Page 69 of Are You Going to Love Me

“Acted like nothing I ever did was good enough for you. Mad ‘cause the boyfriends I had were just trying to make a man out of you. So, you wouldn’t be out on the streets like a little bitch.”

“Well, Ma, that’s where I ended up. On the streets.”

“You act like I made you go.”

Maximus snorted in disbelief. “You did make me go. You threw all my shit out on the curb. I slept in a fuckin’ ditch for three days!”

“If you’re going to make me feel like a shit mother, you can let me out right here. When your ass went to prison, I was right there in that courtroom.”

“The one time you fu-” Maximus stopped himself, gritted his teeth, and groaned in a deep aggravation. There was no use in going back and forth with her. The twenty-minute ride was full of her rambling about the life she sacrificed for them, only for Maximus to act like she didn’t exist, and how Augustus did more for her than he’d done.

Since the beginning of his time on earth, this was the game she played for her sick enjoyment. Yet and still, Maximus wanted her to see him for who he was at his core. The inability to accept that chiseled away at the armor of his façade – a little boy who just wanted his mother.

Arriving at Peaceful Meadows Healing Center, Maximus killed his engine and looked over at her. “You ready for the hot shower and clean clothes?”

“Hell yeah. The water has been off for like a week,” she huffed. “I guess since you’re rapping now, you can take care of your momma. Move me into a mansion or something.”

That was out of the question. He didn’t trust her enough to welcome her into his space. Neither did he want her to lead Augustus to the place where he lay his head. He gritted at that thought. Right now, he was supposed to be laid up with Eden letting her breathing lull him to sleep. He pulled in a deep inhale, hoping to still smell the sweetness of her perfume on the lapel of his suit. The only thing he could smell now was the stench of heartbreak.

He climbed out of the truck and rounded the back to the other side to remove her. Escorting her inside, he stopped at the desk. “I called earlier about a room.”

The woman behind the desk looked up at him and his mother, who fidgeted with herself and the plants surrounding the space.

“Maximus, you didn't tell me this place was soooo fancy. All that money you got now.”

He ignored her. “I don’t know what she’s on or how long, but she needs to stay here until she’s fixed."

The receptionist nipped her lip as she mumbled. “That's not really how this works.”

“I understand, but this is my mother. You heard me? I need her okay.”

The woman nodded before hitting a series of keys on her keyboard the prompting someone from the back to come escort his mother back. Maximus watched intently, balanced somewhere between heartbroken and enraged. He couldn’t cross over into his rage. If he did, he’d never come out. His rage was too costly to all the things he had moving for him.

He watched her walk back, still too gone to realize that she wouldn’t be walking out for at least twenty-eight days. Looking back at the receptionist for a moment, he grumbled, “Send the invoice, I'll have it paid in full in the morning.”

He exited, with what felt like a million tons of concrete wrapped around his ankles. Heavy, weighted, breaking, and pending rage. There were only two things that could soothe this. Music and Eden. How could he lay this baggage at Eden’s feet when she had enough of her own? Enough trauma, enough heartache, and pain to last them both. On the flip side, he didn’t have the mental stamina to lock himself in the studio all night and release his feelings over a beat. He definitely couldn’t stay in that house alone. Not tonight. And he couldn’t let this bullshit go unchecked either.

Back in Trae Way, he sped down the street and came to a screeching halt in front of the home with prostitutes, drunks,and addicts spilling out of it. The sight that made his stomach turn. As if the rotting groceries and addicted mother while knowing his betrayer was still roaming freely wasn’t enough to fuck with him, this only added another layer.

Leaving his truck running, he hopped out, peered at the people in the street shouting and mumbling about his erratic driving. He looked at them, his eyes wild. “Shut the fuck up and don’t touch my shit.”

“Ahh fuck, that’s MB,” one of the women slurred. “I seen that nigga light up full blocks in broad day.”

"That nigga crazy I ain't fuckin' with him! That nigga killed Wando for fuckin’ with Pri.” Another woman chimed as his body moved toward the house. “Heard that wasn’t even Wando’s baby. Pri is a hoe.”

“And we ain’t?” the third chimed in. "Shit, I would've gotten my shit together to be with a nigga like that. You see his whip? He had half the hood blocked off today.”

Maximus ignored the group behind him and marched up the steps and across the porch he’d put Augustus through. He didn’t want to cause pandemonium or draw any more attention to himself. He knew, even in his rage, he was on a different plain now. He needed to seek out his brother, straighten some shit out, and move on. In the pit of his stomach, he knew Augustus was going to try him.

They were Cain and Abel. Augustus had proven to him and everyone that he wasn’t his brother’s keeper. But regardless of the war happening between them, what he was allowing to happen to their mother was off the table. Maximus searched the small house until he found Augustus in a back room with a pipe between his crusty, dry lips.

The few half-naked women who were lingering around the room, enjoying their high, drowsily, looked up at him.

“You trying to party, baby?” one asked.

“Don’t fuckin’ put your hands on me.” Maximus’s lip curled in detest.

He was sure the drugs Augustus was smoking and fueling this party with were Mama’s. He toyed with the idea of putting the word out or snuffing him out himself. Both came with a price, and Maximus was tired of paying the price on behalf of his flesh and blood.

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