Page 257 of Kentrell

Cold.

Done.

“Mama… Shayla Thompson,” I finally said low, watching her unravel out the corner of my eye. “Daddy… unknown.”

Her head whipped toward me so fast she could’ve spun it like a globe. I didn’t look at her. Just kept talking.

“Ran away from Mound Bayou… some lil’ all-Black town out in Mississippi. Got on a Greyhound, came up here thinking life was gon’ be sweet. Got strung out instead… bad.”

I felt her breathing pick up, but I stayed steady.

“Racked up debt with Boog. Heavy debt. Only reason she ain’t end up dead in an alley was ‘cause he tossed her ass over to Kenny… told her to pay it off that way.”

I heard the small, choked sound she made… like she wanted to say something but couldn’t get the air.

“And Yam…” I dragged his name slow, letting it settle like smoke in the air. “Yam took a special interest in yo mama?” My jaw twitched as I spoke. “Puddin… he wanted her bad. But she had them stars in her eyes for my daddy… huh. Wouldn’t give Yam the time of day.”

I finally glanced at her.

She was shaking now.

Lips trembling.

Blinking fast, trying to hold back the tears already crowding her eyes.

I kept going.

“Yam ain’t like that shit—did he?” I paused, knowing damn well she wasn’t gonna answer. “Plotted for years on her. Played the long game. Did her dirty… hooked her with a nickel here, a dime there. Came around, got real cozy. Dropped off groceries, slid gifts under the tree like he gave a fuck. All while feeding her habit… just enough to keep her coming back. Till she ain’t give a damn how life went.”

I stopped at the light, glanced at her again.

“Finally got her under his thumb. But by then… she was too far gone. And he ain’t even want her no more. Didn’t want shit to do with her. Just wanted to ruin her. Hurt her. ‘Cause she ain’t never want him.”

The light flipped green. I pulled off, my voice dropping lower.

“That made that nigga bitter. All that money and time… just to still end up a non-factor. But he wanted payback. Just like Boog did.”

I looked over at Star again. Her face was hollow… blank… like she wasn’t even in her own body.

“But she ain’t have shit to give… did she?” I let the question hang before answering it for both of us.

“Nah. But she had something.”

I let the next words fall out slow… cold… final.

“She sold you to him.”

That broke her.

I heard the breath hitch in her throat. The little cry she tried to swallow… but couldn’t.

“Five thousand dollars.” I let the number hang between us. “That’s what you was worth to her. Five bands. A clean slate with Boog and Yam… but still not enough to get Kenny off her neck.”

I pulled over on 69th, killed the engine but left the air running.

She sat there—hands covering her mouth, shaking her head hard like she could erase the truth if she shook long enough. Silent tears ran down her face. Heavy. Nonstop.

“I remember…” she finally whispered, voice so broken I almost didn’t catch it. “She was pregnant… when she got locked up?—”

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