize. Forget about him and that very, very special third leg. Forget the highest highs, the gentle touches, the song my heart sings when I’m snuggled into his chest.

But then I think about how I already gave up drugs and alcohol. Without the crazy ass side effects, might I add. I deserve a little sweet treat in the form of a six-two Afro-Latino man whose special brand of love burns me in the best way.

I skip over to Auty’s bathroom and after raiding her cabinets, manage to wash, condition, and detangle my hair. I definitely need a trim, but when I stretch out a curl, it looks about six inches.

Long enough for two puff balls on the top of my head. I bobby pin the back, then finger curl some pieces and swoop my edges.

My hair’s bright from being sunbleached. The brassy highlights don’t help. But I keep staring, alternating between the freckles and the hair.

Soon, I’ll have a platinum unit on this head. Maybe.

What if I don’t?

“One thing at a time,” I whisper, leaving mirror Wyn to stew while I grab my phone.

There’s only a few people in my favorites. He’s the second name.

I scoff when I’m sent to voicemail, but then a facetime call comes through, and I take a deep breath before answering.

Curious eyes squint and try to look around my background.

“I’ll be there in ten.” *beep*beep*beep*

Damn. No hi, how you doing, or nothing.

Pocketing my phone, I put everything back where it was, then grab my new wallet from the guest room on the way out.

The lime green corvette is pulling up when I lock up Auty’s house. I’m thinking I’m just gonna slide in, but Shad has other plans, parking and hopping out like his car isn’t hella low to the ground.

He looks like he’s about business, stomping over to me. I stop and hold my hands up.

“My nerves are already–”