Page 33 of Impacted by Love

Brrnng. Brrnng.

The loud ringing of a cell phone halts Asaiah's words, and we each pick up our devices to see which of us is receiving the incoming call.

"Sorry, I gotta take this," Asaiah says before answering the call and placing the device to his ear. "Hello. I'm in the mid—wait, what did you say?"

My face contorts, and worry lines fill my forehead when Asaiah's face flashes with varying degrees of expression.

"Shit! I'm on my way," Asaiah blurts, disconnecting the call. "I hate to end our night, but I have a family emergency and must go." Flagging down a server, he quickly asks for the check once the man arrives at our table.

Asaiah and I are having dinner at Longhorn because I had a craving for their lamb chops, and he wanted their parmesan-crusted spinach dip. It takes no time for Asaiah to settle our bill or for us to box our food, which allows us to walk out of the restaurant within ten minutes.

"Okay. Okay. Uh, I'll take you home, and then?—"

"You don't have to do that. The call sounded urgent. I can go with you so you can get to your destination faster," I interject, cutting Asaiah off.

My stomach clenches tight upon seeing the hesitancy and uncertainty in Asaiah's eyes.

Don't take it personally. Just be what Asaiah needs at this moment.

It currently feels impossible to steady my erratic pulse the longer Asaiah stares, allowing me to see fear, stark, vivid, and glittering in his eyes.

Jesus! What is it?

"Okay," Asaiah says in a low tone before rushing to open my door.

God, whatever it is, please go before us and make everything alright.

* * *

I feel like an extra in theFast & Furioussagas when Asaiah speeds into the Ritown Projects and toward the rental office's direction according to the entrance sign. While I have never been to this housing complex, some kids I went to middle and high school with lived here. Ritown Projects is on the north side of town and has some seedy activities that the city hasn't addressed or corrected.

"Stay here," Asaiah aggressively voices after stopping in the middle of the street upon seeing a couple talking to a young woman.

My breathing becomes erratic, and I sit completely still as my gaze focuses on Asaiah.

"Why the fuck are y'all out here with this stupid shit?" Asaiah's question rattles the windows on the vehicle.

I gasp from the hard vernacular I would have never associated with Asaiah, which causes a shiver of panic to flow through my extremities.

The young woman quickly walks away, and my back slams against the seat when the man stabs a finger into Asaiah's chest.

"I don't give a fuck who you are. Your mothafucking ass ain't the boss of me, little nigga." The man's voice echoes through the vehicle.

"Oh God!" I whisper despite being alone in the vehicle.

My heart is racing, and my gaze is unwavering as I continue watching the exchange, unsure of why the couple's actions toward Asaiah are so unsettling but I’m too invested to divert my gaze.

"Drugs ain't confused your memory that much, but I ain't going back and forth with you. Get your dysfunctional ass in the got damn car, my nigga!" Asaiah snaps with an urbane dialect while pointing toward the SUV.

My brows raise, my mouth drops open, and my lower region moistens while I stare at Asaiah, seeing him in a new light.

Well, damn. I didn't know Asaiah had a little hood in his swagger.

"Come on, honey. We can come back later. Come on," the woman pleads with the man.

"We're his got damn parents, Val. This nigga ain't the boss of either of us. We tell his bitch ass what the fuck to do," the man seethes, causing my brain to short-circuit when I comprehend the information he's said.

Hold up, these are Asaiah's parents. Oh my God!

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