Page 15 of The Prettiest Outlaw

Nico looked down at me, sincerity in his pecan-brown eyes. “If he had gotten you in his van, there’s no telling what he would’ve done.”

I wrapped my arms around Nico’s waist and hugged him. “How did you get here so fast?”

“My shop…I own an auto body and custom shop. It’s literally five blocks from here.”

While I still had my face buried in Nico’s mid-section, Langston parked on the curb right in front of us, quickly exiting his truck.

He pulled me off of Nico and into his chest. “Short Cake, what the fuck?”

Tears breached my eyes. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just be careful. Jia wouldn’t be able to fucking breathe if something happened to you.” He pushed me away from him and examined me thoroughly. “You good? You good? That nigga didn’t put his hands on you, did he?”

I shook my head. “No.

“Get in my truck. Jia wants to see you. We’re stopping through our crib before I take you home. Let me holler at Nico for a minute.”

I went to Langston’s truck without protest. Once I was securely in the passenger seat, I called Jianna. I knew she would be in her hormonal bag if I talked to Jia about going on a date with a creep before I talked to her about it.

After spendinga few days in the hospital, my mother had been back home for a week and a half.

“Aye, Ma.” I walked into the kitchen where she was putting something together at the sink. “Aww, you feel good enough to cook?”

It had taken my mom a minute to bounce back from her hospital stay. She’d been exhausted. From the general loudness of the hospital to the nurses and medical assistants poking and prodding her to check her numbers every couple of hours, she hadn’t gotten much rest.

Her back was to me, but I still walked over and kissed her cheek. She was washing lettuce.

“Hey, son. I’m making myself a chicken Caesar salad with a specially prepared dressing that’s supposed to be okay for diabetics.”

“You need any help?”

“Nah. Your brother was by here about an hour ago. He took me to get groceries and stuff. I wish I knew how to get him to at least get some grief counseling.”

“Yeah. I do, too.”

She finished up at the sink. “Come have a seat with me, Nico, baby. I wanna talk to you.”

The two of us made our way to the round dining table that sat in her kitchen nook.

“What’s up?”

She sighed heavily before speaking. “I know neither you or your brother want to talk about such things, but the truth is that I’m not getting any younger.”

“None of us are, Ma.”

Her eyes found mine, and she stared. Her gaze was intense.

“Exactly. While I don’t feel like I’m on my way out of earth’s door or anything, I do know that I won’t be around forever.”

I nodded but remained silent. She had something on her mind, and I wanted her to express it. I felt like the fact that she always kept her emotions inside was one of the reasons she was plagued with all of the health concerns that she had.

“As a girl, I dreamed of getting married, of having a beautiful home that my husband and I would fill with children. Instead, I spent my life chasing behind somebody else’s husband, hoping he would wake up one day and choose me over her?—”

I cut her off. “Ma?—”

She cut me off. “No, Domenico. I need to say this. I’ve carried it around for too long. Now, I’m sorry to dump this on you.” She chuckled softly. “But you are my closest confidant.”

I inhaled deeply then gave her a nod. “Okay. Go ahead.”

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