Page 139 of Are You Going to Love Me

“Yeah that shit ain’t never fuckin’ happening,” Maximus grunted, snatching her up by the wrist. “Let’s go.”

“Maximus! I'm not going.”

He didn’t bother going back and forth with her. He threw her over his shoulder and tossed her on the back seat, hit the child lock, and rounded the trunk.

MB: get the team to clear my house. Change the locks

Keon: WTF happened?

Brody: On the way

MB: Ke keep E in the city. Hit y’all on my way back

Mama was playing her dumb ass games, and they were going to get someone killed.

The ride to rehab was a quiet one. Maximus was in his thoughts, and his mother was dozing in and out of consciousness on the back seat. When he arrived, he carried her in. The midnight receptionist met him, the sorrow in her eyes matching his.

A team of intake nurses wheeled his mother away from him. Before he spoke, Maximus pulled in a deep breath. “Whatever y’all got to do to keep her here for the next three months, do it. The card is on file. I'll keep come up when I can. No visitors unless it’s me. Heard me?”

She nodded. “Yes, Mr. Burton, we will upgrade her to high security. It’ll be a private wing, only you have the code to. No unauthorized party will be permitted to enter.”

“‘Preciate that,” Maximus responded, knocking his knuckles on the counter.

“If I can,” she spoke, grabbing his attention before he could turn around and leave. “This isn’t just a journey for her, but for you too. I’ve gone through this three times with my mother. Each time taught me to let go of the expectations. She may never be what you want her to be. But she can be better. While you pour into her, pour into you too.”

Maximus nodded. “Yeah, I hear you.”

Strolling out into the night, he looked down at his phone.

Eden: Philippians 4:13.

Eden: Let me be the last thing on your list of things to do. I’ll be at my spot until you tell me otherwise. Do what you need to. Even if that is regulating. I love you.

With Eden’s nod of approval, Maximus headed toward Midnight. He didn’t tell Keon or Brody, there was some shit he needed to handle without an audience. He moved with a sense of protection, trusting that faith and the covering he had would lead him through the jungle.

“Look at this rapping ass nigga,” one of the security guards muttered, stopping Maximus at the back door. “You know you got to pay to get in.”

Maximus looked the men up and down and walked in as if he owned the place. Past the dancers’ dressing room, past the stairs where the tricks climbed to pay their debts, and past the entrance to the stage. His feet stomped to the end of the hall. He didn’t give a damn who was behind the door or what she was doing.

He kicked the door in, the knob breaking, wood splintering and the door coming off the hinges in the wake. Mama jolted out of her seat, gun pointed at the door.

“Put that shit down. You ain’t finna shoot shit, neither are them weak ass niggas you got at the door.”

“Hmm,” she scoffed. “You got my money?”

“I don’t have shit for you unless it involves me burning this bitch to the ground.”

Mama lit a cigarette, inhaled, exhaled, and smirked. “You got a little bit of money and a regular hair wash, and you think you somebody. Nigga, I still own you.”

Maximus was disgusted at the sight of her. She was cloaked in her tattered, pungent rags of misery. “You sent your little bitch to sign my mother out. That was slick. Not smart though. What was your end game? Try and shake me up with her at my spot? Get you some money to support your habit.”

Eyes darting down to the tray of drugs, she had perfectly lined up.

“Nigga, if you don’t have my fuckin’ money or a tradeoff, you can get the fuck out or I can have you carried out.”

He clasped his hands in front of his body. “Go ‘head. Have ‘em do it.”

If Mama didn’t know anything, she knew Maximus was fearless. Sure, he felt his emotions more than others, but that was a power he had. Detecting exactly what it was he was sensing and moving accordingly. That came with age and wisdom.

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