Page 54 of Crash: Love in Scrubs
“Somebody tryin’ to extort me. Got pictures. Talkin’ reckless about my girl and my license and shit. I almost shot his ass this morning, broad daylight.”
“Send me everything. Name, location, known associates, anything you know. And jail ain’t ever the goal, only an option. Secure line still good?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Rex... this dude’s movin’ wild. Said he’d leak shit to blogs, licensing boards, anybody who’d listen. I need the dirt as soon as possible.”
“Oh, she’s special. Never thought I’d see the day.”
I’d heard that same damn tone from too many mouths lately, like me loving somebody was breaking news. Like I wasn’t allowed to have soft spots. Granted, no one had been able to get anywhere near this part of me, but Sametra was different. I was different because of her. I wasn’t just in love, I wasrooted. And Sametra wasn’t a fling. She was home, and I’d empty the clip and bank behind home.
“More than that,” I said, jaw tight. “This my wife he fucking with. He violated.”
“Copy that. Bullshit level?”
“He was outside my crib last night. Watched us sleep through the window like some sick-ass groupie. I’m at the highest level of bullshit there is Rex.”
The line got quiet for a second. Then Rex said, “Proud of you, bro. I’ll have something back in forty-eight hours. Let him make it for now. Be smart.”
“Always.”
“And Lik? If this turns into more than recon…”
“Then I’ll handle it accordingly.”
Click.
I cracked the SIM in half, flushed it, and slid the burner back in the locked drawer. Rex didn’t miss. If Ashe had skeletons—and they always did—he’d dig ‘em up and leave the bones clean.
Fifty thousand wasn’t random. That was specific money for specific problems. I needed to know who he owed, why he owed it, and how desperate he was to get it. Because desperate men with deadlines did reckless shit.
One thing was clear, Ashe’s pissy ass hadn’t just crossed a line. He set fire to it. And I’d burn the whole city down before I let him come for Sametra.
I picked up my regular phone and called Elite Deliveries, the concierge service I’d found that specialized in curating luxurygift experiences for their clients. I’d been using the business since the first time I sent Sametra dinner.
“Mr. Holloway,” Ivy answered on the first ring. “What can we create for you today?”
“I need something delivered to my girl. Like the last time. White roses…lots of them. And that laptop setup we discussed last week. You get that figured out for me?”
“Yes sir, I was able to grab it and a few other things. Should I prepare that?”
“Yeah, include everything I requested. The glasses, too.”
“Excellent choice. Our signature presentation?”
“Always. And include a note: Hey beautiful, I miss you already – Rommy Rome.”
She deserved to come home to beauty, not the ugliness her ex was trying to bring to our door. Maybe I couldn’t tell her about Ashe yet, but I could make sure she knew she was loved, protected, cherished.
An hour later. My phone buzzed with a text from Sametra.
Baby: You gotta stop spoiling me. I’ve got enough flowers to open my own shop.
A knot formed in my stomach. Was I supposed to tell her that her ex was outside my window all night like some deranged stalker? That he had pictures? That he was trying to extort us? Me. Because her paying or helping that nigga wasn’t an option.
I decided I wouldn’t speak on it until I knew exactly what we were dealing with. Sametra had enough on her plate without adding this bullshit. She deserved to hold onto that glow a little longer. But keeping secrets from her felt wrong, especially after she’d trusted me with everything.
Ihad the time of my life last night. Dinner went perfectly, spending the night in positions I’d only read about, and then driving off in the brand new car he gifted me, nothing could wipe the smile off my face. I thought I’d want to push back, give him a hard time about such an extravagant gift, but I was never one to send my blessings away. And Malik had been showing me that he was exactly that…my blessing.
He knew what I needed before I even asked. The truth was that Samaj getting older scared me more than I cared to admit. I thought about my empty nest constantly. Thoughts about what I would do when he left for college? Who would I be when I wasn’t needed as his everything? My fear of being alone was loud and nagging, following me through quiet moments and sleepless nights.
